The One With the Stranded Stranger

My family had received a Christmas gift of $100 from an out-of-town pastor's wife, who was friends with my parents, and knew what it was like to be scraping by at Christmastime. The $100 was on the fridge, and no decision had yet been made on how it would be spent, but it was going to be something that the whole family could enjoy.

I remember this happening on Christmas morning, after opening presents, and before we had dinner, because Mom was working on food in the kitchen when Dad got the phone call. [My parents are welcome to correct any details, but I will tell you the version from my Christmas memories.]

At the time, our home phone was also the church phone line. We all answered it as, "Hosanna Calvary Chapel", and it was a normal thing for Dad to get important phone calls, during which we should be quiet, and if he wanted to speak privately, he would walk down the basement stairs with the long phone cord from near the back door. That Christmas morning, he got a call from a pastor in Maine, who told him that there was a man stranded in Illinois, not far outside of St. Louis, trying to get home to Maine, and needed money for gas and food. Would Dad be willing to give him money, and this pastor that Dad had never met would send him a check?

We had $100 on the fridge.

Dad got off the phone and called all of us together and told us the situation of the stranger who was stranded and trying to get home. He said that this $100 belonged to our whole family, and all of us had to make a decision together. He could take the man the money, and we would probably get it back in a few weeks, but there was the chance that we might not. What did we want to do?

We all quickly agreed that Dad should take the money to help the man. Mom made up a bunch of sandwiches, and Dad left to go help this stranger. Shortly afterwards, we were reimbursed the money, and I have no idea what it was spent on. But I do remember that as children, we were included in the decision, and given the opportunity to choose to make a sacrifice to help someone. My dad could have made the decision himself. He would have also not taken the money if we had not decided to help. My parents taught us a wonderful lesson about giving that day, which also embraces the very spirit of Christmas and everything that God has done for us, to sacrifice something of great worth, to save someone else.

Oh... but the story doesn't stop with my childhood memories...

Because years and years later, my dad was on a trip in Israel. The whole tour group was sitting around a table, and this story was being told. My dad told his side, including how blessed he was that his family wanted to minister. Then the pastor from Maine told his side, about what was happening in the stranded man's life, how he made it home, and how he's serving the Lord in the church. Then my Dad told the pastor from Maine that the only reason my family was able to help the stranded man was because of the $100 we had been given from the pastor's wife,... who was also sitting at their table.