"I met Jesus on the bus today."

I received a very powerful email yesterday from one of my groups. It has stayed with me, and I asked his permission to post it here. With just a few minor changes (editorial wise) and a request to be known only by 'Anonymous', he graciously gave me permission.

Thank you, 'Anonymous'. You have learned the lesson of Mother Teresa!
God bless!

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ,

I wish to tell you how I met Jesus on the bus today.

Now before you hit the "Delete" button, hear me out. I'd like a chance to explain first- and then you may delete me to your heart's content.

As some of you may or may not remember- aside from being a deacon in the Catholic Church- I am also a firefighter/EMT with the city of Austin, Texas. As such, I have just spent the last 24-36 hours of my shift helping- along with scores of other firefighters, EMTs, and volunteers from all walks of life -the literally thousands of refugees who have been displaced by Hurricane Katrina and who are- even as we speak -being flown in by commercial and military aircraft in order that they may be temporarily relocated at various shelters here in and throughout Austin. My work was with those who would be primarily housed at the Austin Convention Center with Palmer Auditorium serving as an auxiliary emergency medical treatment center for those needing more serious medical care.

One of my many duties this past day and a half was to assist the refugees from the aircraft onto various school and public transportation buses, which would then take them from the Austin-Bergstrom International Airport to the Austin Convention Center where they would receive- in addition to medical attention they might need -hot food, hot showers, and place to finally sleep (many of whom had been up for more than 24 hours straight getting here to Austin).

Once loaded on board the buses, my job was then to ride that bus with them to (1) help maintain order, and (2) to provide any emergency medical treatment that may be needed while en-route. As you might imagine, this was quite an undertaking- and an undertaking of a nature that invariably results in sometimes lengthy delays as various logistical problems and kinks are worked out on the fly.

As a result, I was given the opportunity to spend a great deal of time with these folks talking with- and in some cases -ministering to them. I was struck by many things.

It struck me with that that many of these people had been through a literal hell was the understatement of the year. The stories many of them would tell me on the bus ride from the airport to the convention center touched, moved, and often saddened me to tears. I am not ashamed to admit that in the least.

I heard first hand the many stories of their fight to stay alive long enough to be rescued. Then, having been rescued, of their having to continue to fight for their survival at the various shelters set up f the evacuees- many of whom came from the Superdome itself (their accounts of the conditions there are *absolutely* and *unbelievably* horrendous to hear).

I heard stories of those who were separated from loved ones.

I heard the fears and concerns for those that were left behind to an unknown fate.

Stories of those who did not make it.

I saw women- and men -with fresh bruises on their faces and bodies- some of them caused by those who would pray upon the weak and defenseless.

I saw traumatized men, women, and children of all ages, shapes and sizes.

I saw and heard the sorrow of families torn apart by Katrina- of children separated from their mothers and fathers- of mothers and fathers separated from their children- of husbands and wives separated from one another.

I saw those who had no family but a beloved pet dog or cat. (I do not exaggerate when I say that when the rear cargo hatch of the Air Force C17 opened up, it looked as if Noah's Ark itself had landed, so numerous were the pets that were fortunate enough to be rescued along with their owners!)

I saw those who had no one or nothing.

I saw people whose remaining earthly possessions could be fitted into containers ranging in size and shape from shoulder bags, duffle bags, to small carry-on suitcases, to cardboard boxes- to what could be stuffed into a medium sized, black, Hefty Trash bag.

I saw people who were so exhausted, dehydrated, and hungry that we had to carry and/or wheel them from the arriving aircraft onto nearby buses and ambulances for immediate EVAC to either one of the many hospitals in the city (IF room was available), or to the temporary emergency treatment/trauma center at the Palmer Event Center.

The healthier ones (or the "walking wounded" as they were sometimes called- not out of disrespect -for we understood that though they may not be physically injured in some way, they were certainly psychologically and spiritually wounded) were transported directly to the convention center, where they underwent further triage and assistance, until they were finally able to shower, obtain clean clothes- and the first hot meal many of them have had since before Katrina struck on Monday, and- finally -a place to safely lay their wearied bodies.

Of the many conversations I had with our displaced brothers and sisters over the course of the last twenty-four hours, one short but poignant conversation really touched my heart. I was sitting next to a 79 year old gentleman who turned to me and said, "Ya know, after all the terrible things I've been through and all the terrible things I saw over the last few days- especially the last 24 -after looking at all the people and all the work it took to get this tired old man to Austin, Texas..." his voice beginning to tremble slightly "I'm more convinced now than ever before that there are still a lot of good people left in this world. Thank you."

This might sound a bit dumb, but I was momentarily and literally dumbstruck. Imagine! This man- after all that he'd been through since a Hurricane named Katrina practically washed out to sea most of the life this man has ever known -thanking ME- a dumb ol' firefighter? After all, what had I really done to deserve such words of praise and thankfulness? What I’ve done is nothing compared to the efforts of so many others…

Then I suddenly snapped to and realized, "It's not just YOU he's thanking, you goof! He's thanking all those who've helped him over these last few days. All those souls who've given of themselves to show a complete and total stranger so much love, concern and compassion- all those who've cared for him, fed him, clothed him and gone out of their way to make a (now) homeless stranger feel welcomed in a strange city in Texas called 'Austin'."

(The only defense I could possibly offer for such a momentary lapse and slowness of awareness and insight is that I had been up for almost 24 hours straight myself breathing mostly jet fumes.)

So I said the only thing I could think to say: "You are very, very welcome, Sir. It's the least we can do for you all after all that you've been through."

It wasn't until a few moments ago- this very evening- feeling a little bad that I had to miss Mass today because of work, and how I wouldn't be receiving Christ in the Eucharist (at least today), that it hit me: Matthew 25: 35-40!!

I may not have been able to attend Mass or receive Christ in the Eucharist today, but perhaps I received something even better: I got to spend the entire night and most of the day riding the bus and talking with Jesus in the flesh!

-Jesus in the form of the 79 year old man.

-Jesus in the form a little boy who was so traumatized by what he'd been through that he buried his head- and kept it buried -in my neck all the way from the airport to the convention center.

-Jesus in the elderly woman confined to a wheelchair because of diabetes and arthritis.

-Jesus in the young man who was suffering from withdrawal.

-Jesus in the scared and worried woman who had lost her husband somewhere between Houston and Austin (but who eventually found each other later at the convention center).

So yes, I got to ride the bus with Jesus today alright. And he came to me in many different shapes and sizes, wearing many different faces, and looking at me with many different sets of eyes. And in those I eyes I saw and met the Christ- in every single last one of these "least" ones.

And so we sat next to each other and talked; he speaking to me with a Cajun dialect, and I to him with a bit of a Texas drawl.

Call me crazy or simply sleep deprived if you wish, but after I get some rest I plan on spending a little more time with Jesus again tomorrow- and I can't wait to see what he's going to look like this time!

Now, if you like, you may delete this letter- but before you do I would like to ask one more thing of you, and that is for all of you to please pray for the victims of Hurricane Katrina and all who are working to save lives, restore order, and to give aid and comfort to all those in need that they may know God’s strength and compassion.

God bless all of you for your prayers.

Yours in Christ Jesus,

"Anonymous"