God's Nudge

Kaylee, the auburn hair, freckle-faced, sixteen-year-old, drove herself to work for her first job ever, in a nursing home. The dark brown tiled floor of the dining room forced squeaks from her shoes. The blond wood wainscoting gave it class while the wallpaper emitted a home-like atmosphere by using large, window-like patterns filled with wild birds at a bird feeder.

Her job would be working in the kitchen as a dietary aide. She passed between tables into the kitchen. Countertop, dishwasher equipment, and utensils gleamed of stainless steel. She liked it. It would be easy to keep clean.

The teenager said “Hello” to the cook while passing through to the supervisor’s office at the back. Confused at no supervisor there, she returned to the cook.

“I had an appointment to talk to the person who interviewed me. She isn’t there,” Kaylee said with frustration creeping into her voice.

“Yep,” the cook said, who continued to peel cooked eggs.

“I don’t even know your name,” said Kaylee. “I’m Kaylee Carter.”

“I’m Rosita Sourd,” said the plump woman with a touch of gray in her hair. “Just call me Rosy. If you will be here long enough to remember.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind.”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

The cook dried off her hands and pulled a crumpled paper out of her pocket. “Here’s a list of what to do. Start with the snacks.”

After Kaylee prepared raw carrots, put together diabetic sandwiches, and dished out Jello, the supervisor still had not shown up.

“Put the food on a tray on the cart,” said Rosy.

Finally arriving, the interviewer looked at Kaylee.  “I’m Patricia Klein,” said the twenty-year-old woman had dyed blond and wavy hair. “I can’t talk to you now because I will be filling out the food and supply order.” Turning to Rosy, she said, “Where is the list of what I should order?”

“It’s on your desk.”

After Patricia went in her office and closed the door, Rosy spoke while waving a large metal stirring spoon at Kaylee. “Don’t go calling her ‘Pat’. She doesn’t like it. No use making her mad your first day.” Under her breath, she said, “The cockette.”

“I’m done with the snacks. I was going to ask Patricia what to do next.”

“Serve the snacks,” said the cook, who handed another paper. “This tells who gets what. You’ll have to ask them their names.”

Kaylee shrugged her shoulders and pushed the snack cart out to the waiting line of residents.

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Kaylee only worked three days before noticing Patricia needed a lot of breaks. First it was a cigarette break, then a bathroom break, yet again a break to call someone.

On returning, Patricia surveyed her domain and her gaze landed on Kaylee. “Kaylee, fill the cereal dispensers.”

Confused, Kaylee looked at the dispensers, noted if Patricia could see them, then back at the cereal dispensers.  “I already filled them,” she said, pointing in the general direction.

“Oh. Go ahead and fill the salt and pepper shakers.”  

“Right now, I need to prepare the Jello for tomorrow.”

“You can do that afterward.”

“But the residents—"

“You do what I say, you hear?” Patricia flipped her long hair over her shoulder as she held her head high.

While Kaylee’s anger increased, she debated who to obey.

The supervisor turned her attention to the cook. “You’re awful messy making those biscuits. Do it faster so you can start clean-up quicker. If you don’t, I’ll fire you.”

“Do you know how to make biscuits?” said the cook. She lifted her hands—doughy from kneading—toward the supervisor’s face. “Do you want to do it?” The young woman backed off.

Regaining her sense of authority, Patricia said, “You be sure and have them done by breakfast.” Then she left. Rosy and Kaylee had no idea where she went, but were relieved she departed.

“I want to do what she says,” Kaylee said to the cook, “solely to get her in trouble. She will have only herself to blame.”

Kaylee watched the cook open an institutional size can of peaches. “You’ve already made the salad. Yesterday, didn’t Patricia say you were to open the fruit before making the salad?”

Rosy glared at her as she slammed the can opener into the can. “Are you going to tell me what to do too?”

Kaylee sucked in her breath and tilted her head back a bit. “Absolutely not! But how am I supposed to know what to do? I thought supervisors . . . supervised. You know, make the work go smoothly.”

