Our
house was directly across the street from the clinic entrance
of
Johns
Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore. We lived downstairs and rented
the
upstairs rooms
to out-patients at the clinic.
One
summer evening as I was fixing supper, there was a knock at
the
door. I
opened it to see a truly awful looking man. "Why, he's
hardly
taller
than my 8-year-old," I thought as I stared at the
stooped,
shriveled body. But the appalling thing was his face,
lopsided from
swelling, red and
raw.
Yet his
voice was pleasant as he said, "Good evening. I've come to
see
if
you've a room for just one night. I came for a treatment this
morning
from
the eastern shore, and there's no bus 'til
morning."
He told
me he'd been hunting for a room since noon but with no
success,
no one
seemed to have a room. "I guess it's my face .... I know it
looks
terrible, but my doctor says with a few more treatments
.."
For a
moment I hesitated, but his next words convinced me: "I
could
sleep
in this rocking chair on the porch. My bus leaves early in
the
morning."
I told
him we would find him a bed, but to rest on the porch.. I
went
inside
and finished getting supper. When we were ready, I asked the
old
man if
he would join us. "No, thank you. I have plenty." And he held
up
a brown
paper
bag.
When I
had finished the dishes, I went out on the porch to talk with
him
a few
minutes. It didn't take a long time to see that this old man
had
an
oversized heart crowded into that tiny body. He told me he
fished for
a
living to support his daughter, her 5 children, and her husband,
who
was
hopelessly crippled from a back
injury.
He
didn't tell it by way of complaint; in fact, every other
sentence was
preface
with a thanks to God for a blessing. He was grateful that
no
pain
accompanied his disease, which was apparently a form of
skin
cancer.
He thanked God for giving him the strength to keep
going...
At
bedtime, we put a camp cot in the children's room for him. When
I got
up in
the morning, the bed linens were neatly folded and the little
man
was out
on the
porch.
He
refused breakfast, but just before he left for his bus,
haltingly, as
if
asking a great favor, he said, "Could I please come back and
stay the
next
time I have a treatment? I won't put you out a bit. I can
sleep
fine in
a chair." He paused a moment and then added, "Your children
made
me feel
at home. Grownups are bothered by my face, but children
don't
seem to
mind."
I told
him he was welcome to come
again.
And, on
his next trip, he arrived a little after 7 in the morning. As
a
gift,
he brought a big fish and a quart of the largest oysters I
had
ever
seen! He said he had shucked them that morning before he left
so
that
they'd be nice and fresh. I knew his bus left at 4:00 a.m. And
I
wondered what time he had to get up in order to do this
for
us.
In the
years he came to stay overnight with us, there was never a
time
that he
did not bring us fish or oysters or vegetables from his
garden.
Other
times we received packages in the mail, always by
special
delivery; fish and oysters packed in a box of fresh young
spinach or
kale,
every leaf carefully washed. Knowing that he must walk 3 miles
to
mail
these, and knowing how little money he had made the gifts
doubly
precious.
When I
received these little remembrances, I often thought of a
comment
our
next-door neighbor made after he left that first
morning.
"Did
you keep that awful looking man last night? I turned him away!
You
can
lose roomers by putting up such
people!"
Maybe
we did lose roomers once or twice. But, oh!, if only they
could
have
known him, perhaps their illnesses would have been easier to
bear.
I know
our family always will be grateful to have known him; from him
we
learned
what it was to accept the bad without complaint and the
good
with gratitude
to God.
Recently while visiting a friend, who has a greenhouse,
as she showed me
her
flowers, we came to the most beautiful one of all, a
golden
chrysanthemum, bursting with blooms. But to my great
surprise, it was
growing
in an old dented, rusty bucket. I thought to myself,
"If this were my plant, I'd put it in
the loveliest container I
had!"
My
friend changed my mind. "I ran short of flower pots," she
explained, "and
knowing
how beautiful this one would be, I thought it wouldn't
mind
starting out in this old pail. It's just for a little
while, till I can
put it
out in the
garden."
She
must have wondered why I laughed so delightedly, but I was
imagining
just
such a scene in
heaven.
"Here's
an especially beautiful one," God might have said when he
came
to the
soul of the sweet old fisherman. "He won't mind starting in
this
small
body."
All
this happened long ago - and now, in God's garden, how tall
this
lovely
soul must
stand.
The
LORD does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at
the
outward
appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart." (1 Samuel
16:7b)
Friends
are very special. They make you smile and encourage you
to
succeed. They lend an ear and they share a word of
praise.
Show your friends how much you care.
Pass this on, and brighten
someone's day.
The only thing that will happen if
you DO pass it on is that
someone might
smile
(because of
you).
From an
old rusty bucket - Have a wonderful
day!!!!.
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