There's a nursing home I visit on a regular basis, so much so that a lot of the residents know me by sight.  One particular day, more of them than usual were lined up around the entry foyer, hair freshly done, hands folded around the latest book or knitting project, waiting for the guest that never comes.  As I walked by and said hello, one of the women who knows me by sight, began calling out to me and anyone who would listen, "The Body of Christ is here-- The Body of Christ is here".  They were just full of themselves this day, and the one lone chanter motivated the rest of the wheel-chair gang and they decided to follow me down the hall, a small parade actually, not too close, though close enough, so that I could keep pace with their cantoring, "The Body of Christ is here, the Body of Christ is here!"

I reached my destination, which was Mrs. Jones room. She was curled up in a ball, buried in a heap of soft blankets...no more ready to receive "That woman priest" than I felt ready to be there.  An aid soon came in, wearing a smile that spread out like a welcome mat.  He let me know how good it was for me to come, and then he went directly to Mrs. Jones.  With empathic gentleness he touched her shoulder and said, "Mrs. Jones, Nancy Lee is here to celebrate the Eucharist with you."  "No, I don't want to see her-she hasn't been here in 10 years--nope, I don't want communion today".  Gently yet firmly, her aid replied, "I bet Megan does", gesturing towards the doll that Mrs. Jones always kept clutched in her arms..."Megan, do you want communion today?"  "Yes, I need it.  Please can we have some special bread & wine", this dedicated-to-Mrs. Jones-aid said with a voice-character he had developed just for the Megan-doll-personality!  With that, Mrs. Jones rolled over-bearing a smile with a giggle I'd never seen her wear before, her baby-doll Megan clutched close to her chest.

I began to set the table for us...the table being whatever surface I can find on any particular day that I visit.  The Body of Christ ladies had circled the door.  The aid, whose name is Ed -- minimum wage Ed who goes to night school, one class at a time, gaining on his hours towards a nursing degree -- lifts Mrs. Jones into her wheel chair with Megan still in her lap. Ed turns towards the door and announces to one and all, "If you ladies are so excited about the Body of Christ then come on in here and have some".  This, let me remind you, was an invitation of prophetic hospitality by Ed, considering the Body of Christ cantors were mostly Jewish octogenarians and this was not a Passover celebration!   We got through communion somehow -- Ed, Mrs. Jones, Megan, one Jewish guest and myself, although to be honest, the setting and behavior of my guests alone was enough to scare me silly.  The other guests clapped with each bite of bread, cheering, "there goes Jesus". 

This is not the end of the story with Mrs. Jones-- this day-however. As Ed fussed over her hair, straightening the blanket on her lap, we both noticed Mrs. Jones weeping.  Ed retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket, knelt down and with one hand holding hers, took his other hand and wiped her tears.  "What's wrong with my sweetheart?" knowing full well what she would say.   "I miss him so much.  I just miss him.  He's been gone so long.  Will I ever see him again?"  Without saying a word, he just held her and let her cry.  Her shoulders heaved as only a broken heart can -- Ed stroked her back.  "Will I ever stop missing him-will it ever go away?"  "No honey", as he held her, "No it won't...but I'm going to take good care of you.  Don't you worry."