Letters from Roscoe – Miss Vickie

Miss Vickie

We were on the road heading home and we had stopped in at a Cracker Barrel restaurant for lunch.  It was Sunday and the churches in the local area had just finished their morning worship.

The place was slammed.

As we were seated, you couldn’t help but notice the frenzied activity of waiters and waitresses rushing in and out of the kitchen.  The noise in the restaurant from all the conversations being carried on was almost deafening.  Our waitress approached and in a quiet, voice welcomed us and asked for our drink order. She was small.  Her brown apron with four gold stars read ‘Vickie’.

She was probably less than five feet tall and probably not as old as she looked.  But she was probably as tired as she looked.  She wore glasses and had stringy long brown hair. From where I sat, I could watch the doorway to the kitchen area.  I could see Miss Vickie as she navigated through all the other ‘busy people’ rushing in and out of that door. 

She was different from the others. 

In as much as she blended in with the wallpaper so to speak she also stood out.  She was avoided by everyone around her.  No one spoke with her.  No one smiled.  It didn’t appear that she had any friends among her co-workers.  As she walked in and out of the kitchen, the traffic just parted around her as if she were some immovable object that was strong and firm. But she didn’t appear to be strong and firm.  Miss Vickie looked like someone who had been beaten down by life and was now like a piece of jetsam being washed back and forth in the surf.  She just moved along,sometimes with the flow, sometimes laboring against it.

If there was ever someone who you could describe as ‘meek’,she was it.  I can clearly imagine that when Jesus said in Matthew 5:5 (KJV)

‘Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.’

He was talking about her.

Miss Vickie served us and all the other tables in her charge in her quiet and dutiful manner.  After other wait staff had brought our food to us, we bowed our heads in prayer to give thanks for the meal.  Miss Vickie approaching at the conclusion of grace finished it with us . . . ‘in Jesus name.  Amen’

Hearing that, I am fairly certain, Miss Vickie is a fellow Christian.  I am also fairly certain she leans heavily on those everlasting arms.  I am also fairly certain that she also spends a lot of time talking with God.

And it is that time she spends with Him each and every day and hour that keeps her going in this life.

There wasn’t much that I could do to help Miss Vickie.  So I thanked her, left a generous tip and prayed for her.

One day Miss Vickie, you will be rewarded properly.  You shall inherit the earth.