MountainWings:Sunday - The Rented Room

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-------------------------------------------------MountainWings A MountainWings Moment#3030 Wings Over The Mountains of Life-------------------------------------------------The Rented Room================Our house was directly across the street from the clinicentrance of s Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore. We liveddownstairs and rented the upstairs rooms to outpatients at theclinic.One summer evening as I was fixing supper, there was a knock atthe

door. I opened it to see a truly awful looking man."Why, he's hardly taller than my eight-year-old," I thought as Istared at the stooped, shriveled body. But the appalling thingwas his face, lopsided from swelling, red and raw.Yet his voice was pleasant as he said, "Good evening. I've cometo see if you've a room for just one night. I came for atreatment this morning from the eastern shore, and there's nobus 'til morning."He told me he'd been hunting for a room since noon but with nosuccess, 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 moretreatments..."For a moment I hesitated, but his next words convinced me,"I could sleep in this rocking chair on the porch. My busleaves 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 talkwith him a few minutes. It didn't take a long time to see thatthis old man had an oversized heart crowded into that tiny body.He told me he fished for a living to support his daughter, herfive children, and her husband, who was hopelessly crippled froma back injury.He didn't tell it by way of complaint; in fact, every othersentence was prefaced with a thanks to God for a blessing.He was grateful that no pain accompanied his disease, which wasapparently a form of skin cancer. He thanked God for giving himthe 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 foldedand 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 atreatment? I won't put you out a bit. I can sleep fine in achair." He paused a moment and then added, "Your children mademe feel at home. Grownups are bothered by my face, but childrendon'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 themorning. As a gift, he brought a big fish and a quart of thelargest oysters I had ever seen. He said he had shucked themthat 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 hehad to get up in order to do this for us.In the years he came to stay overnight with us, there was nevera time that he did not bring us fish or oysters or

vegetablesfrom his garden.Other times we received packages in the mail, always by specialdelivery; fish and oysters packed in a box of fresh youngspinach or kale, every leaf carefully washed.Knowing that he must walk three miles to mail these and knowinghow little money he had made the gifts doubly precious.When I received these little remembrances, I often thought of acomment our next-door neighbor made after he left that firstmorning. "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 theycould have known him, perhaps their illness would have beeneasier to bear. I know our family will always be grateful tohave known him; from him we learned what it was to accept thebad 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 oneof all, a golden chrysanthemum bursting with blooms.But to my great surprise, it was growing in an old dented, rustybucket. I thought to myself, "If this were my plant, I'd put itin the loveliest container I had!"My friend changed my mind. "I ran short of pots," sheexplained, "and knowing how beautiful this one would be,I thought it wouldn't mind starting out in this old pail. It'sjust 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 whenhe 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

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