Day 72: One arm

That was his defining feature and the thing that first caught my attention. His arm was gone from about the elbow on down. His wife was with him when they sat down at the table next to me. This was at a restaurant in the French Quarter of New Orleans. I got done with my job for the day and figured if I was going to find someone for this project today, I might as well do it in the heart of the city. Now this isn't something I naturally would be inclined to do. The French Quarter, home to Bourbon Street, isn't a place I normally would spend much time. A lot of people. A lot of traffic. A lot of activity. Not my speed.

But there I was. It was a hot day in Louisiana, and I ducked into the restaurant looking for a quick lunch. They really didn't serve lunch. It was more of a cafe serving coffee and beignets. A beignet, I discovered, is remarkably identical to a funnel cake, like what you can get at any carnival. But people were gobbling them up like they were delicacies. It was nearly entirely a tourist crowd there in the cafe, probably from all over the country and the world.

The one-armed man and his wife came and sat at a table next to me. "I'll take coffee, the strongest you've got," he told the waitress cheerfully, although she wasn't responding in kind. He got his coffee and his wife got a soda, and they sat silently watching people come and go. They were probably in their 60s. 

We got up at the same time to leave, so I turned to the man and greeted him. Then I asked if I could pray for them. They both paused at this and I looked at the man, waiting for a response. He put his hand on my shoulder and said that would be fine. When I told him I wanted to pray for them right there, he stepped immediately away. "Right now," he said, "we're going to go for a walk along the canal." It wasn't an invitation for me to join them, and he turned away from me. I glanced at his wife, still seated, as I was walking away, and she had puzzled look on her face, like she didn't really hear how the exchange ended. 

I just left, knowing her husband would fill her in. I prayed for them both as I walked back along Decatur Street to my car.