“At a Roadside Table,” Ensign, Aug. 1981, 5
grimy, hungry, worn—
shedding work gloves, hard hats,
orange vests—and dropped down heavily
at a near-by table.
With surprising neatness
they unloaded black
lunch buckets, carefully spreading
napkins and placing food in
precise eating order.
Then, as if by one accord,
heads lifted, all eyes met …
heads bowed …
and while traffic roared relentlessly by,
one offered a sincere and prolonged
word of prayer—thanking the Lord
for all blessings of the day
and for food prepared by loving hands.
I, who until then, had looked on
in silent amusement
suddenly felt a tightening
in my throat and a wetness
on my cheeks.