Balancing edges

When Tammy’s tray crashed to the ground, students around her in the lunch line jumped to her aid. Tom, the fourth floor prefect who moments before had teased her about possible hi-tech improvements to her motorized wheelchair that she could get from the tech department, quickly set down his plate and ran for help. Alex arrived out of the kitchen with a broom and preceded to sweep up the bits of salad and ceramic plate.

Tom handed Tammy another plate. “I guess you can just go in that direction now,” he told her as he moved past her to keep the line moving.

Connie, a middle-aged Episcopalian divinity student from Seattle, put her arm around Tammy and asked her what would make her most comfortable in that moment. Tammy leaned forward to help herself to a piece of the homemade whole-wheat crusted goodness.

I was next in line and went to serve her with the spatula I was holding. As I placed a slice of pizza on her plate, my own tray fell and landed face down on the ground, spilling my pizza and my salad, complete with my favorite sesame dressing, down my pant leg and onto my shoe.

“There’s a sermon in here somewhere,” I heard Connie say as I headed to the kitchen to retrieve the broom which Alex had just put down. I could hardly contain my laughter.

I don’t know if my upset tray was the direct action that would help Tammy feel most comfortable in that moment. I don’t know what the message of the sermon might be. But I do know that when a large sheet tray is perpendicular to the food service cart, the space available for a tray is not enough of an edge to hold it upright.

It’s a knowledge that Tammy and I will undoubtedly giggle about for some days to come.