May this make you think,
Jen
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"Hello?" He called out into the darkness.
He heard something back in a language he didn't quite understand. The voice though, was undeniably female. "I'm sorry say that again."
He again heard the same words. Despite the cold January morning, and the freezing rain, he stepped out onto his lawn of ice. Turning in the dim, pre-dawn light, he saw a young woman, probably around his age, maybe a few years younger, and a small boy, two maybe three at most, huddled together.
Quickly, he ushered them inside. The lady tried talking to him, but the words still made no sense. "I'm sorry ma'am, but I can't understand you." He grabbed two cups from the cupboard and filled one with tea and the other with juice.
Now that he could properly see, the woman wore bedraggled clothes, and her hair was an absolute mess. She must have been outside for a long time. The woman mumbled something, most likely a thank you, and he nodded, smiling at her.
He didn't know why he had let her in. Nor why he had even woken up, but he had, and for some reason, he was grateful. And as the woman drank and became warm, he just stood there, wondering what God wanted him to do now. He had invited her in, but was absolutely clueless on what to do next.
Shifting, she turned to him and stated clearly, "Soy Ana."
Only now recognizing her accent as Spanish, he was suddenly grateful for that seal of biliteracy that hung on his parents' wall. "Hola Ana, ¿están bienes?"
Surprised, she shifted what he expected to be her son on her lap. And suddenly, tears poured down her face and she started mumbling and sobbing.
Not knowing what to do, and utterly clueless about anything to do with comforting someone, he simply smiled and said, "Hey, it's gonna be okay. You and your son are gonna be just fine."
She smiled back and spoke in heavily accented English, teeth no longer chattering. "Thank you sir, your kindness has been enough to see us through."
And he sat back, dumbfounded. What kindness? What kindness had he shown her? All he had done was take her inside and give her a cup of tea. And spoke a few words of her own language to her.
She turned to her son and said more to her child than the man sitting across from her, "God has seen us through, mijo. The Lord be praised we survived another night."
He smiled and led them to his guest bedroom. Shutting the door, he crawled back in bed. Hours later, he woke up to find the rain still pouring down. Walking into the kitchen, the events from last night finally sunk in.
What had he done? Invited a total stranger into his house, and allowed her and her son to stay the night! He was glad that nothing had been stolen. But as he knocked on her door, he saw the bed made, and the room cleaner than he had ever met.
And at the table lay a large breakfast with only a note "Thank you, sir. You have given us far more than we dreamed. Blessings, Ana."
He smiled. It wasn't until years later when he was walking into the supermarket that he saw someone familiar. "Sir?" He turned.
"Yes ma'am?"
"I just wanted to thank you, for that night. It gave me hope for a new life again. The Lord used you, sir, to save us." And with that, Ana walked away.
He never saw Ana again, but one thing was for certain: her words never left his mind. And every year, on that same day that he had met her, he would find a card on his doorstep, with a readymade breakfast. And he smiled, knowing exactly who made it. And it was his only way of knowing if she was okay.
Then one year, the card and food did not come. He had grown old and he truly didn't expect it with everything going up. But instead on that cold January morning, all there was was another note, not written by Ana, but by a man whom he guessed was her son, and it had the same two words on it. "Thank you." And the old man laughed, thinking 'Sometimes, maybe clueless is a good thing.' And as he passed away that night, he was truly at peace.
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