THE OLD MAN AND THE ORANGE SLICES My father once owned a boarding house on Detroit’s East Side, which was later condemned. It had four apartments and a store front on the street level. In the store front was a vacuum repair shop occupied by Mr. Kelly A.K.A. “Old Man Kelly.” When we walked in to collect the rent, there sat Old Man Kelly in an oversized chair. It was oversize due to an oversized occupant who seldom left the chair. On one side was a spittoon which he used frequently during our visit (yuck). The chair was completely surrounded by vacuum cleaner parts. There were also piles of vacuum cleaners in the background waiting to be repaired. We had to walk through a haze of cigar smoke to get to Old Man Kelly. Needless to say it was not a pleasant experience, but he paid the rent faithfully. On the same side of the chair was an open brown bag. Before we left, Old Man Kelly reached into the bag and pulled out two candy orange slices and handed them to me. As soon as we got outside my father grabbed them from me and threw them into the street. My response, instant tears. I had already mentally tasted the orange slices. Later, he explained why he threw my orange slices in the street. First, they were right next to the spittoon and subject to over-spray. Second, my father knew his hands were unwashed by the grease on them. Finally, it was obvious the bag had been there for months if not years. At that time, I did not like what my father did. How could he deprive me, his son, of something I wanted so badly? Maybe, the same reason your heavenly Father doesnt let you have the orange slices you want so badly. Psalm 121:7, 8 The LORD will keep you from all harm— he will watch over your life; the LORD will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore. John P. DiMarzio 090814
Posted on: Mon, 08 Sep 2014 19:35:16 +0000