Mom and Dad bought a new house in the 60's, and we moved in April first, after a looong visit with my Irish grandmother.Until then, it was her rules, her house. From that standpoint, life had been somewhat staid and sedate.We came home from work or school, ate dinner, listened to the radio or watched television, did homework,and went to bed. If a stranger came to the door, they were given whatever "Bama" deemed they were entitled to, and sent away.But once into our new house, everything changed.Allow me to digress for just a moment here, so that you understand what I mean by "stranger." We lived two blocks from a tavern that none of us ever went to.Upon occasion, a man, young or old, in his cups, would wander down the street, and would be met at the corner of our block by KING, our Collie.King was not given to boisterous displays of barked warnings on such occasions, but would fall into step behind the man, nose to heel, and accompany his every step down the block, past the house, and to the next corner. There, King would stand and watch the man go until, some certain invisible line was crossed, and King deemed him gone from his domain.Then he would quietly return home.We found this out on certain hot nights after lights out, when the family would be wakeful and look out screened windows at the goings on.Only once was this scenario changed, to my knowledge, and then the man was warned, deep and throatily,and with a show of fangs, not to pause at our home, but to continue on his way,which he did, with great haste...but that's another story.These men were not just strangers, they were drunks.Strangers are just people you don't know.One knows all one needs to know about a man when he comes to your door, drunk! By the time we moved away from there, King was gone, and Honey had taken his place.And the rules changed.At that time, there were no pictures of lost or runaway kids on milk cartons or in postal mailings.But we still knew, when one of those ragamuffins would come to the back door, and ask for a bite to eat, or a drink of water that such was the case.Mom and Dad always did so much more for those kids than we had ever seen done, that those incidents stick in my mind yet today.They would be asked in, found water or food, and invited to wash up and stay for dinner.Many took the drink and/or sandwich, and declined, and went on their way. But more happily, gratefully, accepted, and it was not uncommon to see them vastly improved, sitting down at the dinner table with us, bowing their heads in silence as Dad led us all in saying grace.If their attitude and demeanor was not so offensive that they were asked to leave our house by the end of the meal, One of my parents would then ask them if they had a place to stay for the night.Some did.They would mumble the name of a mission way downtown, rather shamefaced, and if that is where the boy wanted to go, Dad would drive them there,and save them the miles and miles walking, only to find themselves locked out for the night.But most, did not, and then it would be suggested that if the boy wasn't insulted at the invitation, he could stay the night with us. It may only be a sofa in the basement rec room, or on the living room couch with a pillow and a blanket, but it was clean, and warm and they would have clean pajamas to wear with a bathroom just down the hall,or a glass of water and a piece of fruit available to them in the kitchen overnight. We always left night-lights on in those areas, so that no one woke up in pitch blackness wondering where they were and get frightened, or confused and not be able to find their way around.Peculiar things happened on those nights we had guests.For one thing, I had never known Mother or Dad to be light sleepers, but many times, we would get up and Dad would already be in the kitchen, sometimes with our guest, sometimes alone,running his blood sugar, taking his insulin shot, eating and taking his other meds, with the radio on low, talking softly with the boy, or just reading his paper alone, and doing all the normal things.Sometimes,such as the week-end, it would be obvious that Dad had been up, and gone back to bed, and we would find our boy huddled under the baby grand piano in the living room, still sleeping,or back on the couch, with the drapes open, looking out the picture window at the woods across the street.You never knew where that kid might have migrated to, in the middle of the night.Sometimes we would get up, and find the bedding and the pajamas folded neatly on the couch, or a chair, with a hastily scrawled note of thanks, signed Mike or Harry or Fred or Rick, but that he had to go, to catch a bus going back home...and Dad would smile, and tuck that note into his pocket carefully, and the day would go on as normal, with hardly a word about our mysteriously departing guest.Except, he would be remembered in our blessing of our meals, and other family prayers, the rest of the day,for a safe trip home and other things. I always suspected, but never knew, that sometime during that visit, Dad would have a nice heart to heart talk with that boy, and that note just told him, he had done all the Lord would have him to do, to send him back to his home and family.
I often wonder, when I see those milk cartons and circulars now, how many families are brave enough, and caring enough to do what we did then,and, frankly, what I still do now.On occasion, Yon son will call, and say Mom, I just found a young couple with a baby, and they came over to me at the bus station, and asked how far to the nearest mission or shelter, and would so many dollars cover the trip...and can we put them up for the night? Once it was a family of five, who had a lay-over until noon the next day, and had no money, no food, and it was ten at night, and all the missions are locked up tight by then.I always let the Lord lead me in those situations, because I don't like to have people I can't trust in my house, but when He says yes...I never say No to God. The funny part is, as it was with my folks, so it is with me. We never have been ripped off, or endangered in any way when we have taken in those in need.We have only blessed, and been blessed.
OUI?
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