Cafeteria Tears

The clock
buzzes and my morning begins. Shower, dress, gather my things and out the door. Walk 100 yards, enter the side door, swipe my ID and grab a tray. Walk to the
little lady at the middle station…

This was
how almost every morning went my senior year of college. There were some days
when the little lady (Betty) at the middle station was not there and I would
get my food from another little lady, but for the most part it was Betty, day
in and day out.

I became
friends with Betty. Each morning I would smile a bright smile and ask her how
she was doing. I never had to tell her what I wanted because it was always the
same. She would start my plate as soon as she saw me come around the corner.

She was
an older woman with grandchildren. She would occasionally tell me about them.
She knew I was a senior and would be graduating in the spring and when the last
few weeks of the spring semester were upon us she started asking when my last
day would be. She would nod her head and smile at me when I would tell her ‘not
for a few more days’. Then the day was upon us.

I walked
into the cafeteria, swiped my card, picked up my tray and walked to the
station. She was not there. I asked the woman who came to serve me and she didn’t
know where Betty was. I waited a few minutes but she did not come. I needed to
eat to make it to class on time so I got my food and went to sit down.

A few
bites in I turned from my table to see Betty walking towards me with tears in
her eyes. I stood and she gave me a huge hug. She said she was sorry that she
did not get to make my plate that morning. She was so sad that she had missed
me. She wished me the best of luck in my future and thanked me for the bright
smiles I gave her each morning. I was in tears at this point and gave her another
hug. I thanked her for being there each morning and that I would be praying for
her. We hugged again and she turned to walk away. I cried through the rest of
my breakfast.

She was
so saddened that she did not get to serve me one last time. When I think about
this now 1 ½ years later I can better see servant hood through what Betty has
taught me.

You see,
it does not matter who we serve or how we serve, it simply matters that we
serve. We should be saddened when we miss an opportunity to serve someone. We
should be at a point where we want to be serving someone every day and when we
miss our opportunity it should bring tears to our eyes.