A holy Starbucks moment

Let’s start with a story.

I saw a new view of Love’s care in our community a few Wednesdays ago. It was the teamwork of love and I was privileged to feel a part of that healing experience.

I stopped in to get a tea before going to our noon church meeting. As I ordered, I heard a very significant sound and turned to see a young woman falling to the hard concrete floor behind me.  She had come in alone and and had been waiting in line.

The twenty or more people seated on couches nearby remained surprisingly calm. A girl immediately slipped over to the young woman’s side and said, “I will call 911.” I turned around and quietly knelt down beside her. She didn’t appear to be breathing.

With my hand gently on her I quietly assured myself that she was fine and I said to her,”You are o.k. You are safe. You are fine. You are well.” (There was no evidence that that was true, but I was certain that it was.)

I was so grateful that as I had walked in the store, I had been contemplating ideas from the Christian Science Bible Lesson for that week about “Substance.” Working with the idea that real “Substance is that which is eternal and incapable of discord and decay,” as Mary Baker Eddy writes in Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures (p. 468), this assured me that Truth, Life, and Love are the real substance.  That’s really what constitutes man. Then what matter appears to be is not the real. I could feel the inspiration of that idea. Right where the problem was, right there in truth was Life in all its goodness, vitality  and activity. So matter didn’t seem to be a big fearsome thing.

I had been loving these truths though I felt no obligation to make something happen, but to be clearly confident myself about what was true.

As people waited quietly for emergency help, even though there was no response from the lady, there was never anything in that place except the feeling that everything was being taken care of. I continued to kneel by her and recognize the very presence of Life. Since it is spiritual, not in matter, it couldn’t be hurt, injured, or lost.

It seemed a significant period of time passed, maybe even five minutes, and she began to breath, short breaths and then soon deep natural breaths.

A young man appeared over my shoulder and said to me, “Get her to respond.” I moved back and put my hand on him so he could go to her. I had to smile because not only did he have a zillion tattoos but he had a big ring in his nose and a mohawk. I remember thinking, angels come in all sorts of garb. His care was tender and very kind.

As she responded, I assured her that she was well and safe.. She asked that someone call her husband. An individual found her phone and the emergency password, and reached her husband, who came within a few minutes. Three very kind firemen came in, again with no drama or sirens. Soon she began to speak. Her husband assured her and everyone that she was fine.

There were no strangers there. Only folks caring for each other. I’m still blessed, recalling how neighbors did beautiful, synchronized, Love-impelled teamwork.

Time to leave, I thought. Everyone safe. Happy. Strong. Well. A privilege to be a small part of a community whose response to a need for a stranger was love.