It all started before Christmas in 1972, when I was selling trees for my Kiwanis Club. All the members took turns working to sell the beautiful Oregon trees. We raised money to help children get presents who otherwise may not have had any at all. The weather felt like 25 degrees, and it was snowing like crazy. Our borrowed lot was between a small local bank and an all-night cafe on the main highway, Hwy 6, through town.
It was a few days before Christmas, and you questioned why anyone would be out on the roads, especially on a motorcycle. The wind howled through the café parking lot, carrying flurries of snow that stung your face if you dared to venture outside for more than a few seconds. Inside, the warmth of our hut was provided by an electric heater to combat the chill, and I found myself grateful for every degree the little heater could muster!
That’s when I hear a motorcycle pulling into the café’s parking lot. The rider was dressed in black leather and was loaded behind his seat like a traveling man. And he quickly disappeared into the café. I couldn’t get my mind off this guy on a bike in this blizzard— he had to be freezing. Time passed as I watched customers stream in and out, their faces flushed from the cold, some stopping by to chat about holiday plans or to share a cup of coffee.
At 10 o’clock, I was closing up shop for the night, and my biker had left the cafe to continue his trip. He looked to be around 25, a clean-cut, good-looking young man, with a trimmed beard. I approached him, stuck out my right hand as friendly Texans do, and said, “My name is Gary Griffin.” He quickly removed his glove and shook my hand, “Mike Walker is my name, from Ohio. Good to meet you.”
“Where are you headed?” His answer was, “On down the road.” Without thinking, my next question was, “Where do you plan on sleeping?” He answered, “Oh, I’ll find me a wooded area and use my hammock to catch a wink or two!”
So, I said, “Well, we’ve got an extra bedroom. You can come home with me and sleep in a warm bed.”
He looked at me for five seconds before he answered, “Well, if I’m not putting you out, I believe I’ll take you up on your offer.” I pointed to my auto and said, “Follow me.” I got in my car and started the motor to get the heater going…
My first thought was, “Are you crazy? You don’t know anything about this guy. What’s Jon (my wife) going to say? I answered my own question, … she would say, “ARE YOU CRAZY!!”
The headlights carved out a path through the darkness, illuminating the falling flakes. Thoughts of Jon’s reaction danced in my mind, but the warmth of the car and his reaction to me made the night feel less forbidding. When we finally arrived, I ushered him inside, out of the cold, and was grateful to offer shelter to a total stranger. My reaction was similar to that of the man in the scripture who stopped to help the man who had been beaten and robbed, but no one stopped to help him. (Luke10:33-37)
Jon got home right after we pulled into the garage. Wellsir, it wasn’t as bad as I had anticipated. I had already shown him his room and where his bathroom was. He joined us a few minutes later, all presentable.
She had made a big pot of her hearty stew in the slow cooker, nice and hot, and a large pan of cornbread. Our two boys were spending a few days with their grandparents. She had attended a leader’s Bible study meeting, preparing for the group study the next day, and was a little shocked to see a young, bearded man sitting in the den. I told her about meeting Mike at the Christmas tree lot and invited him to spend the night with us because of the bad weather. Jon greeted Mike with a warm, if somewhat surprised, smile as she set her Bible down. The scent of her stew filled the house, inviting comfort after a long, frigid day.
He explained he had finished his time in the Navy and wanted to see the U.S. before settling down in Ohio with his folks. He was coming across the southern part of the country to Florida, then back up to the east coast and across to Ohio. When he landed in California, he bought his motorcycle and equipment to see his dream come true, not realizing that this part of the country would experience a snowstorm!
Dinner was served. When I told him that we always said a blessing before the meal, I noticed a slight smile come across his face. He quickly bowed his head, and I prayed, thanking the Lord for our guest and his safety while traveling, and asked God to bless our food.
We ate our fill of stew and cornbread and spent the next hour or so in wonderful conversation. He told us his parents were farmers in Ohio. They grew corn, and his hobby was photography. He planned to attend college on the G.I. Bill.
Much of our conversation centered on the Bible. Mike commented on Jon coming in with a Bible in her hand, which led him sharing some great insights. Yes-sir-ree, this young man knew an awful lot about Heavenly matters…One example was us discussing the word “Hallelujah”. The term “hallelujah” is a transliteration of two Hebrew words: “hallelu,” meaning “praise,” and “Yah,” a shortened form of “Yahweh,” the personal name of God. He said this is what angels sang to the shepherds on Christmas night!
Despite Jon’s initial worries, the evening unfolded with surprising warmth and harmony. Our conversation drifted from lighthearted tales to deeper discussions about faith and purpose, drawing out stories and insights from each of us. Mike’s genuine curiosity and respect for our traditions seemed to put Jon at ease, and by the end of the night, it felt as though he had always been a part of our circle.
The following morning, the sun was out, and the storm had cleared. After a big breakfast, our unique guest said, “Goodbye, my friends, and may our Lord bless you!” And we waved to him as he turned the corner to go to the highway.
Two months later, we received a package in the mail. It was a framed 8x10 photo of a field of corn with a beautiful sunset in the background. After all these years, it still hangs on our wall. We call it our “angel picture.”
A few months later, Jon and I were studying the book of Hebrews in the New Testament and read this… “Don’t neglect to show hospitality, for by doing this, some have welcomed angels as guests without knowing it.” Hebrews 13:1-3. We looked at each other and talked about Mike.
Jon and I wish you “a time of hospitality with your angel!”
Ahhh, that was some day!
