A masterclass in ice-breaking

I’m in a store today, waiting outside the changing rooms for my wife. The lady who puts clothes away–she’s a Muslim. She’s talking to a guy in a wheelchair. I’m getting a masterclass in how a conversation is launched with compassion. I didn’t hear the start but…

Are you from Ethiopia?

Do you speak Arabic?

Are you a Muslim?

_Do you have a caregiver at home?+

It is very hard right? You can be very calm or very angry.

Then she launched into a story about her son, who I surmise also has a disability.

But it is good to have someone to talk to?

I have six children. He is the oldest.

And on. Now they are back and forth. She persistently broke the ice, and now they are talking easily back and forth.

How did you come here?

I wish you could meet and spend time with my son.

It wasn’t small talk–small for the sake of small, for killing time. It was quite purposeful. I don’t think she pre-planned the questions, obviously, and it wasn’t a script, but she didn’t hesitate to ask questions that probed into the man’s life. And the way she asked them–coupled with compassion and stories from her own life, and persistence–eventually won his trust and openness.

I didn’t get to hear the end. I don’t suppose we often get to hear the end of the story. But if and when Jesus wins that dear lady to himself, it’s people like her that will advance a movement in America and the west. It’s people like her that show me the possibilities. 

In fact, now that I think about it–she dressed like a Muslim. She asked if he was a Muslim. But she didn’t say she was…?