I was a stranger...

They arrived late, nearly nine o’clock at night, two strangers who were spending the night with us. They were participants in Dianne’s soul collage card workshop who needed a place to stay since the farmhouse was not available. I teased them as they came in and took their shoes off at the door... “You must have grown up on a farm and been raised right,” I said. Jay smiled as she handed me two bottles of wine as a hostess present. “I was raised on a farm in Vermont and loved it.”
The next morning we ate fresh eggs and sausage for breakfast before the farm tour. Michael tucked them in the Kubota and drove to the Sound of Music Hill to feed the cows. The girls got “slobbered” as they fed the cows bread and a good time was had by all. Feeding the horses, donkeys and chickens was the icing on the cake for them. They came in giggling and happy, ready for the day.
After the workshop, they came back up the hill to gather their things together to leave. As she hugged me, I saw a flash of sadness cross Jay’s face and I wondered... Michael and I stood and waved good by to them, telling them to be careful, come back, we loved having you visit. They drove off on their way back to their lives in another city.
Later I asked Dianne about Jay and the sadness I saw in her face. She is a successful business woman who owns several businesses with her husband. When you first meet her, her bubbly laugh is the first thing you notice about her and yet... Dianne told me she is struggling with caring for her parents, one of them an addict. This farm has become a place of solace for her, a shelter in a time of storm. She will be back for another workshop and a time of healing, no longer a stranger but one who belongs to us.
One of my friends asked if it was scary having complete strangers in our house. I hadn’t even thought of it that way. They had a need I could meet, it was helpful for my friend Dianne with her workshop, and I enjoy having our house full of people. Michael’s dad loved to recite a poem about a man readying his house for a visit from the Master, Jesus. In the busyness of getting ready, he turned away people who came to his door with needs. At the end of the day when the Master had not come, he was confronted with the reality of having turned Jesus away in the form of every person who had come to his door that day.
My house wasn’t spotless but they did have clean sheets and towels. The food was plain, not fancy. The fire was warm, our welcome was genuine and the words by our front door spoke for us. “Let the guest sojourning here know that in this home our life is simple. What we cannot afford, we do not offer, but what good cheer we can give, we give gladly...So while you tarry here with us we would have thee enjoy the blessings of a home, health, love and freedom, and we pray that thou mayst find the final blessing of life... peace.”
I was a stranger and you took me in...