The summer after my senior year in high school, I got a job as a waitress at a deli. It was a circus theme deli - Ringling Brothers. It wasn't really circusy. I think it was just near the Ringling Brothers corporate headquaters. I was supposed to serve reuben sandwiches and soups while wearing what I thought were way too short shorts. My first day I sploshed matzo ball soup on a patron (dude, the bowls were really heavy and shallow, major design flaw) hit my head on the metal shield over the food, cried and was sent home. After one day. My well-toned legs didn't save me. I was fired. And vowed never to be a waitress again. I figured I was not cut out for serving.
Recently, however, messages of serving that have poppped up in my bible study have resonated with me. This is what I'm doing. "I want a snack". Yes ma'am, I'll be your server today, do you want an apple and peanut butter or a quesadilla. "I have a poop." Yes, right away, let me take that from you ma'am.
Mommas are servers. Nature requires putting them first. Forsaking our own needs - sleep, adult conversation, clean pants - to make sure they are o.k. Despite my shaky start into the service industry, its an honor to be their server today. I still cry sometimes, but noone can fire me.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
2 comments:
Funny how you often parallel my thoughts. Was just reflecting on that very topic after church today. It's a role I never could have fully imagined, but am honored to own.
I remember that rotten, though short-lived, waitressing job. What if you could still get fired for crying? There wouldn't be a mother in the world who kept her job.
Post a Comment