My month of ministry in Draganesti-Olt, Romania has been majorly focused on ONE aspect: Relationships. Get to know people. Find out about their lives. Invest in what matters to them. Let them feel important and cherished. Every time I step out in attempt to do this, I find myself all the more blessed by those that I encounter.
The drunk gentleman in the park who still had enough genteelness to kiss my hand in greeting.
The unemployed geography teacher who lights up with excitement each time we talk about the world.
The hard-working squad mate who grins appreciatively upon delivery of a bag of Peach-O's.
The village-woman who lays a jacket around my shoulders during a chilly night of evangelism.
The little boy who points to my grocery bag each time I walk by him, hopeful that I will -once again- produce a chocolate bar for him.
People are incredible. They are so worth time and effort. Every single person matters!
The "blog" below has nothing to do with The World Race, Romania or even ministry. But it depicts my first, real encounter with recognizing the internal value in making external investments in others. I wrote it a little over a year ago, while visiting my VBFF in NYC, and yesterday as I told my teammate, Elizabeth, about this encounter, I realized how much it taught me. How God was definitely using it to prepare me for a year of such. And how I truly hope that life, beyond The World Race, outside of ministry, looks just like this!
Enjoy!
March 2012
What started out as a rainy walk from Times Square to the park’s outer edge has turned into a gorgeous, sun-shiny day, leaving me free to enjoy an afternoon of people, dog and bird watching from a million different rocks, benches, nooks and crannies of my favorite NYC location. I am totally in love with this place. Kudos to whomever was the 1800’s genius who thought up the concept (as much as I love to be here, you’d think I’d do a little research on the history). Something about nature, the laid-back, smiling, happy attitudes, vibrant colors, and the meshing of good parts of so many different lives smack in the middle of a city bustling with life, business, and productivity represents life as I think it should be. 🙂 That whole “stop and smell the roses” (or in today’s case, the begonias…) idea is wholeheartedly worth the hourly, daily,weekly, annual break we should each allow ourselves.
The highlight of my day, although my hot dog and spicy mustard was fantastic, was a five-minute conversation with a man (presumably) named Willie G. As I rested and waited out the rain in front of The Dairy (now a gift shop and visitor’s center for Central Park) a skinny black man approached, extended a brightly colored piece of paper and asked if I’d like to buy one of his poems. I’ve become quite adept at dismissing this sort; as my Sunday School teacher once said, “a fella could empty his bank account pretty quickly giving a dollar to everyone who begged for one.” In NYC, it wouldn’t take more than a block or two’s meander. Alas, something about Willie made me ask, “Whaddya got?” He sat down beside me and began to tell me his story…
My name’s Willie G. I’m a poet. I used to be homeless, but now I got a room in Brooklyn. $160 a month.
Not bad, Willie. My name’s Ashlee.
How you doin’ Miss Ashlee? Where you from, Brooklyn?
Nah, I’m from Kentucky.
Really? I used to work in Kentucky… Fried Chicken.
Side note: (Is KFC really all we are known for?)
KFC is some pretty good stuff, eh?
Yeah, it is. Guess what, yesterday I had on my white hoodie and my Kentucky Wildcats cap.
Oh yeah? They’re going to be playing again Saturday.
Yup, playing against Louisville.
Who’re you pulling for?
I’m a Kentucky fan.
I knew I liked you, Willie.
Haha. Thanks. You know what, no matter who wins, your state definitely has something to be proud of. Either way, someone is going to the big game.
That’s true. So how much will one of your poetry books cost me?
I’m really just trying to get something to eat. Sometimes I get five dollars, sometimes $10. Just depends. How long are you in town for?
A few weeks.
Cool. You’ll have to come back here. This is my spot.
Oh yeah? You’re always here?
Well, I’m all over. Sometimes at Penn Station. I got kicked out of Grand Central, even though I told them I’m just an old man selling poems. What do you do?
I’m looking to get into some Mission work.
Like the people from… Utah? (I had to laugh.)
No, no, I’m Baptist. I’d just like to travel around and help people.
That’s good. People always need that. I met some of the Utah folks; they’re good people.
Yep. We’ve all got a right to believe how we choose. I just think Christianity is best.
Me too, me too.
The rest of the conversation left me with a few less dollars and a couple new poems, but more importantly, Willie G reminded me how important it is to give every person their due opportunity in your life. I’m reminded all the time that one of the first things I ever noticed about my best friend was that she made conscious effort to speak to or make conversation with anyone helping her (cashiers, wait staff, etc.) I’ve often tried to model this, but like a lot of habits, I sometimes let it get away from me. Remembering to value every existing and potential relationship leads to a lot more “Willie G” moments. And I certainly could use as many more of those as God will allow. I’ll close with one of the poems Willie G gave me, and if he’s still hanging at Central Park, I hope he found a hot dog as good as mine!
Be Blessed,
Ashlee
Think
Think before you speak your mind or let your temper loose.
Think before dismissing duty with a weak excuse.
Think before you let a true relationship go under.
Think before you risk a job or make a senseless blunder.
Think before you give your word, then let another down.
Think before you turn a stable moment upside down.
Think before you treat your body’s health with disrespect.
Think before you let your future fall into neglect.
Think before you hurt someone, ignore another’s feelings.
Think how simply selfishness can motivate your dealings.
Think before your self-respect subsides and keeps on shrinking.
Think before you get into a habit of not thinking.
With love from Willie G, The Poet of New York City
