Lady and the Ramp



There was a knock at the door. Before I could answer, I found a woman of bohemian appearance, standing in the foyer.  She had dreadlocks and carried a lot of bags. She greeted me and then asked if this were a place that cared for animals.  “I saw a cat outside and the wheel chair ramp” she said, “so, I figured this is a place that takes care of animals.” I found myself  thinking, certainly, that makes perfect sense. A cat and a handicap ramp, why wouldn’t someone come to the conclusion it’s a place for disabled felines and other furry creatures (cats in wheel chairs at the very least).

I explained to her that this is our home.  I told her, that,  despite what it looks like, it is not a facility for crippled cats or any other kind of challenged animals. She apologized profusely as she tip toed backwards, out the door, repeating in a whisper, “Sorry, sorry sorry”. Our 23 year old son, Sonty,  just looked at me and said,  “Do you think maybe we should keep our doors locked?”  “Perhaps we should,” I replied, “but if we do that, we might miss out on entertaining angels unawares.” (Hebrews 13:2).

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