And now you know the rest of the story. ~ Paul Harvey
Everyone has a story to tell. While some may be more interesting than others, the fact of the matter is that we all have a story that is as unique as we are; our story is what makes us who we are, and it is what defines our morality, character, and integrity. Our story leaves a thumbprint on everyone we meet, either negatively or positively.
Mr. Riley was my best friend when I was five years old. At that time, I lived down a country lane in the tiny town of Keavy, Kentucky. My stepfather was in prison, and my mom had four children, so life was lived heavy on the lean side. We lived on public assistance, and there was no money. We had food, but there were many meals that consisted of potatoes or plain pasta, but it really didn’t matter to us. What did matter was that we had no candy to satisfy our sweet tooth. As a matter of a fact, I used to color the tops of saltine crackers for a treat; I swear it made them taste sweet! (The things we do when we are kids…) At any rate, it was at this point that we officially met Mr. Riley.
Mr. Riley was an elderly man who always wore red suspenders, had a droop to his shoulders and walked with a cane. One day, he stopped by our house to introduce himself, say, “Hello” and to drop off a whole bag of Dum-Dum suckers. Needless to say, Mr. Riley was awesome in my book! I took to walking down to Mr. Riley’s house almost every day; he always had time for me, and he always had some kind of treat to spoil me with. He let me play with all of his “junk” mail, we took walks together in his garden, and he read to me and told me stories. I loved Mr. Riley; but all too soon, my stepfather was released from prison and we moved. I was heartbroken because I thought I would never see Mr. Riley again.
About a year after we moved, I was walking to the mom and pop grocery store that was about a mile from our little two-room shack; I had to buy some diapers for the newest addition to our family. To my enormous surprise, there in that little store stood Mr. Riley! I hugged him as hard as I possibly could… I had missed my friend! We stood there and talked for a very long time, and when he left, he pulled his hanky out of his pocket to wipe the tears from his eyes. After he left, I noticed that the woman behind the register was crying, too. Turns out, she was Mr. Riley’s sister, and she told me his story.
Mr. Riley’s first name was Roland, and as a young man, he had struggled through school because of a learning disability – yet he worked hard and made it through college. After college, he settled into a career, married his sweetheart and had a young son. They all lived together in the very house that I used to frequent. Tragically, his wife and son died in an accident; Mr. Riley had been mourning them ever since. He had gone through a severe bout of depression for many years afterwards. But when he finally emerged from that dark time, he began to reach out to others, seeing needs and helping people in any way that he could through their difficult times. My family happened to be one of those.
It turns out that he had been buying food for us and leaving it on our doorstep. He had also left little trinkets for us when he could afford them. And, according to his sister, he had especially taken a shining to “that spunky little Angie”, and it broke his heart when we moved away. My daily visits had meant as much to him as it had meant to me.
Mr. Riley died not too long after I had seen him that day; I don’t know how he died, I just remember that it made me very sad. But it also made me happy because when Mr. Riley read to me, it was from an old book of Bible stories that now I am sure belonged to his little boy once upon a time. Mr. Riley was a Christian man, and he told me that one day he would go live in heaven because he had Jesus in his heart. Now I know that when he died, he was reunited with his family, which had to be the best thing that had happened to him in many, many years.
Mr. Riley’s story could have been a very sad tale; instead, it was one of victory. He could have wasted the rest of his life wallowing in his misery, but he chose to use his story to help improve the stories of those around him. He is an excellent example of the man found in James 3:13, “Who is wise and understanding among you? Let him show it by his good life, by deeds done in the humility that comes from wisdom.” I am a better person today because of the influence Mr. Riley had in my life, no matter how brief it was. My story has become, in some ways, a homage to him and all of the other “Mr. Rileys” who have touched my life.
What will your story be? It all starts with, “Once upon a time…”; Don’t let it end there.
Catch you on the flip side!
Ang
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