Giving Proof & Living Proof

I’ve had a booth in an antique mall for several years. I use it to make a few extra bucks and, more importantly, justify my basement being such a mess.

There’s a woman who works there named Magan. I’ve never asked her age, but I suspect she’s in her early-40s. She’s cute as a bug and always has a smile that suggests mischief, like somebody who just did something and got away with it.

For all the years I’ve been at the antique mall, Magan and I have had a friendly, but not overly close, relationship. I’ve always thought it was a good idea to be well acquainted with someone who hands you a check every few weeks.

A few months ago, however, things changed.

Through our conversations, I knew her husband, Rickey, was having kidney problems. They were serious. So serious, that he needed a kidney transplant.

And Magan was not only a perfect match, she was going to give him one of her kidneys.

Being the shallow human being I am, aka a man, several jokes immediately came to mind.

For example, I thought, How do you ever get this woman a Christmas present again?

“Oh, Magan, I hope you like this food processor.”

“It’s nice, but it’s not… a kidney like I gave you.”

Of course, humor is my usual way of responding to a serious topic.

But then a voice inside me, the one that speaks to me more often than I let on, said something very different:

“What a gift. It’s not just a kidney. She’s giving the gift of life itself.”

I found myself thinking about it a lot. So much so that a few weeks before the surgery, I told Magan, “Before you go to the hospital, I want to find a quiet place and pray with you.”

Of course, she readily agreed.

What person in their right mind would refuse a prayer when they were about to give up one of their body parts?

Unfortunately, I missed her the next couple of times I went to restock my booth.

On my next trip to the mall, I learned she was in surgery that very minute - about halfway through what would eventually be a six-hour procedure. That’s a long time, even if surgeons don’t work by the hour.

And I had missed our prayer appointment.

Luckily, there was a Mason jar on the counter where you could leave messages for her, so I wrote one from the heart. I told her I was sorry I missed our prayer appointment, but that I had been praying for her and her husband, and I would continue to do so. And I did.

A week later, I learned that everything had gone well. Her husband’s body had accepted the kidney. Both of them were recovering with one kidney each.

I immediately gave thanks. I thanked God for the surgeons. For Magan. For her husband and their families.

And for allowing me to witness something so extraordinary.

Then came today.

I walked into the antique mall, and even though she had her back to me, I knew exactly who was standing behind the counter. The chick with one kidney. 

I stopped what I was doing and waited. Eventually, Magan turned around, saw me and smiled.

“I felt like somebody was looking at me,” she said.

I gave her a hug and told her how happy I was to see her. We talked about her recovery, and I got all the details, including one of her comments that stuck with me.

“It was nice to give someone the gift of life.”

Uh oh. A heavy thoughtful statement. And right on cue, I defaulted to humor.

“So, do you call it your kidney, or is it his kidney now?” I asked.

She smiled that little smile of hers and said, “Oh, it will always be my kidney.”

I walked outside with a smile on my face, got into my truck and, before I started it, I thanked God for letting me play a tiny part in this story. For letting me see true love up close. For letting me witness a sacrifice that asked for nothing in return.

And for reminding me that sometimes the most extraordinary acts of love happen in places where you least expect them, like an antique mall.

And then I thought about her husband. 

While I’m sure he is eternally grateful for the kidney his wife gave him, there is one unfortunate consequence he is going to have to live with for the rest of his life.

He is never going to win another argument with Magan. Ever. Because she has the ultimate final comment:

“I gave you a kidney.”

Poor Rickey. Get used to it, buddy.