Table 85

It happened on Wednesday.

We had seen him crossing the busy road as we were driving to the restaurant.

Now he was standing in front of us, putting his name on the waiting list.

His hair was unkempt.

His feet didn’t fit into his boots.

His speech was impeded.

He appeared to be homeless.

After putting his name on the waiting list, he sat down.

After putting our name on the waiting list, we sat down.

Without saying a word to each other, Melissa knew what I was thinking, and I knew what she was thinking.

After the man was seated, Melissa was standing.
“I am going to find out his table number,” Melissa stated.

I nodded in agreement.

Table 85.

After being seated, I asked our server if there was a man sitting at table 85.

He looked and nodded affirmingly.

“We would like to pay for his meal,” I said.

“I will let his server know,” our server said as he walked away with a smile and a bit more pep in his step.

When our server returned, he told us that this was the second time one of his customers had done that for someone.

I was surprised and hopeful he had only worked there for a short time.

As I sat there eating, the words of Jesus echoed in my heart: “Whatever you did to the least of these, you did for me.”
I felt a tear making its way down my cheek.

This year has been tough on Melissa and me financially.

Almost everything that could break down or quit working—things that are expensive to fix or replace—has done just that.

Add inflation to the equation, and we’ve felt a limitation like never before in our years of marriage.

Yet, as we sat at our table, Melissa and I knew we were still much better off than the guy at table 85.

When our server brought us our bill, he said, “You have some good karma coming your way.”

I know better than that.

I don’t have karma coming my way.

I do surely have goodness and mercy following me all the days of my life because the Lord is my Shepherd.

As we left the restaurant on Wednesday, we thought that was the end of the story.

However, it happened again on Thursday.

Different restaurant, but same guy.

Same hair.

Same clothes.

Same speech.

Same response.

I told the cashier I wanted to pay his bill.

She then told me that the restaurant has let him dine “on the house” before and that other customers have also paid for his meal.

She also told me that she and some coworkers had brought in some blankets and were going to see if he needed them before he left that day.

That felt good to hear.

I wish we heard more of such goodness because it’s happening all around us.

There are many who have lost hope, but not all hope is lost.

2,000 years ago, God became flesh in the person of Jesus Christ.

The angel told Joseph:
“Mary will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.”

All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet:
“The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel” (which means “God with us”).
—Matthew 1:21–22

God with us.

Jesus was God with skin on, and that brought hope to the world.

The world still needs to know that God is with them.

People need to know there is hope.

The way they discover that hope is through those of us who know the Christ of Christmas.

We are to be Jesus with skin on.

To the hungry.

To the hurting.

To the homeless.

To the hopeless.

To all those like the man sitting at table 85.