Money Laundering

A decision to wash pillows at a Laundromat required me to leave my suburban Atlanta community where such businesses have become nonexistent in this new century.  I drove seven miles to Norcross, a district now populated by working class Mexicans, where laundries remain in strip malls.  On Saturday morning I arrived before the opening at 7:00 and found the business to be open and uncrowded.  I loaded my pillows, plus some gym clothes, in their largest commercial washer and then left in order to treat myself to breakfast.  When I returned, just before 8:00, the laundry was full of Mexican men, plus one American.  I chose a dryer next to him, a good choice for he was open to conversing. As I stood surrounded by a culture different from my own,  he explained his preference for this laundry, and concluded:  “The Mexicans here are quiet.”  Indeed they were.  The chugging of the washers, and the rhythmic thuds of clothes tumbling in the dryers, was more audible than conversation.   I was certain that I was among hard working men, who had no time for chores during the week, yet who were working on them early on a weekend morning.

As I pulled my gym clothes from the dryer, I put them into a rolling basket.  I noticed a dollar neatly folded on top of the wire.  SuddenIy, I felt the boyhood joy of finding a stray dollar on the street.  Yet there were far too many men present to determine whose pocket the bills had escaped from.  So I tossed the wet cash into my laundry basket and proceeded with my tasks.  Once home, I unfolded the still damp money, full of the fragrance of Tide, and discovered that I had collected $27.  There was no joy at that moment.   I realized that I was in possession of funds lost by an unknown hard-working, quiet man.  I did not need that money; the Mexican probably did.

I resolved my dilemma by contributing $27 to World Vision’s ministry: “ Food, Clothing and Basics in the USA.”   While not a major philanthropic gift, the man’s hard earned funds will serve God’s work in a community of poverty, similar to Norcross.  Perhaps I have sent ‘the widow’s mite’ into an impoverished  neighborhood.   Hopefully a person of need will be blessed by new clothing which they will show pride in while they clean it in another launderette.

My story is not intended to be about me, nor my gift.  Yet my musing is prologue for my prayer request.  Please join me in interceding for this man.  I trust that Paul’s promise to the Philippians will be realized in the person’s life.  May he learn to be more careful with his cash in the future.  May God bless him by miraculously restoring his lost funds.   May his labors bear fruit for him and his family; his ‘gift’ bring hope to another community.

"And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of His glory in Christ Jesus.  (Philippians 4:19)

Perhaps cleanliness is next to Godliness after all.  A simple trip to a Laundromat, an excursion into another culture, set my mind ablaze with thoughts and concerns. I trusted that I had made a proper decision as I laid my head to rest on my clean pillow that night.