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  1. #1



    My house is directly across the street from the clinic entrance of the John Hopkins Hospital in Melbourne . I live downstairs and rents the upstairs rooms to out-patients at the clinic.

    One summer evening as I was fixing dinner, there was a knock at the door. I opened to see a truly awful looking man. He's hardly taller than an eight-year-old child, as I stared at the stooped shrivelled body.
    But the most 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 'till 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 I'll find him a bed, but to rest on the porch. I went inside and finished getting dinner. When all's ready, I asked the old man if he would join me. "No thank you, I have plenty," as he held up a brown paper bag.

    When I had finished the dishes, I went out on the porch to talk with him for a few minutes. It didn't take long 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 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, I put a camp cot in the spare 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, "You made me feel at home. Some people are bothered by my face, but you don't seemed 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 bag of the largest oysters I had ever seen. He said he had cleaned them that morning before he left so that they'd be nice and fresh. I knew his bus left at 4 a.m. and wondered what time he had to get up in order to do this for me.

    In the years he came to stay overnight with me, there was never a time he did not bring fish or oysters or vegetables from his garden.

    Other times, I 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 my next door neighbour 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 I 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 I always will be grateful to have known him; from him I 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 he showed me his flowers, I 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 pots," he 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."

    He must've wondered why I laughed so delightfully, as I was imagining just such a scene in Heaven. There's a especially beautiful one,"God might've 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 men look at. Men look at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.'

    Real 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.

  2. #2
    Member Array
    Join Date
    Jul 2007
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    nice one...thankyou...take care....

  3. #3

  4. #4
    Member Array
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    Dec 2007
    well nowadays at home....
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    gr8 post aashi..................

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