sam

Some years ago my pastor called.

He was planning on a baptism in the middle of the week, and would I (as head deacon) get the baptistry prepared and be there at the baptism.

He explained that the man who was being baptized was extremely shy and very self conscious. He wanted no one to be there except the three of us.

Just before the ceremony the pastor explains that Sam has spots on the back of his hand that has lost pigment, big white splashes on his tanned skin, and that he was very self conscious about it. I shoved out my hand: “Like this?” “Yea, just like that.”

So Sam was baptized. He came up out of the baptistry and I shook his hand, showed him mine, and said; “Sam, we are really brothers now, even our hands are alike.”

We have been good friends every since.

Earlier this week Sam called me. It was fairly early in the morning. “Dave” he said, “could you come down to the hospital, and help me with some matters.”

I did not know he was in the hospital, but he had been there for 5 days. He had not told me, unassuming as he is. The hospital is about 3 or 4 minutes away, so it was not an imposition at all.

He explained that he wanted me to go his apartment, get some cash he had there, deposit some of it in his bank account and bring the rest to him. Easy enough.

An hour later they discharged Sam from the hospital. I went back at the assigned time and took him to a friend’s house, where he was staying. The friend is out of town for a few days and Sam is looking after things, and recovering.

Tonight he called again. He cannot drive yet. He needed a ride. We went to the pharmacy, turned in a prescription, then to the drive in window at KFC to get him a big bucket of chicken.

Ten pieces, he said would last him until his friend comes home in a few days. He thinks he can drive tomorrow.

I reminded him that he can call me any time if he needs help. “I know that and I really appreciate it.”

He is just a couple years older than I am, but he has had a rougher life. His wife of 50 years died just before I met him. He has children and grandchildren, but does not seem to have too much interplay with them. In the days before he “found the Lord” he may well have not been a perfect father.

Sam is a genuine good guy. He worked very hard and low wages, saw to it that his kids were better educated, and now in retirement, his resources are few.

He does not complain. When I ask him why he works so hard to help others, he just points up: “It’s for Him.”

I am privileged to be his friend.