PART 1.
Many years ago there lived a man who traveled about the countryside. He was a Peddler, and made his living selling merchandise to local villages. As time went on, he realized that he must expand his customer base, or go out of business.
The Peddler was taken aback. No one had ever asked such a question.
"I am not a religious man," he stammered, "but I believe there is good in all of us, regardless of how we find it."
The man shook his head and with a sly smile closed the door. His last words, as the door was closing, chilled the already cold and frightened Peddler to the bone.
Many years ago there lived a man who traveled about the countryside. He was a Peddler, and made his living selling merchandise to local villages. As time went on, he realized that he must expand his customer base, or go out of business.
This worried him, for it meant conducting trade with people he did not know, and who did not know him. Nonetheless he set out, planning to call on towns and villages that were beyond his normal territory.
However, as fate would have it, he ran into immediate bad luck. As he approached the first village, a great storm erupted. Wind, rain and lightning made travel most difficult. Even worse, he carried his wares upon his back, for he could not afford a pack animal.
As he approached the first home, he thought to himself, " I just need shelter, and will ask no more." The Peddler arrived at the front door of a small , but well maintained cottage. Shivering, he knocked feebly on the front door. After a few moments it opened and a stout and formidable looking man of no more than thirty years, answered.
"What do you want?", asked the figure in the doorway.
" Kind sir," replied the Peddler, "I seek shelter from the storm. I am new to this Township, but hope to find new friends and customers from the good people who live here."
The Man frowned slightly, and with a sneer asked; "Do you accept Jesus as you lord and Savior?"
The Peddler was taken aback. No one had ever asked such a question.
"I am not a religious man," he stammered, "but I believe there is good in all of us, regardless of how we find it."
The man shook his head and with a sly smile closed the door. His last words, as the door was closing, chilled the already cold and frightened Peddler to the bone.
''We don't want your type around, you are godless."
End of PT 1.
The Peddler was left standing at the front door as the rain continued to come down.
"I don't understand," he thought as he walked to the next cottage. "I have never harmed this man, why would he turn me away?"
Unfortunately, it was only the beginning. Despite the storm, the Peddler was denied sanctuary time and time again.
In each case he was asked if he accepted Jesus as his savior. Being a man of principle, he told the truth. "I respect what you believe," he would say, "but I am a man who has not studied such things. I only seek refuge from the storm."
This honesty only seemed to doom the Peddler, for he reached the last cottage in despair. He thought, "If they do not offer me shelter, where am I to go?"
As he approached the front door his heart sank. The dwelling was small, compared to the others in the village. Further, it had seen better days, for it was in a general state of disrepair. In addition, the garden surrounding the cottage looked not to have been tended or cared for in quite some time. The Peddler, however, was desperate. He arrived at the front door, and with a heavy sigh, began to knock in earnest. After a few moments the door started to open slowly...
PT 3.
As the door opened, the Peddler began to shake. "This is my last chance", he thought, "I will say anything, for I cannot go on."
To his relief the figure in the doorway soon presented itself. A small woman, perhaps half his size, looked up at him. The Peddler was taken aback. His possible benefactor was advanced in age and seemed to be on the edge of physical collapse.
The Peddler collected his wits, and with a sense of desperation began to speak. "Good woman," he began, "I have traveled far, but I am in need of the hospitality of a person like you who would not turn away one in need." The Peddler braced himself for the expected interrogation, but it did not come.
"You poor man," was the reply, "come in and warm yourself by my humble fire. I cannot offer much, but what I have is yours." With that the woman turned and gestured for the Peddler to follow.
The Peddler entered, following the small figure. The room he beheld was even more Spartan than he had imagined. Very few pieces of furniture were present, and he watched as his host sat herself upon a rocking chair located near a large brick fireplace. The fireplace seemed to dominate the room, for it provided the only illumination. The Peddler sat down upon a small ottoman and rubbed his hands together.
Confused by this sudden change of fortune, he stammered, "I have no wish to cause you harm, but your neighbors rejected me because I am not a Christian. Why do you offer me aid. Will they not turn against you?"
The old woman began to laugh, and with a sigh turned to the peddler and replied:"Stranger, you are new to this place. It was not always so, at one time all were welcome. Unfortunately, the leaders of our community became convinced of their importance, which included controlling the spiritual life of all its' citizens. This control would not tolerate dissension, so all those who opposed were either ostracized or banished. They use Christianity as a tool to justify their personal prejudices. In this manner, they subvert the true teachings of our lord."
(Look for PT.4)
PT 4.
Being a simple man with no illusions, I tried to grasp the meaning of what was being said. "Good Woman," I asked in earnest, "Why would your neighbors condemn honest people who act with great Charity, even though they are not Christian?"
My host stared into the fire and shuddered. "It is well that you came upon me," she answered, "for you can leave this accursed township with your head held high. Those who govern this community rule by fear."
I stood up, and rubbing my hands together, approached the fireplace. However, I still had questions.
"You are a woman in torment," I declared, "however, you seem to hold fast that Christianity is a system of belief that will not exploit others. Why do you remain among those who proclaim Christian beliefs, but who violate the essential tenets set forth in scripture?"
My host stood up from her position by the fire and very slowly came over to me. She stood before me and with moistening eyes said, "They are not evil, but have lost their way. If our savior sacrificed everything to redeem humanity, do I not have an obligation to continue his work? Maybe the Adults will always hate, but the children need to see that there is a choice, and I will not forsake them."
The next day I left. However, I provided my benefactor with a quantity of worldly goods free of charge. I may be a great trader, but she is dealing in higher stakes.
God help us all if she, and others like her, fail.
THE END.
