Monday’s Portrait: Portrait of a Stranger

I just returned from a four day trip to Cincinatti, Ohio with my eight year old daughter.  Our reason for taking the trip was to visit some old friends of mine from Italy who are here in the United States seeking medical treatment for their six-year old son.  While in Cincinatti, they are staying at the Ronald McDonald House.  They are well taken care of by the volunteers at the McDonald House, and by the nurses, doctors, social workers and translators at the hospital.  But they don’t know anyone in Ohio, and don’t speak any English, so I took my daughter with me to spend some time with them, and to give them what moral support I could.

A few days before I was scheduled to leave for Ohio, I received a phone call from a woman in Cincinatti.  Her name was Lisa.  She had taken my friends under her wing, picking them up at the airport when they arrived, visiting them in the hospital, arranging trips to the Cincinatti Zoo for them, and bringing them to her home for dinner and respite.  She knew their case worker at the hospital, was working with the Italian Embassy in Detroit on some problems they were having with their paperwork, and knew every detail of their son’s medical history and current treatment.  The reason she called me was to invite my daughter and I to stay with her and her family in their home during our visit to Cincinatti.  I accepted her invitation.

During our time with Lisa and her family, my daughter and I were given soft beds to sleep in and warm breakfasts made from scratch.  Lisa’s nine and eleven year old daughters immediately adopted my daughter as a special friend.  They pushed two twin beds together so she could “sleepover” with them.  They shared silly stories with her and taught her how to play badminton.  “Mom,” my daugther said to me, “They are so nice.  And they never fight.”

I was equally impressed.  Every night the family invited us to join them for family prayer.  They played games together, happily drawing us in to share in the fun.   Lisa’s home was spotless, even while taking classes at a nearby university and baking chocolate chip cookies for her daughter’s soccer team, which she helped coach.  One night I asked if I could help do the dishes and she cheerfully replied, “dishes are no big deal.”

This was a family that had made service a fundamental part of their lives.  They did it naturally, cheerfully, and tirelessly.  Over and over during my time with them I thought of this passage from the 25th chapter of the gospel of Matthew. 

Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kindgdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world:

For I was an hungred and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in:

Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink?  When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee?

And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.

My daughter and I were complete strangers to Lisa and her family.  Our Italian friends were strangers to them as well.  But that didn’t matter.  She took all of us in, fed us and cared for us.  I remain so touched and grateful for all that she did and is doing for me and for my friends.  I know I’ll never be able to pay her back, but I do hope that the next time I have the opportunity to help a stranger, I will remember her example and do my best to clothe, feed, and care.

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