This week, I traveled to UAB hospital to visit a dear friend who had just undergone a significant surgery. On my way north on I-59, I passed an exit where a big red sign proudly announced a Krystal restaurant. We don’t have a Krystal in Guntersville, but I really wish we did.
I stopped.
As I turned into the parking lot it was obvious that the place was super busy. Cars circled the building waiting in the drive thru line. The parking lot was comfortably filled with work trucks and mini vans. I went inside and asked person by person who had ordered and who was waiting. I found myself at the front of the line to order, without a person to take my order.
For 15 minutes I stood there and watched as a crew, that was at least two people short, worked at a fevered pitch to fill orders. Those who know me know that patience has somehow missed my otherwise pleasant personality. On this day, however, I was moved by what I witnessed; four people doing the work of six.
One crew member was slight in stature, had a month old beard that was only sparsely populated with facial hair. He wore a black visor to keep his dark black hair out of his eyes.
As I watched him, I will call him Jimmy though that isn’t his real name, I realized that he was not as fast as the rest of the crew. He filled cups with fries, or slowly counted the little boxes filled with square steaming Krystal burgers, and filled cups with sodas. He smiled all the time, even when other crew members rushed him or rolled their eyes at him in frustration.
He was doing his best.
After about 20 minutes I ordered and took a seat to begin a long wait for my healthy lunch. Each order that came to the counter was hand delivered by Jimmy. With a smile he came to each table and thanked the customer for coming to his restaurant. His single desire was to please people. He will never solve a quadratic equation or factor the trajectory of a rocket, but he made me happy.
He delivered my meal with a smile and asked if he could do anything else for me. I thanked him, and prayed.
Our government claims and the Bible teaches that all men are created equal. In real life I don’t think that is true.
Some kids are born on third base and live their lives feeling like they hit a triple. Some hit the genetic lottery. Some are born with great parents who have done well financially and are raised with love and opportunity. Others have to fight for everything in life. They fight academically, financially, and socially. They fight to find the place where they can win dignity.
Showing dignity is the least act we can perform and the least expensive as well. Sometimes those of us who receive respect so freely often fail to pass it along to others. Perhaps the Jimmys of the world deserve more respect that those born on third.
Jimmy and I are inextricably woven into the same fabric. Because he did his job, I was able to do mine.
We are all interdependent upon each other. We need Jimmy, and Jimmy needs us. We are a team: Jimmy and Aaron. And I am proud to be on his team.
Show dignity.
Aaron Johnson is a contributing writer for Yellowhammer News and the pastor of Christ Redeemer Church in Guntersville.
