Out of My Comfort Zone: Part One

Usually when I walk into a waiting room the decor catches my eye, makes me smile; there is soft soothing music, has a calming effect; the scent in the room smells good, draws a person in.  Yesterday I went with a friend to a County Human Service Center. When I walked into this waiting room there was a small attempt to warm one wall with a soft peach tone, that created a somberness; there was a painful, ear deafening furnace hum, that agitated those in the room; the smell in the room was a mixture of dusty stale air and old man which caused a person to want to leave the room.

A young Hispanic couple was in there with their adorable toddler daughter. The tiny children's play area had only a handful of grimy toys to play with. I wish I could be Mary Poppins and open my carpet bag and pull out fun toys for her to play with or pull a storybook out, sit down and read to her.

There was a six month old baby coughing and crying. His caregiver did not pick him up from the stroller but merely handed the baby a bottle and pushed him around the room to calm and sooth him. I wanted to jump up run over there, scoop that little boy up, hold him and fill up his 'love tank'. Instead, I prayed for him - his future, his salvation and wiped away tears that fell from my eyes.
There's more to the story: Out of My Comfort Zone: Part Two.