Sunday, August 26, 2018

To Live in a House By the Side of the Road and Be a Friend to Man

Two weeks ago I went to visit my parents, along with my three siblings, and we celebrated their 50th anniversary, just the six of us, together. It was a sweet, blessed time. Fifty years of trials and togetherness is a real accomplishment in these days of disposable commitments, and several people in recent days have told me they look to my parents in their age and their happiness together and see their love for one another as a shining example of "the way things can be." I couldn't agree more.

While I was home, my dad introduced me to a poem called "The House By the Side of the Road."  My dad was telling a story about a neighbor of his, Bishop Cleve Bodily, who had come to my younger sister's rescue one day when her truck caught on fire on the way to high school in front of Bishop Bodily's house. He came running out with a fire extinguisher to help my sister and helped her get the problem under control. My sister then caught a ride to school in a passing car. But Bishop Bodily wasn't through helping. By the end of the school day, he had replaced the hose (it was really a radiator problem, not an actual fire, as it appeared). He then brought the truck to the school for her and left the keys in the office.

My dad said, "I shared this poem with the people of Bishop Bodily's ward because I knew this was the type of man he was."

As I heard the poem, I realized, this is the type of man my dad was--always. Moreover, it's the type of person, at my core, that I long to be, even though I'm weak and self-absorbed, and often too "busy" to be aware of the needs of people around me. At least I know what I long to be.

Last weekend, we went to a wedding reception for the daughter of some friends who I think embody this poem. Do you have someone you know who is like this? Whose self-effacing service blesses all who meet them?


"He was a friend to man, and lived
In a house by the side of the road."
-- Homer

There are hermit souls that live withdrawn
In the place of their self-content;
There are souls like stars, that dwell apart,
In a fellowless firmament;
There are pioneer souls that blaze their paths
Where highways never ran-
But let me live by the side of the road
And be a friend to man. -

Let me live in a house by the side of the road,
Where the race of men go by-
The men who are good and the men who are bad,
As good and as bad as I.
I would not sit in the scorner's seat,
Or hurl the cynic's ban-
Let me live in a house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man. -

I see from my house by the side of the road,
By the side of the highway of life,
The men who press with the ardor of hope,
The men who are faint with the strife.
But I turn not away from their smiles nor their tears,
Both parts of an infinite plan-
Let me live in a house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.

I know there are brook-gladdened meadows ahead
And mountains of wearisome height;
That the road passes on through the long afternoon
And stretches away to the night.
But still I rejoice when the travelers rejoice.
And weep with the strangers that moan,
Nor live in my house by the side of the road
Like a man who dwells alone. -

Let me live in my house by the side of the road-
It's here the race of men go by.
They are good, they are bad, they are weak, they are strong,
Wise, foolish- so am I;
Then why should I sit in the scorner's seat,
Or hurl the cynic's ban?
Let me live in my house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.

What if we were all like this? Noticing others' needs? How much more of a connected, blessed state of being! Think of the Savior, whose life was spent in being good, and in touching the lives with whom he interacted. All who met Him were touched and blessed and uplifted.

I heard my uncle say once, "We all have a sphere of influence. The older I get I realize how small mine is, but how vital my role is within that sphere." If we're on the house by the side of the road, ready to receive those who pass our way, we're ready to embrace others into our sphere, even if it's for a short time.

I hope I can be your friend if you're passing by my house.


2 comments:

  1. Nice post, Jennifer. Thanks for sharing this poem. Your dad sounds like a great guy. Reminds me of my dad. :)

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    Replies
    1. Thanks for reading it, Stephanie. I think you'd like my dad. :) I wish you could meet him. I'm sure he'd like you.

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