As I stepped out of the choir room on October 16, 2011, and turned down the hallway to head toward the elevator, I met my friend, Phil. Each Sunday, Phil and I ride the elevator up to the main floor of the church, where we both walked into the sanctuary, proceeded up the side aisle and through a door to the backstage area, and came out into the choir loft.
On this day, Phil was accompanied by his young grandson. The child first met me about ten months earlier, when I began riding with Phil and his wife, Sharon, to church. During all that time, the child had never spoken to me or shown much interest in me. Unlike most other children, he had not shown much interest in my Seeing Eye dog either.
On this day, things were different. The child said to me as we walked toward the elevator, “Why are you here?” Phil began to shush him; but I thought it was important to engage him. I said, “I’m going to go and worship with you and your grandfather.”
We took a few more steps, and suddenly a light of recognition came on for him. “I remember you!” he exclaimed. “You ride in my car!”
I acknowledged his good memory and reminded him of my name. We rode the elevator and came out into the busy lobby, and he asked if he could hold my hand. Phil seemed concerned about this; but I assured him that I didn’t mind. As we walked through the lobby, I heard a few people praise the child for “helping” me. I said to them, “This is my friend, and we are going to worship together.”
Inside the sanctuary, I encouraged the child to go and sit with Phil while I went to my place in the choir. After church, the child asked if I could please join the family for lunch. We all experienced a powerful bond of friendship on that day!
If the child had been taught to be my helper, he may have experienced great anxiety and been unwilling to go with his grandfather in the sanctuary, perceiving that I was unable to get where I needed to go without him. He also may not have felt that he could invite me to fellowship with him after church.
A friend helps in time of need. A helper, like the good Samaritan, provides for a person’s needs (Lk 10:33-35) but does not stay and continue to be a faithful friend and partner in fellowship. While there are certainly times to emulate the good Samaritan’s behavior, relations with people with disabilities are not always good examples of this timing. Often people with disabilities are in greatest need of faithful friends rather than help in time of crisis.
“Why are you here?” What would you say if a child asked you? How would you respond to the casual comment, “She’s helping,” as you accompanied a person with a disability on their way to worship?”
Thanks so much for this, Sarah. I am struck by two things: Phil’s discomfort at negotiating the child’s curiosity and what is required of you to navigate the sensitivities of your helper here, or your helpers in other situations.
And, yes, I think there are too many good samaritans who enjoy the drama and attention during a crisis (or mission) who would not be useful at all for the long haul.
I look forward to reading more!
–Sara