He reached out and touched my arm as I was walking away from the ATM machine. Of course, my first response was to be a little jumpy. I turned around and noticed that he was pushing a crinkled envelope towards me and saying something I couldn't understand.
I looked up and saw that he was an older Asian manno one to fear, so I could relax and try to figure out what he was saying. I listened a little longer, and still couldn't understand his words, but I could tell he needed help making his deposit because he couldn't read enough English to work the ATM machine.
He put his card in the machine, and we stepped through the process together. It was an odd dance trying to help and still observe the courtesy rules of not watching someone punch all their numbers in. But we did it-then he thanked me and walked away.
When I got back in the car with Scott, I felt this odd exhilaration. Was it because I had served? Maybe a little, but that didn't seem quite right. Was it because I had done some terribly challenging task and succeeded? Hardly.
It was the man's humility. It was so precious. He wasn't embarrassed to ask for help. He didn't spend ten minutes assuring me how smart he was in other areas, but just couldn't master the ATM machine. He didn't apologize profusely for needing help, like others of us do who are generally too proud to ask anyone for anything.
I liked this man. I think I liked him so much because he's the kind that God likes so much. Psalm 147:6-11 says:
"The LORD sustains the humble but casts the wicked to the ground...His pleasure is not in the strength of the horse, nor his delight in the legs of a man; the LORD delights in those who fear him, who put their hope in his unfailing love."
Oh, to be just like that.