Rosy wrinkles showed around her eyes as she almost smiled. “Take my advice. ‘Uh huh’ and ‘yes’ her, but do what’s right. I’m here for you to ask. I’ve been here thirty years. I know what works.”

 Kaylee breathed easier and started in on making Jello.

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The next few weeks went smoothly as Kaylee obeyed the cook rather than the supervisor. It did not matter because Patricia gave orders before deserting the kitchen.

One day, the cook ran a little behind while Kaylee finished early.

“Can I help you?” she asked the cook.

Rosy looked at the clock. “Yes. Open a can of green beans and put in the warming tray.”

Kaylee lifted the green bean can off the storage rack. Patricia arrived in time to confront the new aide.

“Are you stealing that?”

“Nooo. Of course not. I am opening it to help Rosy.”

“You are not to help Rosy. You are to do your own work.”

“I did it so Rosy could begin frying chicken.”

“You obey me, or I’ll fire you. Rosy— “

The fifty-year-old cook glared at her with a challenge in it. “I’ve been here thirty years. If you fire me, this place will fall apart, and you will be blamed.”

“—Make sure that chicken is fully cooked.”

Patricia exited through the dining room.

Kaylee did not sleep well that night. She intended to do a good job but dreaded being fired so quick. The young girl realized the need to heed the advice of the cook’s experience. Deciding she needed to pray, the teenager prayed for Patricia, Rosy, and herself. A nudge came to pray for the administrator as well. She prayed for him because she ought to talk to him.

Because she ought to talk to him! Kaylee cringed. I’m already in trouble with Patricia, thought the young girl. How much worse will it be coming from the administrator? He is the one who hired her. Then again, maybe he does not know the problem. The nudge became a push. Kaylee cried as she prayed for God to work on his end when she talked to him.

The next day, she finished her work at 3pm, the shift’s end. She gathered her courage and headed for the administrator’s office. Maybe he left for the day.

The girl knocked on the door with the sign stating “Randolph Klein, Administrator.” Klein? Was he related to Patricia? She gathered courage from Proverbs 3:6 “Trust in the Lord and lean not to your own understanding.”

“Come in.”

Kaylee’s hand trembled imperceptibly, but her voice showed no fear. “I’m Kaylee Carter, the new dietary aide.”

“Have a seat. What can I do for you?”

She gripped the arms of the chair. “Mr. Klein, I’m having trouble doing my job.”

“I’m sure Patricia will help you.”

“That’s the problem. I follow the cook’s instructions. Ms. Klein comes along and tells me to obey her and not the cook. Like filling salt and peppers shakers before doing snacks. She says to do things I’ve already done, like filling cereal dispensers. I also counted. Ms. Klein took five breaks in one morning. Because of that, I couldn’t ask her questions.”

“I’m listening.”

Kaylee licked her lips before continuing. “She threatened to fire me.”

“Are you going to quit?”

“Not yet.”

“Good. You are the third kitchen employee in the last two months. Maybe, kitchen work is more complicated than I thought. I’ll talk to Ms. Sourd and see if she agrees with you. I appreciate you coming to me with your concerns rather than gossiping.”

Kaylee breathed a sigh of relief after exiting the office.

Two days later, Patricia, on Kaylee’s arrival, took her into the supervisor’s office. Ms. Klein shut the door.

“How dare you,” said Patricia, “go to my uncle. He told me what you said.” With hurt in her voice, she continued, “None of it is true.” Her pride returned. “Because of you, Uncle Randolph is going to have a person here to observe. That person will do nothing else. My uncle hired me. He will not fire me because I am his niece.” She speeded up her speech. “But I don’t have to put up with your lack of respect. You’re fired!”

Before the end of the shift, Patricia accompanied Kaylee by the nurse’s desk and out of the nursing home. Barely able to drive home, Kaylee switched between anger and crying. She wiped away tears with one hand while steering. How dare she fire me when I was doing a good job. Tears erupted again. I must have done something wrong. I shouldn’t have gone to Mr. Klein. Now I can’t do anything about having been fired.

