Godfrie

Bowing heavily under its burden the shopping cart faithfully edged forward. Loaded past the maximum weight or caring capacity, this was no small task for the poor inanimate creature. The cart's tenacious master was not as cruel as might be pictured, but was certainly not in any better condition then the cart itself. Face: engulfed in hair, clothes: laden with dirt and water, and the body oder was the closest one could get to experiencing a life-altering stench. In no terms was this man capable of being described as normal, and so all thought who met him.

Whatever the case may have been regarding his apperance or the apperance of his belongings, the most intriging part of it all was that they were now plodding ever so confidently down the driveway, aimed directly for the house. 

The Brousson family is a second family to me. Not to long ago, I spent the weekend with them. Sleeping in, eating, driving around, shopping, laughing, and talking, we had so much fun. However, the highlight of the weekend came on an early Sabbath morning. 

Dad Brousson had found the man while taking an early morning walk. After much pursuasion the man consented to come in the house. Clothes soaked more then not, told the story of a long night under the cover of a merciless rainstorm. The outer garments were removed and placed by the fire while the man was escorted to the nearest availible shower. New clothes were put on his back, and he was seated to enjoy a hearty and healthy breakfast. Godfrie was his name. A very nice man, yet sadly sticken with an inebt handle of life. (Undoubtibly, the indirect result of the pension the Canadian government gave him.) 

The chatter that filled the room slowed as the food was cleared off the table. Then one who I look up to as an angelic image of excellence, my sister Becky, entered. She sweetly offered to alleviate the poor man of what could have been mistaken as the talons of an exotic scavenger fowl. He must have broken his fingernail trimmers a while back. I couldn't blame him since he had moved about ten times and covered hundreds of miles, on foot, all in the past month. As Becky bent over, somehow enduring the stench that had escaped the horrors of the recent shower, I thought of Christ. Bent over washing scum. 

Humiliating. 

Me and Joel slipped outside. The brisk morning air took my breath away, or what I had left of it. The trailer was hitched to the pickup and on it, we loaded the man's cart: pepsi cans, bottles, junk and all. A tarp covered it from the view of all who might pass. We climed into the veichile, Dad went in the back with Godfrie. Becky masked the air in the front with her exquisite perfume, thus allowing me and my dear driver, Joel, to breathe. 

Headed to church, we left Godfrie at the local bottle return venue along with extra cash for the immediate acquisition of a haircut.

The road to church was a blur as I contemplated, "what had just happened?" 

I had seen Christ. In Becky, in dad, and also in Godfrie, God was there. That morning knocked me in the head and created within me a deeper understanding of who God really is. 

He may have not appeared normal, but Godfrie was God's method of saying to me, "I am to you as much as you respect the least of my children." A Child of God. Godfrie? Yes! And so am I! Of course Godfrie is not normal, he is beyond that - a child of my Creator. 

Awesome!

"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.'" Matthew 25:40

Joel Becki Me Godfrie