A Gift from Maggie

A Gift from Maggie
By Roger Lovette

[Dr. Roger Lovette is Pastor of the Baptist Church of the Covenant in Birmingham, Alabama. He is a frequent contributor to Christian Ethics Today.]

She called yesterday. "Reverend," she began, "I have my Christmas list." And what a list it was. It went on and on. A bed. Sheets. Pillow cases. A comforter and some towels. She also mentioned a heater, groceries and money, of course. She was still not through asking. She wanted fruit–special kind of fruit. No apples–but oranges, lots of oranges. She mentioned she needed some pecans. Finishing up she mentioned she needed a pot to cook her greens in. After a while I stopped her. "Whoa," I said. "This is not Wal-Mart. I can`t get you all that stuff. Your list is too long." There was a long silence at the other end of the telephone. "Reverend," she said, "I`m not trying to get out of line and I appreciate all you have done for me, but I do need some things." "I know that," I replied, "but I just can`t get all these things."

She came into my life about five years ago. Just walked up one day after church and said she was hungry. She stuttered so hard that it was difficult to understand her. I would say, "Now start all over again." And she would try–but it was hard. She wanted some "Church`s Fried Chicken." I told her we were making sandwiches for hungry people in our church kitchen and I would get her a sandwich. She, of course, wanted to know what kind of sandwich. I gritted my teeth and told her, "If you`re hungry it really won`t matter."

That was the beginning. About a year later, after she trusted me and the stuttering had almost vanished, she said, "Reverend, could we go out sometimes?" There was a huge smile on her face. "You mean, and get a meal?" "Yes, that`s what I mean. Get a meal." I told her we would go out for Christmas.

And that was the beginning of a friendship between a Pastor and a woman who was almost homeless. That first meal she kept saying, over and over, "Reverend, this is the best restaurant in this town, ain`t it?" And sitting there with the plastic poinsettias on the table and a sagging artificial tree in the window, I nodded in agreement. In many ways it really did seem to be the best restaurant in Birmingham. The food tasted wonderful. Everything glistened. After lunch I gave her a card with some money in it. Everybody needs a little money to buy whatever he or she wishes to buy at Christmastime. I also gave her a fruit basket. My wife had gotten her a sweater, a scarf and some gloves.

That woman gave me more than I gave her. As she sat in that restaurant opening her presents she laughed and laughed. It was the laughter of joy and utter delight. She told me what she would buy with the money. She scratched through the fruit basket and smiled at everything in there. She held up the sweater and there were tears in her eyes. All she said was, "Uhhhhhmmmm … Uhhhhnunnim."

In this five years I have learned a lot about Maggie (not her real name). I have learned a lot about poverty and living on the raw edge. I have learned a lot about how a dysfunctional family can cripple one for life. But I have learned much more than this. Maggie has taught me about the dignity especially of those who have little or nothing. I have learned the hard way there is a pride deep down in us all that should never be violated. She has taught me that even if you are hungry it really does matter what you eat. Even the very poor have opinions and choices and expectations. I have learned the hard way not to be conned and taken advantage of simply because it makes the do-gooder in me feel better. I have learned that one can reach across the awesome barriers of class and race and circumstance and appreciate the gifts of God inherent in each one of us. Probably what I have learned the most is that helping is never easy. That crossing those awful chasms of poverty and pain is anything but easy. One does not return from these experiences without being changed, without grieving for the poor of the world, without wondering how very many there are out there who have no place to lay their heads and no one to affirm or love them.

Soon I will put money in a Christmas card as usual. I will obey her orders when it comes to what goes in the fruit basket. I will purchase a small fruit cake–which is her favorite. I will twist my wife`s arm and she will get Maggie a present or two. And Maggie and I will meet at the entrance of the church at the appointed hour. She has never been late yet nor failed to show. She will be dressed in her finery. And we will go out to eat our Christmas dinner. I don`t know about Maggie. But I do know about me. Wherever we go it really will be the finest restaurant in Birmingham. Some time after the meal is over the presents will be unwrapped. We will go our separate ways. She to the streets and me back to the safety of the church. As the traffic blares in downtown Birmingham and cars dash by, the strangest thing will happen. It surprises me year after year. I am always caught off guard. Over the noise of people and cars, I think I hear an, angel sing. And Christmas will have come once more to me. Maggie, you see, gives me a Christmas present and she probably doesn`t even know it. On the other hand, maybe she does. Maybe she does.

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