JUDGE NOT...

For Q's birthday celebration, we took him, April and Celeste, her three year old daughter, to dinner at Outback. We ordered our drinks and a Bloomin' Onion, and things were underway for a festive dining experience.
Our waiter seemed somewhat distracted, however, and had to be reminded every time someone needed a drink refill. He also neglected to clear away dishes we were finished with, and the table soon became cluttered. We complained among ourselves about the service not being up to speed. After we had finished dessert, we waited a long time for the bill to come. We finally had to signal him that we were ready for it. He was just standing around in the doorway at the back engaged in conversation with another waiter. The bill arrived and we noticed that he had not charged us for any of the drinks. We pointed it out to him and he told us in a soft voice that he hadn't really forgotten. We assumed he meant that he had left the charges off on purpose. A few minutes later he returned and very apologetically informed us that he had brought us the wrong bill, and that he was so sorry but he was having a very bad day. There were no charges for the drinks on the correct bill either. We assured him that we understood, and that everyone has a bad day from time to time, and not to worry about it.
At that point his eyes began to fill with tears, and he told us that he had just received some very bad news. He indicated that he wanted to tell us, a group of complete strangers, about his devastating news. We braced ourselves. He then related how he had received a phone call this afternoon confirming that he has cancer. He has been having frequent nosebleeds and bouts of vomiting. He has Leukemia. We guessed his age at about 25 years old.
Suddenly Q's broken toe which was throbbing under the table didn't seem like such a big deal to him anymore. Len's constant foot pain became a minor issue. The myriad of crises that frequently besiege us were reduced to mere annoyances. Here before us was a young man whose adult life was just getting underway, and in a matter of a few hours all his aspirations, his hopes, his plans, had been yanked out from under him and cruelly replaced with dark, ominous prospects of illness, pain, hospitalization and chemo-therapy with all it's miserable side-effects.
My immediate impulse was to jump up and hold him in my arms. I held back, as I feared that such a gesture would push him over the edge and he would break into uncontrollable sobbing. Instead we asked him if he prayed. He assured us that he did. We asked him if he had family. He lives with his brother, and plans to move back in with his father during the chemo. He said that his father is his best friend. We are thankful that he is a young man of faith, and that he has a strong, supportive family to see him through this ordeal. We assured him that we would be praying for him also.
We left the restaurant in a somber mood, each feeling that we had gained new perspectives. I thought of the saying I once copied into my notebook, "Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle."