> > > The Rented Room > > > > > > > > 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 eight-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 five 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 > > prefaced 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 seven 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 three 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 illness' 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 I was visiting a friend who has a greenhouse, As she showed >me > > her flowers, we came to the most beautiful one of all, a golden > > crysanthemum, 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 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." > > (1Samuel 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.