Passing-Thought

bread at the duck pond

"Sir, is that a Bible you are reading?"

I turned to answer the mother. "Actually, no, but I do read the Bible." I had only taken a few steps past her when she asked me. A few more steps and I would be on the bridge that crossed a creek leading into a small duck pond at the park next to where I live. I have been regularly strolling through this park on Sundays as I walk through the neighborhood in the afternoons to read. The weather was especially beautiful today. And I figured it was as good time as any to read through the chapter "The Grand Inquisitor" in Dostoevsky's The Brothers Karamazov, seeing that I have no time during the week to do it.

As I had approached her on my way to the bridge, her eyes seemed intent upon me. I smiled, but did not seem to shake her gaze. She had just spoken to her two children and released them to play. The boy was probably about eight and the girl about five. Both went in opposite directions, and as I talked with their mother, she seemed anxious about their whereabouts. Perhaps they had already begun to press the boundaries of her commands.

I smiled. "I take it by your question..."
"Yes, I am a Christian," she answered as I completed the sentence. "I noticed you reading the book, and you appeared to be reading the Bible, so I was curious as to what you were reading."

I told her the book I was reading, but quickly added that my pastor had preached from a passage in James today. For some reason I sensed that would bring some comfort to her, since she seemed to actually want to know what book I was reading. She seemed happy to hear it.

"We didn't make it to church today, because we were feeling sick this morning."
She had inquired more about the book, since I told her that it was very spiritual and had great insight into human nature; it dealt with the struggle between orthodox faith and atheism in pre-communistic Russia. I showed her the name of the book and its author, so she could remember it.

Again, she became nervous about her kids. Her son was next to the pond, but her little girl was playing in the garden area behind her back, which was not easy for her to see. Instinctively, I fixed my eyes on the girl, almost to say, "Don't worry, I have my eye on her."

She told me they like to visit the park on nice days, even though they don't live in the neighborhood like I do. I was close enough to see that she did not have a wedding ring on her finger. By this time I had the sense that we had completed the proper time alloted for a casual conversation with a stranger. So, I stood up and blessed her saying, "Have a blessed day!" And she returned the blessing to me, refreshed. Soon, I had crossed the bridge.

I was happy as I left, but the happiness soon left. I had not even asked of their names. I had this nagging sense that I had in effect told her to "be warm and be fed." I prayed a quick prayer for God to send her a husband, and remembered that about this time last year I was seriously considering taking responsibility for a divorced woman with two children. Some twenty odd years ago, I was one of those kids.

Am I so set now on finding my dream girl, that I will not consider again a woman with children, who is hungry for spiritual guidance and discipline for her children? I can't help but think that the pleasant interaction with the woman only made her hungrier. Like throwing pebbles in the pond next to the ducks who think they are receiving bread. No, that can't be the whole of the truth. I never sensed one ounce of desparation from her or a gravity insisting me to remain. We both enjoyed speaking with another believer and sharing briefly that Bread of Life with whom we shall never again starve. And yet my heart does long to know she will be blessed with a godly husband soon. Could I accept it?