LITHOGRAPHS FROM LITHUANIA

We were on our way home from the hospital on a snowy afternoon--a mother, her two young boys, and me.  I asked them if they would like to eat at the new McDonalds restoranas. The boys in the back seat nodded rapidly and glanced at each other with raised eyebrows.  Pausing near the front door at the plastic statue of Ronald McDonald, the boys looked over at the colorful slide.  “Can we?” they asked their mother. “Ne,” she said, with a quick shake of the head, “You would have to pay.”  When I reassured her that it was free, she let the boys walk over. The slide, half-covered with snow, was crawling with children.    

The boys disappeared into one of the round blocks of the slide's interior.  Only the muffled sound of their giggles proved they were still there. They reappeared at the top of the slide with wide smiles, only to disappear down the chute. Each time they reached the bottom, they jumped up and down, “Hooray!  Hooray!” Their excitement was interrupted only when one of them looked up and sniffed the air. “Do you smell that delicious smell?” he asked his brother.

Inside, I tried my best to explain the menu. “What would you like to eat?” I asked.  They looked at each other nervously. The mother turned to me and said quietly, “Whatever you eat, we'll have one of those, too.”

“Four cheeseburger kompleksai'(combos), please.”       

The older brother carefully pulled one, two, three, four napkins out of the dispenser - then one, two, three, four straws.  The younger brother helped me carry the trays to the table.  I began eating before I realized that Mom was saying a prayer of thanks to God for “these beef steaks and these potatoes.”  I stopped chewing the french fry I already had in my mouth.

We chatted and ate.  I had almost finished my burger when I realized that none of them had opened the wrappers of theirs, but had only been eating their fries.  “May we bring these home?” asked the mother.  “Are you not hungry now?”  I asked.  “No, we'll eat our potatoes now, but we'll bring these home.”  Both brothers began gathering the empty paper french fry pockets and gently inserted the wrapped burgers into them. I went to the counter to ask for a bag. As I stood in line I saw the boys wiping out each of our four paper cups with a napkin and stacking them into one another. 

The younger brother folded up one of the paper placemats – now spotted with grease.  “You keep this one,” he said as he folded and handed it to me.  “You can give it to Hannah.”   I put the paper placemat in my pocket and swallowed hard.  As we left, both boys shook Ronald McDonald's plastic hand and said with a smile, “Thank you for the good potatoes!”

“God has given us a great day,” said their mother.  God had given us a great day.   And I'd almost missed it.