FAMILY CORNER The Stranger In Our House

A few months before I was born, my dad met a stranger who was new to our small Tennessee town. From the beginning, dad was fascinated with this enchanting newcomer, and soon invited him to live with our family.

The stranger was quickly accepted and was around to welcome me into the world a few months later. As I grew up I never ques-tioned his place in our family. In my young mind, each member had a special niche.

My brother, Bill, five years my senior, was my example. Fran, my younger sister, gave me an opportunity to play "big brother" and develop the art of teasing. My parents were complementary instructors - mom taught me to love the Word of God, and dad taught me to obey it.

But, the stranger was our storyteller. He could weave the most fascinating tales. Adventures, mysteries, and comedies were daily conversations. He could hold our whole family spellbound for hours each evening. If I wanted to know about politics, history, or science, he knew it all. He knew about the past, understood the present, and seemingly could predict the future. The pictures he could draw were so lifelike that I would laugh or cry.

He was like a friend to the whole family. He took Dad, Bill and me to our first major league baseball game. He was always encouraging us to see the movies and he even made arrangements to introduce us to several movie stars. My brother and I were deeply impressed by John Wayne in particular.

The stranger was an incessant talker. Dad didn't seem to mind - but sometimes mom would quietly get up, while the rest of us were enthralled with one of his stories of faraway places, and go to her room, read her Bible and pray. I wonder now if she ever prayed that the stranger would leave.

You see, my dad ruled our household with certain moral convictions. But, this stranger never felt any obligation to honor them. Profanity, for example, was not allowed in our house, not from us, from our friends, or adults. Our longtime visitor, however, used occasional four-letter words that burned my ears and made Dad squirm. To my knowledge, the stranger was never confronted.

My Dad was a teetotaler who didn't permit alcohol in his home, not even for cooking. But the stranger felt like we needed exposure and enlightened us to other ways of life. He offered us beer and other alcoholic beverages often. He made cigarettes look tasty, cigars manly, and pipes distinguished.

He talked freely (probably much too freely) about sex. His comments were sometimes blatant, sometimes suggestive, and generally embarrassing. I know now that my early concepts, of the man-woman relationship, were influenced by the stranger. As I look back, I believe it was the grace of God that the stranger did not influence us more. Time after time, he opposed the values of my parents. Yet, he was seldom rebuked, and never asked to leave.

More than thirty years have passed since the stranger moved in with the Young family on Morningside Drive. He is not nearly so intriguing to my Dad as he was in those early years. But, if you were to walk into my parent's den today, you would still see him sitting over in a corner, waiting for someone to listen to him talk and look at his pictures. His name? We just always called him T.V.

Author Unknown

Side by Side

They lie on the table side by side
The Holy Bible and the TV Guide.
One is well worn and cherished with pride.
Not the Bible, but the TV Guide.
One is used daily to help folks decide.
No, not the Bible, but the TV Guide.
As the pages are turned, what shall they see?
Oh, what does it matter, turn on the TV;
So they open the book in which they confide.
No, not the Bible, but the TV Guide.