“May God hold you in the palm of his hand.”
“Uncle” Larry McElroy, a lay missionary working with the Oblates shares his experience of serving the poor and street people in Hong Kong.
As a “card-carrying Catholic” for many years, I was exposed to a myriad of written ejaculations, holy cards, cute little religious ditties, one of which was a phrase within a hymn and on a card, stating, “May God hold you in the palm of his hand.” 
“Uncle” Larry
Like most of the other phrases, it has been a good prompt for reflection….even a bit cute, catchy, when one thinks about it…….but like so many of these things, still sort of remote, with God way, way up there and I way, way down here, so to speak. But, ah, God is steadily working.
As a lay person, I am teaching English at Notre Dame College, a secondary school in Kowloon, Hong Kong, which also serves as an active parish. Every Friday night, Fr. Kalisz Slawek, the pastor, and Peter Liu, the parish accountant, and Theresa, a teacher, venture out among the homeless, accompanied by a group of students, ranging in ages from l3 to l9. Sometimes there are six, sometimes twice that, carrying bags of fruit, sometimes, sheets and blankets, sometimes money for showers: whatever the parishioners donate.
For the last two weeks I have accompanied this group, and I remember wondering where we were going, across an avenue, down several streets, past a plethora of shops, stalls, news stands, traversing more streets …..wondering , “What would I say….would they recoil if I touched them; would I recoil if they touched me?” We crossed a street …..and there they were: two elderly-looking folks, shriveled, stooped, almost toothless, obviously slapped in the face by life… sitting upon their respective benches beneath a viaduct. 
Young people from Notre Dame Parish
We were warmly greeted by two folks who were more than familiar with the routine. They graciously accepted our gifts, and in turn they gave us their friendship. I was introduced, the lady complimented me on my large shoulders (I was told what she said; the point was she made me feel at home). At different moments each took my hand, grabbed it and shook my arms up and down. I took their hands–withered, brownish with age spots, almost claw-like….yet so warm, so accepting, so delicate, like a lily at Easter.Young people from Notre Dame Parish
We preceded on down the street, along a quiet, shaded park. Crossing a narrow street we approached the second spot beneath the viaduct. Here were two souls, younger, apparently less physically damaged, but obviously just as poor and homeless. Like the other place, they were a man and a woman; they were resting on cots, greeting us in the same manner; with the same degree of graciousness and appreciation, making me feel at home, joking with the students.
The second week the same scenario occurred. Only this time, the folks made certain that I knew that they remembered me. I felt the same degree of warmth. Their hands felt so pliant and comforting. Upon reflection, one can spend his life within a cathedral…..or take a walk near a park……..and he may discover that God truly holds him within the palm of His hand.