“Shine, mister?” beamed Chico as he stopped in front of the businessman with scuffy-looking shoes who was absorbed in reading a newspaper. The cabin of the Staten Island ferry was crowded this cold morning. A sharp wind kept most of the rush-hour passengers from strolling on the open decks during the 20-minute ride to downtown New York.
“Why not?” answered the businessman. He placed his right shoe on Chico’s shoeshine box and went back to reading his paper.
Chico worked quickly and whistled a happy tune as his brush and rag kept time to his music.
“What are you so happy about?” grumbled the businessman.
Chico flashed a broad, toothy smile and tapped the businessman’s left foot to indicate he was ready for the other shoe. While the businessman changed shoes on the shine box, Chico prayed for courage to speak a word for his Saviour.
“Mister, you’d be happy too if you knew Jesus as your Saviour. A few months ago I was headed for real trouble. I was runnin’ around with a gang that was stealin’ and fightin’ most of the time. My mom was at work all day, my dad’s in jail, and my grandma’s almost blind, so I came and went as I pleased. One day some of us went into a storefront meetin’ to make trouble. We started cursin’ as loud as we could, but the preacher just asked everyone to sing a hymn, ‘Christ is the Saviour of sinners.’
“As they sang, my buddies all left. Somehow I felt glued to my seat. Every time they sang the part,
Saviour of sinners
Saviour of sinners like me,
Shedding His blood for my ransom,
This is the Saviour for me.
I felt something inside that wanted to know more about this Saviour. I sat through the whole meetin’, and at the end I just sat there with my head down, wishin’ for all the world I could say He was my Saviour. I guess the preacher saw me, because he came and put his hand on my shoulder and asked me if I wanted to have peace and joy and know for sure that my sins were forgiven. I said, ‘You bet I do!’
“Well, mister,” Chico continued as he put the finishing touches to the second shoe, “that preacher explained it all to me, and I got down on my knees and accepted Jesus as my Saviour . . . and I’ve had a heart full of joy and peace ever since then. My old gang thinks I’m nuts, but they know somethin’ has happened to me. And it can happen to you too, mister, if you’ll accept Jesus as your Saviour.
“That’ll be $1.50,” he said, tapping the businessman’s foot to indicate the shine was finished.
“Here, keep the change,” said the businessman, handing Chico a couple of dollars. He tucked his paper under his arm, picked up his briefcase and headed out to the windswept deck as Chico moved to his next customer.
Here we must leave the businessman with his thoughts and alone with God. But what about you? Do you know Chico’s Saviour?
ML-06/05/1994