The Hobo, A True Story

BY CAROLE NICHOLS


He appeared on the doorsteps one autumn day,
Just passing through, he said, on the way
To a place in the distance that seemed to be calling
At a time when all the leaves were falling.
He had a battered old hat he held in his hand,
When he spoke his voice was like gritty sand;
At the door of the back porch he stood,
And humbly offered to work for some food.

We peeked from mom's apron as she stood at the door,
We'd never seen anyone like him before.
Thin and ragged, with a grey bearded face,
A stranger in town, from some other place.
Mom reached up and locked the screen,
Something else we'd never before seen;
She said, "There's nothing here for you to do,
But if you sit on the steps, I'll fix breakfast for you."


He thanked her kindly, and she bustled us away,
Inside the kitchen where she told us to stay.
We watched her as she prepared a big plate
From the leftover food, for we had just ate.
She emptied the eggs, and there were quite a few,
Added grits and ham, and a bisquit or two.
She poured up some coffee, put it all on a tray,
Sacked up some bananas and apples for him on his way.


We followed like puppies as she carried her load,
So curious about this strange man from the road.
He ate like a man who had long been without,
With his finger, he cleaned his breakfast plate out.
With each swipe and lick, we could hear his sighs,
When he stood to depart, there were tears in his eyes.
And then to my mother, he gave a smile,
Said the food was the best he'd had in a while;


We watched as he walked into the day, alone,
Then we turned to our mother, once he was gone.
We asked her why she did this for a stranger,
When she'd always cautioned us about the danger;
She smiled and told of a time, long ago,
When angels of heaven approached Abraham so;
Though he knew them not, he didn't turn them away,
And what did we know, but this man just may


Have been sent to us, sort of as a test,
To see if we'd feed him and give him a rest.
And we wondered why she didn't let us talk,
If an angel he was, even if he did walk,
And why in the world did she lock him out,
If it was an angel's business he was about.
She came to her knees so that she was eye level,
And it was then we learned about the devil;


How once he was one of God's angels, too;
And he disguises himself just like angels do.
So it's with kindness, but caution, you greet an unknown,
It's a lesson I follow, now that I'm grown.
You can't ignore someone who has needs,
But take care till you know if he's flowers or weeds.