Keep loving each other like family. Don’t neglect to open up your homes to guests, because by doing this some have been hosts to angels without knowing it. —Hebrews 13: 1-2
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Knock, knock, knock. I look through the front door window. On the porch stands a dirty, smelly man, tattered rags for clothes. His sock hat sits crooked on his head, and his socks show through the several worn holes of his shoes. “Mom, Emmanuel is here again,” I call down the hallway.
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My mom drops the laundry she was folding and comes to unlock the door. “Hello, Emmanuel. Come on in.” The homeless man steps in timidly.
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“Hey, Ben,” he says, removing his hat as he steps inside. I am surprised he remembers my name. I first met him three weeks ago when he came to our door begging for money, not knowing what sort of response he’d get.
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“Hi, Emmanuel,” I politely respond. I intuitively know Emmanuel is a kind, gentle, Christian man whose life simply fell apart. Mom invites him to sit at the table and goes to prepare our guest a meal.
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I deliver the glass of orange juice my mom pours. I sit in the chair across from Emmanuel while he recounts stories of his last several weeks of living on the streets. He has a hard life, especially in these winter months. “Too many of us on the streets and not enough folks like y’all offering kindness…” his voice trails off.
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Mom brings in a sandwich and soup for him. He eats it slowly, savoring each bite as if it might be his last for a while. Even at 7, I realize this may be the only meal he will eat for the next few days. My mother and I sit and talk with him.
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He thanks my mother for the meal, complimenting her cooking. She offers him a shower and some time to rest inside our warm house. “Oh, Ms. Hartman, I would much appreciate that.” Mom ushers him to the bathroom. When clean, he dresses in his clothes Mom washed for him. The three of us load into the car, and Mom drives us to the local public transit station. Emmanuel climbs out of the car, thanking my mom several times over.
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Mom offers Emmanuel some cash. “Oh thank you. God bless you all.” He closes the car door then climbs on the bus to pay his fare.
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This would not be the last time I would see Emmanuel. He visited our house on and off for a few years, as my parents exhibited the true Christian spirit of helping those in need. They recognized that many were less fortunate not because of their own fault but through unforeseen circumstances.
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Loving God, Open my eyes, that I may be an innkeeper that offers those in need shelter from the cold and storm. May I recognize my own blessings and pass them on to others. In Jesus Name, Amen.
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Ben Hartman