THE LAST SUPPER

by Dan Shine

As I walked down the corridor, the old man spotted me immediately. "I know him, he's coming to give me communion," he told his friends.


He was a big man, about six foot four, and he didn't fit easily into his wheelchair. As I approached, he smiled his best smile - which wasn't much, as a stroke had paralyzed one side of his body - and he had only one front tooth showing. Nonetheless, it was clear that this moment was something he had waited eagerly for.


"Before we start, would you like me to read to you the story of the Last Supper?" He nodded, smiling, and took off his baseball cap, revealing a head of rumpled gray hair. As I read from Matthew, again he nodded. "I know that story."


We finished our communion service, and I read him another passage, this time from Isaiah, "...but those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength..." His eyes were bright with appreciation.


"So, how was your Fourth of July weekend?"


Ok. I was just sitting here thinking about my father." He told me the story of a time when he was ten and he had helped his father replace a roof on their house. On and on he went, reliving the story in considerable detail. "The best part of that day was that I was only ten, but my father treated me like I was a man that day - like we were equals. I admired my father so much; I miss him." The voice had gotten a bit hoarse by now. Again he took off his cap, this time to wipe his eyes.


We talked some more, about his many years as a grocer, about his family, about his boyhood home on Washington Avenue. He had so much he wanted to tell me.


Finally, there was no more time for telling. Visiting hours were over, said the voice from the speakers overhead. As I picked up the communion set and the Bible, we said our goodbyes and I shook his hand; his grip was still remarkably strong. I promised to give everyone at church his regards, and I headed for the elevators.


At the corner I turned and looked back. The old man's features had fallen, his eyes had dimmed and his head was bowed. Somewhere in those brief moments, he had left the convalescent home. A boy once more, he was back in the sunshine with his father, laying down shingles on the family homestead, and learning to be a man.


Copyright © 2000 by Dan Shine



When Dan sent me this story that he had written, I immediately saw its potential. It is a poignant and emotional tale that reminds each of us that there will indeed be a Last Supper. Thanks Dan, for the use of this heartfelt story.

Graphics Courtesy of 123 Absolutely Free Graphics