Pop

 (I in no way own this picture I found it on the internet)

That moment when you realize that your life is a novel. Everyone imagines their life to be a novel full of happy endings and joyous journeys. But that is not case for everyone for some people it is a continuum of drudgery. It’s a type of Dickens story that has no happy ending; like the story of little Nell in the Old Curiosity Shop where she dies still a child from deprivation, lack of care. Well I met a real life “little Nell” his name was ‘Pop’.   Pop was a regular at the Soup Kitchen. He would wait on the long line with other poor souls. Most of the people who frequented this church’s soup kitchen were drug addicts, alcoholics, convicts and so on, and quite frankly were very rough characters. There were about a handful that were ‘just down on their luck’, and one of those people was Pop.

Pop was loved about the soup kitchen. He was polite, respectful, and didn’t believe in having a free meal. After every meal he insisted, “on paying” for his meal. Pop would give a hearty laugh to signify mealtime was over and it was time to work. He would start by cleaning up everyone’s dirty dishes, taking out the garbage and walking each of the ladies to their cars. “After all,” Pop would say, “Ladies should never walk a lone someone has to protect you”. Pop did this every weekend for years. Pop was a comfort especially when some of the more ‘bostierous’ patrons would start throwing forks and knives at the servers when they did not like that day’s meal plan. Pop would be there to break up the fights. Not one of the rebel rouser dared argue when 70-year-old Pop with stern eyes would limp over to end the raucous. I began to look for Pop every weekend. He lit up the otherwise sad church hall; he beguiled people with stories and his helpful and cheerful outlook on life.

After years of seeing Pop at the soup kitchen he began to come a little less, until we stopped seeing Pop all together. We all hoped Pop found a home somewhere; alas that was not the case. One night after finishing up a shift I saw the Minister of the Church and he was just informed that Pop had died. He passed quietly in his sleep on a park bench. He had a simple funeral. The only person in attendance was a homeless child, whom Pop befriended. The little girl placed some lilies by his graveside. This would be the only adornment at Pops grave. Tears welled up in my eyes as the Minister imparted this information. I never knew until that moment what became of Pop and had no way of finding out prior. I knew instantly which child was at the paupers’ grave. Pop spoke with the child a few months before we stopped seeing him. He comforted her when she was crying because she was afraid of going hungry. His words now resonated in my ears  

       “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? 26 Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 27 Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life? 28 “And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. 29 Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. 30 If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow, is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? 31 So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ 32 For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. 33 But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 34 Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” ~Gospel according to Matthew

I have heard that passage many times before, but it was not until now that I truly heard it. Pop put his trust in God and though he had nothing, he did his best to stay cheerful and trust and know that he would be taken care of. This was the message he tried to share with that little girl. Like little Nell, Pop will never know how much people truly cared about him. However we can all learn from Pop, his determination, his optimism, and his faith.

Until next time when we pick up with more literary talk, I remain respectfully,

Cheyenne E. Mitchell