All Fine He Stood in the Airport
And so he stood all tall was he With shorts instead of britches.
His arms laid bare for all to see Not even a sleeve befell.
The hat, the hat protruded loud Topping off the look he sought.
Alone he was—on guard he was Not a one dare nigh approach.
I snapped the pic so quick a click To capture what I beheld.
Upon the plane we all did board As the snow blew past the door.
Behind me stood the hatted one With shorts and shirt proclaiming.
First twas strange as the stranger stood Until I broached the silence.
“So where do you go—dressed just so— So bravely barring all cares?”
He smiled a smile and gently spoke “South America, I go.”
“Where might that be?” Said I to he “I’ve been there a time or two.”
“Columbia” he said so bold As I replied “Paraguay.”
“Relatives live right there,” said he “But I have not ever been.”
And off he walked to find his seat— No longer stranger was he.
Reminds me of Bruce Barton’s words “Rough Diamonds” was the poem. “God sends great souls into the world Clothed in curious attire.
And one misses much good fellowship Who from what men seem to be— He can determine what they are.”
Heb. 13:2 “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing so some have entertained angels unaware.” Amen.
