The House on the Side of the Road

Many years ago when we first lived here so far out in the boondocks we found a cross stitched sampler in an antique store that said " Let me live in a house by the side of the road and be a friend to man." We bought it and installed it in front of the toilet in the powder room, where it has been ever since throughout many new themes and coats of paint. I thought about this old beloved piece today. Out of the corner of my eye I saw from my studio window an unusual sight. Here came a young man on a loaded bicycle, pedaling like mad from the farm track to the north. He stopped at the cattle gap and went across it. I went out to greet him as he threw the bike down near our front door. Clearly, he was in trouble. Reminded me of the many lost hunting dogs that find their way here, knowing we will return them to where they are supposed to be. It turned out that this young man had been lost in the woods for four days, and somehow found his way to our doorstep. We stuck out our hands (Tracy and Molly). "Come in for breakfast" was the first thing I said. It never occurred to me then to be suspicious. Obviously, he was not packing an assault rifle. O.K. The bathroom is that way, and then come and sit down and I will feed you. I stirred up four eggs, ten sausages, four English muffins, strong hot coffee, orange juice, no questions asked. (Are you vegan,vegetarian, gluten free?) This guy would have eaten the wallpaper, and a traditional huge breakfast was just right. I asked him if he had celebrated Christmas and he was somewhat noncommittal. His mother had dropped him off with his canoe and bike at the state park up the road. As he ate everything on the plate he politely told us of his adventure on the river. There was some weird stuff, such as was why did he not have a better grip on the geography of where he was, how could he have gone out on a four day trip without any food? Or a compass? How could he have portaged his canoe and the bike? (This would have killed me!) But, still, here was this friend to man, needing sustenance, and here we were by the side of the road, extending friendship. We learned little about him as he ate steadily. I could see that his arms were very strong and he told us that he took no food on his trip because he expected to forage for food. He was not a hunter, but he wanted to fish for food. He did eat some fungus from trees but was sickened by it because he had not boiled it. The recent frost killed so many green plants he was unable to find much to eat. I wanted to ask him botany questions about food foraging, but he was clearly focusing on the breakfast. We did find out that he was unemployed, laid off as a tech trouble shooter, went to college, lives with his mom, has a girl friend,not a hunter, loves nature. He was very polite and I could see that he was exhausted from the four days he spent lost in the Green Swamp.I wondered what his back story is.. He only told us about adopting a baby fox and how great it was. I guess I should have been more cautious, more suspicious. I should have examined his voluminous bike packs for assault weapons or hand guns. But, trusting person as I am, I did not. I invited him in. (And I do this with the lost dogs, too!) After breakfast and many thanks, we hoisted his bike into the truck and dropped him off in town. We exchanged phone numbers and expect he'll be back to collect his canoe on the bank of the river. When he said, "How can I repay you?", we only told him to pay it forward to the next time. He got it. These funny and strange encounters with our fellow man give me hope to think that we all Americans, weird as we all are, can welcome each other and still trust. Tears still spring from my eyes when I think about the carnage in Newtown. Those survivor kids will have a long way to go before they trust again. But it can happen. We must make it happen. Wishing you all a New Year of peace and love.