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 Had
a call from Joe Johnson — a “brother in need,” he said.
Said he was a member of the church in Alabama but was on his way
to see his sick mother in Louisiana. Said he had a job waiting
for him when he got there but he had had car trouble, and was
out of gasoline. Said he had been in the hospital himself, and
———...
“Whoa!
Hold on! Wait up!” I broke in. I’ve heard that one before.
Where are you Harry?”
“Harry??
This is Joe Johnson, bro. Turner. I won’t need very much. Just
some gasoline, and some food for my hungry children, and a
little money to get me on to Louisiana, and ———”
“Yeah,
Yeah! Well, you come on out to the house Harry, and we’ll see
if we can help you;” and I hung up.
When
I heard a tap at the door I called, “come in Har——” and
the door opened — and in walked a stranger. Said his name was
Joe Johnson.
I
called Alabama. Yes, Joe was a member there — fine fellow —
heard he was on a trip to see his sick mother — somewhere in
Louisiana. Poor fellow had
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had hard luck lately… I just couldn’t
believe it, so I called Louisiana. The small town Operator told
me there was a Johnson listing, but that Mrs. Johnson was in the
hospital —— very ill. She understood the son was on his way
to see his mother —— said he was going to work for a
contractor while there.
So,
I felt very ashamed of myself for being such a doubter. After
all, there could be a Joe Johnson in need of assistance.
Brethren do have sick mothers, and some must operate on such a
small margin that a little bad luck could produce want. And Joe
did seem so ashamed to have to ask for my help. Even his
explanation for going from Alabama to Louisiana via Texas made
some sense. And he promised to pay me back as soon as he got to
his work. Of course I told him I wouldn’t think of taking the
money.
Why
must we always think the worst of people? Love thinketh no evil
— believeth all things. Why can’t we learn to trust our
fellow-man? Must we be so affected by the hardness and
materialism about us that we become calloused to a genuine cry
for help?
I
was reaching for my wallet when Vivian awoke me, calling
breakfast.
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