One Man's Trash......

  My house was a disaster like every other day. Trying to keep up with a job, a husband, 5 kids, and 3 dogs can be exhausting, so the house is often in disarray.  From the first step into the front hallway, through the dining room, kitchen, and all the way to the living room there was stuff. Little stuff. Big stuff. Kid stuff. Toys. Clothes. Dirt. Backpacks. Books. Shoes.
  A knock at the door produced 2 kids (brother and sister) from up the street wanting to come in. I immediately said "No". I didn't want anyone seeing what a mess my house was. It was trashed. I had nothing to offer these kids and was annoyed that they had just shown up on my doorstep.
  My 8 year old knew them from school and helped them explain to me that they were supposed to ride a different bus to their grandma's house, but the school sent them home on their normal bus. There was nobody home. Their mom was at the Emergency Room with their baby brother. They were 8 and 9 years old..
   It was really cold outside, and I couldn't stand the thought of them being stuck out in the cold for however long it took for their mom to return. So I stepped back and let them in. As they entered my house, I caught my breath at the smell coming from them. We called their mom to assure her that they were safe and that they could hang out until she could get them. I fed them some stale chips...the only snack food that we had in the house. I gave them some fruit punch. They sat in the living room and watched cartoons until an older sibling stopped by to get them.
   The next day my daughter caught me off guard by blurting out that those kids kept telling her how nice our house is. I was a little bewildered. After all, my opinion of my house was that it was a hot mess and an embarrassment. My daughter went on to say that they told her that they liked the chips and drinks I gave them. You see, they didn't have running water in their house, so they couldn't make fruit punch. They didn't have snacks at their house, and they didn't get to watch cartoons there either. The little girl had admitted to my daughter that she didn't like wearing mismatched clothes, but she had to wear whatever she could find that was clean. She also wished she could take a shower sometimes.
   I felt humbled and convicted. I hadn't wanted to let them in because I was afraid that what I had to offer wasn't good enough, but what I had viewed as "trashed".....they dream of having.