A Strangers Guest
It was the dawn of the mobile phone era, and my wife and I had just started our life together as a married couple. We had moved into a new homea lovely flat in a recently built estate. The layout was simply superb; every room just made us feel delighted. The only thing that didnt quite fit was the lot wed drawn in terms of neighbours. Even though I was young, Id always been a stickler for respect and manners, working in a position where I was well respected. My wife used to tease me, calling me by my first and middle name like she was addressing a headteacher.
One day, stepping out of our flat, I met our new neighbourpresumably the lady of the houseand not a word from her. No hello, no good morning, nothing. I thought, Well, two can play at that game! I wasnt about to lower myself, so I kept my nose in the air and matched her frostiness.
Soon enough, we decided to throw a housewarming partyfamily and friends all crammed into our flat, raising a glass to our new beginnings. I suppose things went on a bit later than intended. Then, right around half past eleven on a Saturday night, the neighbour came knocking. Grumbling about the late hour! Can you believe it? He actually had the nerve to say it was latehalf past eleven! And on a Saturday! He even went so far as to claim his wife had a headache and wanted to sleep.
From that point on, I refused to acknowledge them, even if we found ourselves standing in the same hallway at the same time. My wife, ever the diplomat, continued to nod and say hello, but I was steadfast in my coldness. People needed to learn how to treat decent folk, after all. I was nothing if not proud and perhaps a bit too stubborn.
For a while, we hardly saw them. Then, one evening as we were returning home, we found a young woman waiting outside the communal entryway. She brightened as we approached. Im your neighbours sister, she explained, Ive come a long way and have been waiting for three hours. Would you mind if I waited in the hallway? Its dreadfully cold in the stairwell. A proper blizzard was blowing outside, branches snapping off the trees. Of course, we couldnt leave her out there, so we let her in.
In my best head of the house tone, I asked, Youre not from around here, are you? Wheres your luggage, then? She said shed left it at left-luggage in the station, hoping her brother-in-law would help her fetch it in the morningquite impossible to manage herself in this weather.
Sitting back inside our flat, I grew suspicious. If her own family couldnt come to meet her, I said to my wife, are we sure shes really a relative? What if shes some sort of scam artist, and weve let her in ourselves? Ever suspicious and unmovable, thats always been my trouble.
We went to have dinner, but the thought of this stranger just outside our door wouldnt let me rest. I peered through the spyholethere she was, sitting quietly on a chair, huddled against the cold wall. My wife called me to the table, but my thoughts were elsewhere, still on the stranger outside. My wife suggested bringing her in for a meal. I refused at firsthow could we invite just anyone into our home? But I compromised and took her a chair for the hallway. Still, I demanded, So why didnt your sister meet you then? She answered simply, It was meant to be a surprise. My sister is expecting soon, and its been a difficult pregnancy. I came to offer support, you seecould help out with the baby at first. I listened but remained sceptical. Our neighbour expecting? I hadnt noticed a thing.
Every few minutes, I found myself heading to the door, checking through the peephole. There she sat, quietly waiting, patient as a Sunday school teacher. My wife was soon asleep, but I just couldnt switch off. Each time I shut my eyes, the image of the girl sitting out there came to mind. After all, reaching us had required not only time but plenty of effortshe must have been exhausted.
Looking at the clock, I realised it was nearly midnight. Suddenly, I shot out of bed, wrapped myself in my dressing gown, and stormed into the hallway. Right. Thats it, I said. Come on in. Youll stay at ours tonight! She looked taken aback, but also relieved. I lent her a robe, gave her towel, and sent her off for a hot shower. Once she was feeling a bit more human, I insisted she have some supper. Then I made up the guest room and wished her goodnightfirm but caring, thats me through and through.
I left a note for our neighbours: Your sister is staying with us tonight. Please dont ring the bell before 6:00 am.
At eight oclock the following morning, our neighbour rang the doorbell. He was beaming from ear to earturns out, his wife had given birth to a boy in the midst of the snowy night. You understand, dont you? We have a sona son! Joy just seemed to spill over from him, and suddenly it felt as though their happiness had become mine too. An odd, uplifting feelingI truly felt that something profound had happened for all of us.
Soon after, mother and baby returned home. Our neighbour was glowing with gratitude for what Id donespending that snowy night sheltering her younger sister. Sometimes, each of us believes we know ourselves and understand those around us. We judge, we withdraw, we stand on principleand then, something changes and the anger melts away. Only then do we realise that life is best lived with an open heart. A strangers guest taught me that.
