THE OLD DENTED BUCKET

What a great story. Hope you enjoy it.

THE OLD DENTED BUCKET

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 8-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 'til 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 5 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 preface with a 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 7 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 4:00 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 3 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 illnesses 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.
"Here'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." (1 Samuel 16:7b)

Little Black Ants

I have this prickly pear cactus out in the yard that is being taken over by a black ant colony. When I go out there around sunrise the ants are scurrying around like madmen excavating the soil at the base of the cactus, climbing the wire mesh (who knows why?) that surrounds the plant for protection from hungry rabbits, and carrying things to and fro. In another part of the yard the ants can sometimes be found in one big writhing black mass devouring little field mice that somehow end up in their clutchs. I haven't figured out how the mice are meeting their demise yet but I'm very curious. Pick up one of these dead mice and before you can get it to the trash bin the ants have scurried up the stick and those little bastards have a bite on them that will get your attention! I've observed that when watering the cactus the water disappears quickly due to it's coarsing down the tunnels at the base of the plant. Flooding of the colony each and every day do the ants move on to a more suitable location... hell no, they just haul their dead comrades outta the flooded tunnels and put them in piles topside. There are a lot of ants in Apache Junction.

Cyrus was having a little stand off with this snake
before I walked up and got the snake all nervous!

Bailey the Cat

Two weeks ago my li'l pal Bailey's life was cut short by a car when she darted into the street, she was 7 months old. She was adventurous, fearless, and endlessly entertaining. She chased thrown rocks and followed me everywhere I walked. In five short months she planted herself deep in my heart. I'll always remember her. Go with God li'l Bailey, go towards the light.

The Mighty French War Machine

Here's a copy of an email I received today, it was titled "The Mighty French War Machine":

Q. What do you call 100,000 Frenchmen with their hands up?
A. The Army.

"I would rather have a German division in front of me than a French one behind me." —General George S. Patton

"Going to war without France is like going deer hunting without your accordion." —Norman Schwartzkopf

"You know, the French remind me a little bit of an aging actress of the 1940s who was still trying to dine out on her looks but doesn't have the face for it." —John McCain, U.S. Senator from Arizona

"We can stand here like the French, or we can do something about it." —Marge Simpson

"As far as I'm concerned, war always means failure." —Jacques Chirac, President of France

"As far as France is concerned, you're right." —Rush Limbaugh

"The only time France wants us to go to war is when the German Army is sitting in Paris sipping coffee." —Regis Philbin

"The French are a smallish, monkey-looking bunch and not dressed any better, on average, than the citizens of Baltimore. True, you can sit outside in Paris and drink little cups of coffee, but why this is more stylish than sitting inside and drinking large glasses of whiskey I don't know." —P.J O'Rourke (1989)

"They've taken their own precautions against Al Qaeda. To prepare for an attack, each Frenchman is urged to keep duct tape, a white flag, and a three-day supply of mistresses in the house." —Argus Hamilton

"The only way the French are going in is if we tell them we found truffles in Iraq." —Dennis Miller

"I would call the French scumbags, but that, of course, would be a disservice to bags filled with scum. I say we invade Iraq, then invade Chirac." —Dennis Miller

"You know why the French don't want to bomb Saddam Hussein? Because he hates America, he loves mistresses and wears a beret. He IS French, people." —Conan O'Brien

"I don't know why people are surprised that France won't help us get Saddam out of Iraq. After all, France wouldn't help us get the Germans out of France!" —Jay Leno

"The last time the French asked for 'more proof,' it came marching into Paris under a German flag." —David Letterman

An old saying: Raise your right hand if you like the French... Raise both hands if you are French.

Q: How many Frenchmen does it take to change a light bulb?
A: One. He holds the bulb and all of Europe revolves around him.

Q. Why do we need France on our side against Saddam and Osama?
A: So the French can show them how to surrender.

Q: How many Frenchmen does it take to defend Paris?
A: Nobody knows, it's never been tried.

Q. Why don't they have fireworks at Euro Disney?
A. Because every time they shoot them off, the French try to surrender.

Q. Why did the French plant trees along the Champs Elysees?
A. So the Germans could march in the shade.

Q: How many gears does a French tank have?
A: 4 reverse and 1 forward, in case the enemy attacks from the rear.

Q: How can you identify a French Infantryman?
A: Sunburned armpits.

Q: Anyone see the French Military Rifle on eBay?
A: It's never been shot and only dropped once!

Fourth of July

Started yesterday morning cooking pancakes at the church 4th of July picnic. They had a barbershop quartet singing the National Anthem and then a speaker who told the story of how Francis Scott Key came to pen the Star Spangled Banner during the War of 1812. Then it was time for a scrumptious breakfast of scambled eggs, sausage and pancakes. The morning was topped off with a squirt gun fight and a kid's parade in the parking lot. It was fun!



Finished off the day with steaks and salad, then watch the amazing $70k fireworks display put on by the City of Apache Junction, AZ.

Springtime Weather

It's a beautiful day here in Show Low, Arizona today. God's smiling down on us.