A Strangers Guest
It was in the early days of mobile telephones, when my husband and I were newlyweds. We had just moved into our new home, and the flats there were magnificent the kind that made you gasp in admiration. We were quite pleased with everything, except for our neighbours on the landing, who were far from amiable. Though I was still young, I carried myself with the severity of someone in a position of responsibility and was used to being treated with respect. My husband, in jest, would address me formally, calling me by both my first and last name.
One morning I stepped out of our flat and encountered our new neighbour. She didnt greet me, not even a simple hello or goodbye passed her lips. So I made up my mind not to greet her either! I became resolute and rather prickly.
Our housewarming soon arrived we invited friends and relatives to celebrate this happy occasion. The revelry stretched on a bit longer than perhaps was proper. The neighbour was at our door before long, and when I answered, he curtly told me it was getting far too late! Can you imagine? He was telling ME! On a Saturday night, just half past eleven! The nerve! He even blamed it on his wife: Shes got a terrible headache and really must rest!
From then on, I refused to look in their direction, even if we found ourselves entering or leaving the shared entrance together. My husband, of course, kept greeting them, but I, out of principle, would not. They needed to learn how to treat respectable people! I was proud and unyielding.
For quite some time, we didnt cross paths at all. Then one blustery winters evening, as we returned home, we saw a young woman standing outside the shared entrance. She beamed with relief when she spotted us: Im your neighbours sister. Ive travelled a long way and have been waiting for them for three hours now. May I wait in the lobby? Its dreadfully cold out here! Indeed, the snowstorm outside was fierce, trees bowing in the wind. We let her in. In my best schoolmistress voice, I asked, Youre not from around here? And wheres your luggage? She explained that shed left her bags at the left luggage office, hoping her brother-in-law would help fetch them in the morning. It was far too heavy to drag along in this weather, she said.
Back in our flat, I pondered, If theyve neglected their own relative arriving in such weather, perhaps she isnt their sister at all. Maybe some trickster, and weve foolishly let her in. Suspicious and stubborn, as ever.
We sat down to supper, but I couldnt settle, with that poor soul waiting outside our door. I peered through the spyhole; she was still there, pressed against the cold wall. My husband called me to the table, but I couldnt take a bite. All I did was think about our strange guest. My husband suggested inviting her to join us at table. Why on earth should we invite a complete stranger into our home? I rejoined indignantly, but I did push a chair and blanket out for her in the lobby. I demanded, Why didnt your sister come to collect you? She replied easily, I wanted to surprise her shes due to give birth soon, and the pregnancys been so difficult. I came to help, to lend a hand with the baby. I listened, still doubtful. Pregnant? I hadnt noticed.
Every five minutes, I checked the door. The woman sat quietly, waiting as patiently as ever. My husband was soon fast asleep, but not I! Her tired face kept appearing in my mind I knew how much effort it took to get to this part of town, especially in such weather. She must have been utterly exhausted.
It was almost midnight when I glanced at the clock. Suddenly, I leapt out of bed, threw on my dressing gown, and stormed out into the lobby. Right! Thats it. Youre spending the night in our flat. She was surprised and grateful, a bit embarrassed, trying to decline, but I was firm. I gave her a dressing gown, a towel, and sent her to the bathroom. When she returned, I made her eat something warm and got the guest room ready for her, wishing her a peaceful night. I was caring, after all.
I scribbled a note to our neighbours: Your sister is staying with us. Please do not disturb before 6:00 am.
At eight oclock the next morning, the bell rang. I opened the door to find our neighbour, radiant with joy. It turned out his wife had given birth that snowy night to a boy! You understand, dont you? A son! We have a son! His happiness was infectious, and I felt that joy blossom within me as if it were my own. It was a marvellous feeling something bright and momentous had taken place.
Before long, mother and baby were home. Our neighbour beamed with gratitude for having sheltered her younger sister that night.
Sometimes, we convince ourselves that we know everything about ourselves, about others. We criticise, quarrel, take petty stances, wage little wars. Then comes a moment when all that anger evaporates. And suddenly you realise that true living means keeping your heart open. For me, it was the strangers guest who helped me learn that.
