A Lesson From Sarah

Just as I was getting the bacon frying and the pancake batter stirred up for yesterday's dinner, there was a knock on my front door.  Considering where I live, this is an unusual occurrence.  Standing on my front porch was a tattoo-covered, rough-looking young man.  Okay, I'll be real and just say it:  This guy looked like complete trash.  Standing behind him on the walkway was an equally rough-looking young lady (holding a shotgun) and two filthy, snotty-nosed little kids.  They'd broken down a few miles up the logging road, he said, and needed a place to wait for a ride. With slight hesitation (Bill wasn't home from work yet), I invited them in.  The man asked if he could use our wi-fi to e-mail his mother.  I asked if he wouldn't rather call her and he said that he couldn't because her phone (they live with her) had been turned off.  I'll be real with y'all and tell you that, once again, I was thinking to myself how trashy these people were.  In the hour or so that they were in my house, the little girl pooped and the mom had no diaper to change her with (who travels with little kids without, at least, a diaper), the little boy pooped in my bathroom and neither flushed the toilet or washed his hands (who lets a child explore in a stranger's house alone?), the kids ran wild through the house, pulling toys out of every closet they could find (never once an offer to help tidy up their children's mess), and the parents just sat on the sofa doing nothing.  As it was dinner time, I asked if they would like to eat with us and they said the kids would probably be hungry.  So Bill and I fed them.  Like served their food, cut their food, made them stay sitting at the table, and then wiped them up when they were finished.  The parents just sat there.

By now, I'm pridefully thinking to myself how kind my family has been by offering hospitality to these "lesser" folks.  In fact, I think there was probably a feeling of superiority, if truth be told.  Was I just being helpful to these people because it made me feel good?  Would I mock them and their life after they left my house.  I'm embarrassed to say that the answer is yes.  And then, I was smacked back to reality.

Last year, there was a terrible, well-publicised tragedy in this area.  Suffice it to say that what happened is every parent's worst nightmare.  Well, THIS was the family who experienced that accident.  Sitting on my sofa, their remaining little kids running through my house, this was that family.  Yikes.  All of those self-righteous feelings I had ran screaming out my front door.  In their place came true feelings of hospitality.  This was a sorrowful, broken family who just needed a soft place to rest.  A little bit of understanding and help.  Some kindness.  I pray we gave them a little.  Not for our own sake, but to ease their sadness and obvious burdens in life.

And Sarah's part in this?  I glanced over at her and she was sitting on a chair with the little girl (who was 2), rubbing her head and hugging her, saying, "Oh, you are just so special.  You are my new friend.  I'm so glad you came."  Gulp.  While I saw a dirty, wayward little urchin, Sarah saw a dear child who deserved to be loved, despite her obvious shortcomings.

Perspective.  That's what I got a good dose of last night.  While I sit in my tidy little cottage, fridge full of food, kids all healthy and living, and life filled with abundant blessings, there are so many others who are experiencing loss, and death, and sickness, and sadness.  So I ask you, what can we do about it?

Hey, but on a brighter note, want to see some pictures of yesterday?

My sweet, new Danskos.  Waxed canvas so they're waterproof.