Jesus Shops at Publix (Or He Did Tonight)

"I had a little meltdown," I told him earlier
this afternoon, the young librarian who knew,
at least in measure, why the video was hard
to watch, so hard I lasted only seconds.
I left the presentation to go and have a cry
inside the rest room, then a cry inside
the chapel contemplating Jesus on the cross.
When I told him, now recovered, he was kind
enough to look distressed and gave a gentle
pat, low murmur of compassion as I passed, and he
returned to books, a video that no one else
would guess had so upset a woman only hours
before. And then tonight, who do I run into
while shopping? We shared a few quick words about
the baseball games we'd seen (he coached,
I watched). But just a little later, standing there
ahead of me, he turned to go, turned back,
and gave the slightest wink he could, and smiled,
and said to have a pleasant night, he'd see me
in the morning. And in that moment, no glow
or halo anywhere in sight but rather, in a uniform
of blue, sweet Jesus stood in line at Publix,
understanding all the pain and taking
some of it away, not all. Not all. Not yet.
But some.



(c) Ellen Gillette, 2015