Strangers Along the Way

"Do not forget to entertain strangers, for along the way some have entertained angels without knowing it. (Hebrews 13:2)"

From the Weird Wanderings of Dan Phillips

For several years I have come to work by going off of I-65 at I-440, then getting off the West End Exit. I had a special route from I-440 to Centennial. Each day I would turn left at McDonald’s and come through Centennial Park. Some days I would park my car and even walk for a mile and look at Centennial Medical Center and pray for the people here.

My favorite thing through was the Parthenon. Many mornings when it was dark the Parthenon was lit up like a magnificent cathedral. The colors were so inspiring that I would sometimes just stop and look at it. It was beautiful, the highlight of the journey to work.

THEN, the powers that be, messed up I-440 at West End to improve the exit. The result was often a wait of many minutes to get off the exit, so I began a search for a new route to work.

Finally, I began following I-64, to I-40 west, then exiting at the Church Street exit. I was surprised to discover that it was a half of mile less to work and I didn’t have to put up with exiting at a place where I had to wait. It took a while, but I have gotten use to the journey.

CREATURES OF HABIT

During the last year and a half I became intrigued with the people I encountered on my journey to work. This goes back a long way, but when I was an engineer working on the space program, one of my fellow engineers told me that everyday at 2:10 p.m. a car passed in front of our building with a chicken on top of it. I thought he was crazy! But then I began checking on the chicken and sure enough, everyday at the same time, the car with the chicken came by. That made me realize that all of us have habits that we don’t realize.

So, with habits in mind, I checked to see the habits of the people I passed on my way to work. One in particular caught my attention. A man every morning would be out in front of his office with a huge power blower cleaning off the driveway of his establishment. Like clockwork, he was always there. It was sort of fun—with my chicken mentality—to see him getting the office ready. Some Monday’s he was not there, and some days my passing was later or earlier, and I did not see him.

I also checked out his truck. It was always parked a certain way with his mirror aligned with the overhang in front of his office. I sort of got excited last summer when he bought a new truck. I thought, he must be doing pretty well in his business to be able to afford a new truck. And sometimes I would pass and he would not be there and I would say a prayer for him.

One thing I always thought was, if I ever am able to retire, the last day I work I am going to stop and tell him, you have meant a lot to me in the last few years. Your diligence in cleaning the sidewalk has been an encouragement on my way to work EVERYDAY.

Several weeks ago, during the first of December, I noted the truck began to be absent. Every morning I would come by and NO TRUCK, then I noticed no people seemed to be around. When January hit and still no truck, I really got worried. I thought, my imaginary friend has hit some financial difficulties and has had to close his business. Every morning as I passed there was a sadness. He was not there.

I even copied the website address still on the building and thought I might “google it,” in hopes of discovering more, but I thought, "oh no, it probably will not be there because he is out of business."

For weeks, passing this point on the journey, has brought sadness.

This morning, January 20, 2005, I noticed the truck once more in front of the establishment and I saw the man go in the door. He didn’t have the blower and just seemed to struggle getting through the door. I thought, "I bet he is getting a few things left over after closing his business."

Then, I thought. If he is going out of business I better say goodbye. I may never see him again. So I made a quick right turn into a rather oblivious place by his truck, got out of my car, and followed him in the door. I introduced myself. I said, "I’m sorry to bother you, but I am a Chaplain at Centennial Medical Center and every morning for the last several months I have watched you clean the sidewalk and that has always been a blessing to me on my drive to work. And for several weeks I have not seen you and I have been worried about you. Is everything ok?"

He looked at me kinda funny (who is this idiot I bet he thought), then his eyes seemed to glaze over a bit, and he said, "I just had to put my Mom in a nursing home this week. She is 89. A tough old bird. But I have been taking care of her."

"Well, that explains it,"I said. "I’m glad your back because you made my journey easier everyday and I have always appreciated how clean you have kept your drive way." He sort of smiled and said, "its too cold to go outside now with the blower."

So I started to leave. I found out his name was Jim. He lives in Dickson. His Mom is not doing well. I assured him of my prayers and told him that I was glad he was back and that someday, when I retire, I will stop and see him again.

I know this is sort of rambling, but maybe all of us need to look for chickens and power blowers and tan trucks along the journey. Maybe an angel is hidden somewhere or maybe a blessing we have missed.

Are there people that bless your life and you have never told them? You think about that !!!!