Alien part 3

I met a man on the road one day. It was a bright day but there was a breeze that my Father had blessed me with. The man I met was old. Very old. His shoulders were stooped. His steps were a bit shuffled. His clothes were more worn than mine. As the man came upon me he said hello. I in turn nodded and continued on my way not really looking at him but he called me back. He asked if I was hungry. I said, yes. He asked if I was thirsty, I said yes. He beckoned me to follow him to a little wooden cottage, if you could call it that. It was tiny. But it was clean. There was one chair. A small kitchen and a pallet on the floor. He bid me to sit on his one chair. I sat.

He gave me water, I drank thirstily. He gave me bread and honey, I feasted on it. All this time I had not really looked at the old man's face. I took a break from chewing and looked at the huddled mass of worn cloth and curved shoulders. He smiled and asked if it was good. And I nodded my head as if in a daze. The old man was beautiful. Not in the way you think. But in ways infinetely better.

The corners of his eyes were so crinkled the skin overlapped a bit. I could tell he spent a lot of time laughing because the lines around his mouth curved upward. His eyes, O his eyes! The way they sparkled. It was like a light from within was trying to escape. His eyes were bursting with light. I felt myself wanting to capture it and put it in a jar so I too could have that light. His hands seemed rough. They were calloused. Hands that were never idle. Hands that helped, hands that healed, hands that were often lifted high with rejoicing. Oh yes, this man although poor, although obviously alone, rejoiced. And often.

The various valleys and hills on his face showed me he was old. It showed me he had spent many days out in the sun. It showed me he was beautiful, in ways I couldn't even descibed. It showed that he had traveled a long time with a man I knew. He had traveled with my Father. I thanked him for my sustenance and was on my way.