A Card On The Floor

I  met John Thomas Walker one hot summer day in his almost unlivable old camping trailer. There it was parked under a large oak tree filled with the hanging Spanish moss reaching toward its roof.

I knocked on the door and hear a smokers crusty voice call, ‘come on in.’  I opened the door to stare at an old man, unshaved, mostly undressed, stretched out on the often cigarette burned, stained couch.

I introduced myself as the pastor of the local Baptist church gave him my card and told him that I had been told that he was sick and might need some help.

He looked at me with unmoved eyes and an unfeeling expression. Throwing the card in the floor he said, “I know preacher boy you just came by to save my poor, dying, lost soul.  You ant the first and when you is gone some other would be do gooder will come by to feather his nest with the old rotten soul of John Thomas.”

I smiled and said, “No sir Mr. Walker I really did hear that you were sick and I came to see if I could take you to the doctor.” “Sure you did boy,” He responded, “Sure you did. I suppose you think John Thomas can’t get himself to the doctor.” The conservation continued like that for another ten minutes with me expressing a desire to take him to the doctor and his making fun of me. I finally said, “Mr. Walker I will be going now but I will come back tomorrow to see if you would like to go to see the doctor.”  “Yes, I know you will,” he answered, “Just like all them other better than me Baptist. Don’t bother boy, I ant going to be no feather in your nest.” I told him that I was leaving but would be back, he called back as I was shutting the door, “Ant you going to pray for my soul preacher boy, ant you going to pray?” I turned and said, “I have already done that Mr. Walker, I have already prayed for you.  But now I am more interested in taking you to the doctor.”  With that I left listing to him hollow at me, “Don’t waste your time praying for me and don’t waste them prayers of yours on my old soul.”

The next three days was a repeat of that first day.  Each time I would ask him to let me take him to the doctor and each time he would laugh and make some smart remark about my praying for him.

 (We will finish tomorrow)

Published in: on August 5, 2013 at 12:05 am  Comments (1)  

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One CommentLeave a comment

  1. Brother Ivan…waiting for the “rest of the story”!

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