THE BEGGAR AND THE GARAGE SALE BIBLE As he walked down the street with craggy face and long dirty hair, he shuffled slowly along, you could tell he was going nowhere. No one knew his name, no one seemed to care. His torn and ragged sweater from the Salvation Army, his ill fitting shoes from God knows where. And then he spotted a garage sale sign and thought he would go in. At least it would get him out of the weather and give him a break from the wind. He looked at all the warm clothes, like a kid in a candy store And then he spotted a dust-covered book, in a box on the floor. How much is that? He asked with his face all aglow Fifty cents said the Lady, hoping he would take it and go. It is just an old Bible my grandfather once had But the pages are all worn and tattered, and the cover is stained pretty bad. The old man took the Bible and, clutching it to his chest, Shuffled off to see if he could find some place to rest. And in a dark corner, of an old building, where he would often hover He painfully sat down and brushed the dust from the cover On the first page it read The family Bible of Bill and Mary Spate Given on their wedding day in the year of 1858. Many dates and times were recorded, many births and deaths and weddings too. All so very important, all forgotten, except by a few. He read the old Bible hour after hour and remembered the stories his mother used to tell. His skid row buddies were happy, for they knew that he was not well. Each day he grew weaker, but still he read. And then late one night his friends heard him whisper the last words he would ever say, Thank you Father, for letting me go to that garage sale one week ago today. They found him dead, clutching his Bible; his work on earth was done, And when they looked at the passage he was reading, they found underlined: For God so l.
Posted on: Thu, 04 Dec 2014 06:11:36 +0000