Back in my school days, Dr. Adams asked us one day what was the most important things a pastor needed to be able to do. Lots of answers on that one. Know the Bible, inspire, lead, be an organizer and so on. All of these things were important in their own right, he told us, but to be an effective pastor one had to be able to listen to a person without hearing what they say. His point was that actions speak louder than words. Body language as well as actions, reactions and auditory signals can tell you much more about a person than what that person has to say. One of his favorite things was to tell us to watch their eyes. Eyes can be more expressive than any part of the body. Dr. Adams basically taught us the basics of reading body language. Since that time, and it has been a loooonngg time since that time, I have watched people as well as listening to them. I find it fascinating.

          I really enjoy going to a restaurant. Partly because there I can eat things Marsha won’t make for me at home, like fried foods. But mostly I enjoy watching people. Labor Day was such a day.

          We had gone for a long drive to a town we had never been to before. We stopped to eat at a restaurant. We were shown to our table and we both began to scan the place. Marsha was looking at pictures and décor, I was looking at people. The first couple that caught my eye was a male and female, 19 or 20 years old. The girl was cute as a button (I find, now that I get to order from the Senior menu, that young women are usually cute as a button. Not sexy, not ‘hot,’ and certainly not homely. When they are as old as my mythical granddaughter would be, they are cute as a button.) The boy was a different case. Ball cap kept on during his meal and worn backward. Barely communicating with the girl even though she was looking at him with adoring, love filled eyes. When he stood up my assumption was proved correct; his pants were worn just barely hanging on. (How do they do that without their pants falling off? Do they have some kind of piercing in their hips that the pants hang on?) The girl was well dressed and sharp, the boy was sloppy and responded to her, when he responded, with grunts. I knew, after watching them casually for a few seconds, that she was going to pay the bill. Sure enough, when the waitress dropped off the bill the girl picked it up, looked at it and made a bit of a face, but said nothing. When the boy finally finished eating, she asked him if he could pick up the tip. He glared at her until she dropped her eyes, then he pulled out his wallet. When he stepped between the girl and the table, I knew he was going to stiff the waitress. And he did, pretending to pull money out of his wallet and slip it under the plate. Then he walked out ahead of her with that rapper/gangsta walk that seems so popular now. She followed him out, head down, ashamed she had to ask this incredible guy for some help. The waitress came over to bus the table, saw there was no tip, shrugged her should and worked on.

          I mentioned this to Marsha. My wife is an interesting character. We had already met our waitress, who happened to be the same waitress for the young woman and rapper/gangsta boy. Marsha had engaged her in conversation. As far as Marsha was concerned, she was our waitress now and she didn’t appreciate anyone stiffing our waitress, especially a rapper/gangsta boy and his love-struck date. Now she was doing a slow burn. Which was why I had told her. It is fun to see her getting angry. There was a time, years ago, when it worried me she started getting angry, but now it is enjoyable because you never know where it is going to go.

          Our waitress also had the table next to us on the other side. A mom, a dad, a mouthy 13-year-old daughter and a grandmother. They were demanding and condescending to the waitress. Just rude. The position of their table kept me from really seeing them, but they were quite loud. Marsha had the better view. (Now I know some of you are disturbed that the Pastor and his wife were watching people in a restaurant, but to me we were doing just what we were being invited to do. When you choose to adopt the rapper/gangsta look and actions and when you sit in a restaurant and insist on talking loud and being rude, you obviously want people to watch you. Otherwise, you would act and dress in a decent manner. If you are going to provide the floor show, you must expect the audience to watch. And you watch, too) When the family got up to go, Marsha saw them leave our waitress a $2.00 tip. Now the slow burn started to heat up. But then Marsha seemed to calm (which is worrisome) and she looked across the table at me. “I know what you’re thinking. You are not leaving the tip. It’s not up to you to make it up to our waitress. I will leave the tip.” All of our married life, the tip has been an issue. I worked as a bus boy at an exclusive restaurant when I was in college. I remember how the waitresses depended on those tips and I remember how hurt they could be with a little tip or nothing at all. They needed the money, but a tiny tip, or nothing, told the waitress that her service was unacceptable. Therefore, do tend to leave more than most. Marsha, on the other hand, wants the waitress to receive something, but she doesn’t want to take from the rent money to do it. When she said she would leave the tip, I just nodded my head, thinking I would drop a few bucks extra as I left the table.

          The rest of our stay was very nice. We visited. (We do not pull out cell phones during a meal together. We talk and visit with each other.) We offered each other a bite of meals. We relaxed.

          Then it was time to go. We’ve been married a long time. Marsha and I don’t often surprise each other anymore. She reached into her purse for the tip and I reached into my pocket for the money I was going to augment her tip with. She pulled a bill out and laid it down. I was shocked. It was actually more than I was going to leave, and I was going to be generous. Marsha looked at me and said, “Not a word.” I just nodded and we walked out to the cash register. I got in line to pay the bill and Marsha slipped away to the restroom. I was passing time talking with the woman at the register when our waitress popped up. “Thank you both so much. Thank you!” Her eyes were moist and she was truly grateful. Marsha hadn’t left her enough to pay off her car or anything like what you read about occasionally. It was just a bigger tip than usual. But for her, that day, it was what she needed. Strangers saying to her that she was appreciated, that she did a good job, that she was a little bit special. I smiled and nodded my head and she disappeared, headed back to her job. Marsha came back and I told her about it as we walked to the car. It was a pleasant ending to a fun trip.

          There is no reason to make anyone’s life harder than it already is and there is every reason to give people a ‘pick-me-up’ now and again. Galatians 6:2-3 says--- Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. For if anyone thinks he is something, when he is nothing, he deceives himself. Lift someone up today and be a blessing.