. Tall and scraggly and un-kept in appearance, riding his bike down the street. Who was this strange man? Certainly no one I wanted anything to do with or have my children even come near! As a newcomer to Newberry, I had every intention of finding out who this man was andwhy he was allowed to “roam” the streets of this quaint town. I was appalled that this “type person” evenlived in a small rural town like Newberry. Oh yes, I did question a few “hometown folks” and found out, at least his name. One Sunday afternoon, my husband and I were riding through town and there he was still dirty looking, hair that appeared not to have ever seen a brush or comb, sitting on his old bike at the stop light. “Who is that homeless street person?” I asked my husband in a very disgusting tone of voice. I don't remember much about the rest of that Sunday afternoon drive, but I do remember my husband's answer. My husband always knew how to handle this old gal's...uhhh “attitude problem.” He took a deep breath, turned to me as he lifted his hand in a friendly wave to this “yucky” creature on a bike and told me the story.

Through the years, I would constantly see him--always on his bike or walking, always being careful, always so un-kept looking. Then one Sunday morning, I opened the door to my church-there he stood in the vestibule. In total amazement, I noticed his mismatched clothing, worn out shoes and uncombed hair. I stood frozen in my tracks for what seemed to be an eternity. Now, what was this Sunday School teacher suppose to do? Great, I now stood face-to-face with my greatest nightmare that strange man, smelly, dirty, un-kept. If ever a Sunday needed to be a “sick day,” well this was it. Oh, I remembered what my husband had told me but somehow, it just seemed to be a story to “appease” me at the time. I took a very deep breath, knowing that the preacher and a few members were watching my every move. I felt my legs begin to slowly move toward this man I felt the corners of my mouth begin to turn upward in a smile then I heard my voice say, “Hi, how are you? We are so glad you are here today. My name is Diane Madray.” Did I just lie in church, what was I saying? Suddenly, I felt the softness of his hand touch mine.

Did I really reach out to this “thing” for a handshake? Looking down, I realized he had reached for my outstretched hand of welcoming friendship. I found myself looking up into soft eyes, filled with gentleness. I heard his tender voice thank me for my warm welcome. I fought to hold back the tears of guilt that blinded me.

I heard not one word of the morning's sermon. I only looked at the back of his un-kept head and felt the heaviness in my heart. I prayed harder than I ever had before asking God to please forgive me in some small way for having been so judgmental, so blind, so uncaring in my thoughts and my actions. Who was I to teach a Sunday School class on love-when I had acted so un-Christ like? I realize now, that you, my wandering friend, taught me the greatest lesson, you taught me to look into the heart and soul of those around me-not at the dirty, worn out shoes. You taught me for the first time in my life, the real meaning of “never judge a book by its cover.”

Many people looked at him through eyes of disgust, wrongly judging, wishes of his not “embarrassing” the community, being mentally challenged, someone to “stay away” from. Unfortunately I understood these feelings. Until that fateful Sunday morning, I too had had the same feelings. Through the years, our paths met many times, he never forgot my name or my face. A few days ago, God called my wandering friend home-and he left with more knowledge than I could ever hope or dream to have. He was, in fact, a genius, gifted beyond the average person's comprehension. Today, I have that unwavering faith, that constant smile, that spirit of life because of him and his ability to climb mountains I will never face, and to do it with grace, softness and tenderness. He taught me perseverance in the midst of great storms. Jesus spoke the words ”Judge not, lest ye be judged.” But you taught me what these words truly meant. One day, God will call me home, and I look forward to being greeted by your outstretched hand, to look up into your soft eyes and hear once again your tender voice.

See ya later, Zip and thanks for teaching me the true meaning of acceptance, of difference, the awesome power of prayer, and the assurance that God forgives and stands firmly by us in all weather conditions.

Diane Madray

Newberry