“Christ has no body but yours
No hands, no feet on earth but yours
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
Compassion on this world
Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good
Yours are the hands, with which he blesses all the world.
Yours are the hands, yours are the feet
yours are the eyes, you are his body.
Christ has no body now but yours
No hands, no feet on earth but yours
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
compassion on this world.
Christ has no body now on earth but yours.”
St Teresa of Avila (1515-1582)
THIS would have to be one of my favourite, reflective prayers. I say it to remind myself that, even if it is just a smile, then that is important.
However, the other day I was on the receiving end of such a smile.
I seem to have the knack of hitting strange keys on my mobile.
Any time I rang someone or they rang me it would cut out after about five seconds no matter how many times I called them – hence my trip to Telstra. I was about 10 minutes too early and so had to wait.
Although second in the queue, a young woman who just walked into the shop was attended to before me. Admittedly she was younger and prettier than I was and when I remonstrated with the male attendant she offered to step back. However, the male attendant called over another young male employee to attend to me.
Although not in a very happy frame of mind, I explained my problems. Without looking at me, he tapped away at my mobile for a few minutes. We then moved to his computer when he told me it was fixed.
Being the doubting Thomas that I am, I suggested he call me just to confirm. I most probably replaced my vexed look with a happy, thankful one when my mobile responded.
I asked him what I owed him. His reply simply amazed me as he said “just a smile”. I’m sure my face would have broken into a really big smile. But what really stunned me was his face. I can still see it.
His mouth broke into the widest smile I have ever seen that then moved to his eyes. His whole face became one big smile.
My irritability just melted away in the face of such radiance. If that wasn’t the smile of Christ, then I do not know what could be.
I suppose I’m not often on the receiving end of being the one to receive a smile first.
I think I usually smile first, especially with the young people at school where it is not always cool to smile at teachers.
Then I would have thought this young gentleman was just a computer nerd. How wrong I was. I took several lessons away with me.
My phone was fixed and I would now not miss important calls. The world took on a cheery look and I noticed the blue sky, fluffy white clouds, and people, God’s people, milling about me. The world was good as was all in it. But the big lesson was not to judge others.
The young lady who was served ahead of me was not trying to push me out of the way; she had just innocently walked into the shop.
The young man who served her had simply seen her first. The young man who served me was not put out because he was called to attend to my needs.
He simply was wanting to make things right for me and was delighted when he had achieved this, most probably so quickly.
I really needed to take on board the St Teresa of Avila prayer: “yours are the eyes”.
I was annoyed because I had to wait for 10 minutes. It was nobody’s fault – I just happened to be early. I had misconstrued the scene because I was looking through my “angry eyes”. What would I have done with those extra 10 minutes?
I’m not sure if my attendant belonged to any organised religion but he certainly had responded in a very Christ-like manner.
He was truly Christ’s hands and smile for me, bringing calm and peace so that I could look upon God’s world and see that “it was very good”. (Genesis 1:31)
Sr Elvera Sesta is a Presentation Sister who teaches at St Ritaís College, Clayfield.
