By Charles McClure
news@ltview.com
The woman at the end of the service line has multiple sclerosis. That hasn’t kept her from putting in seven hours of work on her feet.

She has helped virtually everyone who has walked in the door today who was unable to help themselves. Her infirmity doesn’t seem to slow her down, despite the twitching and jerking movements she must endure due to her condition.

I couldn’t help but watch her with towering admiration. Here I was, healthy as a horse, thinking how much my feet were starting to bother me. When that thought began to raise its ugly head in my mind, I glanced back at her and suddenly I felt fine. I have nothing to complain about.

Long lines of people made their way into the fellowship hall on this day. Many are senior citizens. Their children are scattered to the four winds. Others are homeless. They are scruffy, unkempt, but exceedingly appreciative of the efforts on their behalf on this day. They smiled with broad grins, regardless of how bad their dental work, or absence thereof may have been. Today they were part of something special, and no one knows it better than they do.

For those who couldn’t drive, we sent our care packages to them in person. A host of volunteers have stood ready with their automobiles, seeking out the shut-ins, the lonely and the infirmed.

One man, in his early 30s, wanted to know if anyone was a member of the local community theater. A woman raised her hand and ventured over to where he is sitting and initiated a conversation.

“So you use to be an actor,” she said, somewhat tentatively.

“I still am an actor,” he pauses. “You know, once an actor, always an actor.”

“What is your background?” she quizzed.

“I was a theatre major a Baylor when I had an automobile accident 13 years ago,” he began, laboring over his words. “I suffered a traumatic brain injury.”

He explained that he was staying at the local nursing home and rehabilitation center for a few weeks to undergo therapy. Occasionally, he would lose track of his thoughts and his voice would trail off. His recovery was always the same.

“I had a traumatic brain injury, and sometimes I forget things…”

It was William Shakespeare who wrote, “Sweet mercy is nobility’s true badge” in “Titus Andronicus.”

On this day, both the young man and his new found friend wore that badge well. She asked him if he would like to see the play she is currently doing at the local theater.

“Oh, I’d love to!” he said with great enthusiasm. “I will write my dad and see if he will send me the money.”

There was no need to write his father. Later in the day, the local actress would go to the nursing home and see if her fellow Thespian could leave for an afternoon at the theater, all expenses paid.

With a green light given, he’s off to see the show with me as his escort next Sunday. I am looking forward to it.

It was pushing noon when an elderly couple came in to work. They relieved a younger couple and then made it clear that the rest of us would have to put our best effort forward to keep pace with them. Never mind that they were just a few years shy of 90. They were still able, and still willing. It was one more reason for me to ignore my feet, which as the day trudged on, seemed to hurt less and less.

A Hispanic family with five children and one on the way arrived, along with a host of compadres. Clearly they were undocumented workers, but on this day, they found themselves in the wide-open arms of welcome, secure in the truth that they were indeed surrounded by friends.

It was Thanksgiving. Our kids are stationed across the globe on this day, so my wife and I decided we would spend our holiday helping others at this community Thanksgiving dinner. We helped serve about 400 people who had nowhere else to go and delivered meals to another 80 shut-ins.

The event only reiterated what we already knew: We may live from paycheck to paycheck, but we are rich indeed, living a standard of life that would be envied by most others throughout the world.

Neither of us could remember a more meaningful Thanksgiving. We even decided that if the kids and grandkids come to visit on a turkey day, we would just bring them down here and put them to work. Our kids would love it, and our grandkids would learn from it.

This is an uncertain world. The economy is troubling. There are two wars and I have two kids in the military who have seen things I could not even begin to imagine. What will see all of us through the trying days ahead are random acts of kindness, unexpected generosity, forgiveness and forbearance. If these four qualities take root, there is nothing our society cannot accomplish.

There would be no trial that we cannot overcome.

This day captured the essence of Thanksgiving. It was one to remember — one for the ages.