On a hot summer day, many years ago in my hometown of Massillon, Ohio, I was sitting with my mom in the kitchen. We were discussing something which I don’t recall, but I’m sure that whatever the subject was it was not important. During the conversation someone knocked at the kitchen door. I jumped up and walked over and peered through the screened door. Standing outside was a young man, dressed in a soldier’s uniform, clutching a bible. He looked up at me and nervously asked, “Is your mother home?”
I moved aside and my mother came to the door. She looked down at the young man and asked, “Can I help you, son?”
“Yes ma’am,” he said and continued with, “I was recently discharged from the Army. And I got this job selling family bibles and I was hoping that you’d need one for your family.”
Though my mom had a soft spot for the military, she didn’t have a lot of money. In fact, she had very little money and each penny she spent, had to be spent wisely. She smiled at the young man and said, “I’m sorry but I already have a family bible. I bought one a few years back.”
The young veteran didn’t press. He simply smiled and said, “I understand. Thank you ma’am for your time.” He turned and began to walk away.
I don’t know what it was about that young man, maybe the fact that he was a veteran, maybe because he was as thin as a rail, but he had taken no more than five steps away from my house, when my mom called out, “Young man, just a minute.”
He turned around and came back toward the door. “Yes ma’am?” he asked.
“I can’t buy a bible from you, but it looks as though you can use a good home-cooked meal. When’s the last time you ate?”
“I don’t remember Ma’am,” he said.
“Well, today, you’ll leave with a full belly, if you want. Come on in and sit down at the kitchen table and let me fix you something to eat.”
And with that, the ex-soldier came in the door and took a seat at the table; and my mom prepared him a home-cooked meal of chicken, biscuits, greens, and all sorts of other good foods. For nearly two hours, while my mother cooked, they talked about a wide array of current events – the Vietnam War, Dr. King, politics in general and of course, my mother’s favorite subject, religion.
Through it all he remained respectful and seemingly appreciative. After he had finished eating, my mom took a brown paper sack out of the cabinet, stuffed it with the left over fried chicken and handed it to him.
“Thank you, Ma’am, I appreciate what you done for me today,” he said and reached in his pocket and pulled out two crumpled dollar bills. He handed them to my mom.
My mom smiled and said, “I don’t want your money, son. Thank you for stop by today and spending time with us. I hope your life is full of happiness and blessings.”
“How can I ever repay you?” he asked, putting the money back in his pocket.
“One day you’ll be settled. You’ll have a house and a family. And there might be a knock on your door and behind it, some child who’s down on his luck. Help that child.”
“I will ma’am. I promise you, I will.”
We never saw the young man again. I’m confident though, that he went on to do great things in life. And I believe he lived a life of service and benevolence. My mom wasn’t a highly educated woman. She was an extremely hard worker, devout Christian, and loving mother. Her treasures in life came through her kindness and willingness to give to others. And while her life was always one of meager finances, she died extremely rich at heart through the lives of those she touched.
Just like that of the young Bible salesman.