On opening the door to her home, the teenager called for her mother. On seeing the tears, red eyes, and blubbery nose, she rushed to her daughter to hold her. 

“It was awful,” sobbed Kaylee. “Patricia escorted me to the exit past all the staff like a disobedient dog. I was never so embarrassed. And angry.”

The mother let her cry as she prayed for Kaylee. “Father, you know how she tried so hard at the job. It is unfair to be fired for no good reason, but you are sovereign and in control of whatever job she has. Help her to forgive Patricia. In Jesus name Amen.

“Forgive her?! I won’t do it!” said Kaylee.

“What did Jesus say about forgiving?” warned her mother.

Kaylee frowned and stalled. “Forgive seventy times seven. I don’t even know if I can forgive.”

“You can’t. That would be works by willpower. Reach out to her, and God will do the rest.”

A month later, Kaylee recognized the gleaming white car of Patricia in the grocery store parking lot. Her former supervisor stood by a rear tire that looked like a dark chocolate doughnut with the bottom edge cut off. Patricia stomped her foot.

Kaylee started to gloat, but changed to sympathy on seeing Patricia’s tears. With a reminder to love her enemies, she sighed and walked to Patricia.

“Do you need help?”

To Kaylee’s surprise, the woman lifted her head, sniffled, and held back tears. “No. I don’t need anyone,” said Patricia.

“Have you called for help?”

“My cell phone is dead.”

“You can use mine.”

She cocked her head away from Kaylee’s view. “I can’t afford to have it towed.”

“I’d like to help. I know how to change a tire.”

“Are you here to revel in my problems? You’ll probably get revenge by sabotaging it.”

“No. No revenge!” Kaylee felt insulted. “I know how to change a tire and I won’t charge you anything.” With a much softer voice, she added. “I just want to see you make it home.”

Patricia examined Kaylee’s face for signs of revenge and anger. The teenager was calm. Not rushing her. Patricia looked at the tire. “The day is shot anyway. Why not?”

“Now, can you pop the trunk so I can see what you have?”

Patricia walked to the driver’s door, reached in, and pressed a button. Inside the trunk, Kaylee found what she needed: a jack, a four-way wrench, and the donut tire.

“I’m glad,” said Kaylee, “this donut wheel is in the trunk and not underneath the car. I don’t think I would have had the wrenches to take it from there.”

She placed the jack under the car frame, near the flat tire. 

“How do you know how to change a tire?”

The tire remained on the ground until she jerked the lug nuts loose. “My older brother, Chris.” The teenager pumped the lever of the jack which lifted the tire off the ground and spun the four-way wrench until the lug nuts came off.

“My boyfriend,” said Patricia, “left me this morning when he found out my uncle fired me. All he knew how to do was run up bills on my credit card.”

After putting the donut tire on, the young girl said, “Wow! Getting fired and losing a boyfriend on the same day. What could be worse?” She released the jack which let the tire down. Then used the wrench to tighten the lug nuts.

“Not having money for rent,” said Patricia. “Your help has been the first thing to go right today.”

“I hate to tell you this,” said Kaylee, “but this is not just a flat tire. It is a blow-out. You need a new tire.” Tears released from Patricia’s eyes at the news.

“I’ve saved some money,” continued Kaylee. “I could buy a new tire for you. And I wouldn’t make you pay it back.”

“You’d do that for me? Why? I fired you.”

“Jesus said to love your enemies.” Her eyes widened and held her hand over her mouth. “Whoops.”

“Is that how you think of me? Your enemy?”

“I did when you were my supervisor…Do you want me to follow you home?”

“Yes… Or to your house. I want to meet your brother and have him teach me how to change a flat and do some maintenance on my car.” Patricia’s eyes twinkled. “Maybe there will be romance in the air with your brother.”