“Isn’t that uniform a bother to you, with people always coming up to you?†my brother asked as we walked into a McDonald’s. Next thing I knew, a woman stopped me to ask where to find help with a utility bill.
After directing her to the right place for assistance, the words “the uniform a bother?†echoed in my mind and I thought about the previous week.
As I signed a check to buy supplies for our Thrift Store from Sam’s Club, the clerk, seeing my Salvation Army jacket, asked me how she could get her 25-year-
old son into one of the Salvation Army’s recovery programs. After talking with her, we clasped hands and prayed together for her and her son.
As I sat in the veterinarian’s office with my dog Tuba, an elderly man sat down next to me carrying a small dog that looked to me like a small rat. After a few moments the man leaned his head over and said, “I noticed those red things on your shirt. Are you with The Salvation Army?†I nodded. He began to weep and shake. Uncertain what to do, I put my arm around his shoulder and began patting him on the back. After a few minutes he regained his composure and said, “I’m sorry. My wife passed away just last week. Just before she died a group from the Salvation Army League of Mercy came and visited with her and got her to laughing. It was the last time I heard her laugh.â€
Before I could respond, the receptionist called his name. He picked up his dog, looked at me, gave a half salute, grinned and walked away.
As I was pumping gas and wondering if the price would ever go below a trillion dollars a gallon, a young woman pushing, carrying and pulling three small girls across the parking lot spotted me in my uniform. She changed direction and came over to where I was standing. With the look of a crazed woman (three small children will do that, you know), she asked me, “Can you help? I’ve got no money, no food and no diapers.†Just at that moment, the baby she was carrying threw up on me. In desperation and with a keen grasp of the absurdity of the moment, the woman then shrieked at the top of her lungs, “And my baby is sick!†A trip to the grocery store produced baby formula, diapers, medicine, food and peace of mind for Mom.
While at the store the clerk behind the counter stared at my shirt epaulets and barked at me in a thick Brooklyn accent, “Are you the Captain? I used to be an adherent (member) up in New York. You got a corps here in town? I’m thinking about getting into that whole church thing again. I’ve got kids and stuff now. What do you think Captain, would that be a good idea?â€
Minutes later I emerged shell-shocked (or word-shocked) from the store with my purchases and a new member for our corps.
Is the uniform a bother? Because of this unique sign of Christianity with its sleeves rolled up, ready to work, I was able to pray with those affected by addiction, comfort one who was grieving, provide help at the point of need and embrace someone back into the family of God.
I looked at my brother. “The uniform a bother? No bother at all.â€
By Captain Jim McGee
Captain Jim McGee serves in the Elizabeth City, North Carolina corps.
Reprinted with permission from U.S. War Cry