Hi Everyone,

I'm glad you all appreciated the post.  Nice to hear from you all.

Blessings,
Sherri


On 2/5/07, juana <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote:
>
> wow what a tear jerker thank u
> join my group at:
> [EMAIL PROTECTED]
>
> juana aka speedie/wildcat2003
> Love is a thing whitch should be treasured with the heart and not with the
> body.
> ----- Original Message -----
> From: "Sherri Crum" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
> To: <[email protected]>
> Sent: Monday, February 05, 2007 2:00 PM
> Subject: [RecipesAndMore] The Old Fisherman
>
>
> >
> > the old fisherman
> >
> > 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 '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 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 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 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
> > 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," 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. There'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."
> >
> > Sherri
> >
> > >
> >
>
>
>
> >
>

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