My folks had a good many peddlers to stay overnight; and there were a lot of peddlers in those days. We never turned anyone away. In Hebrews 13:2 one reads, “Be not forgetful to entertain strangers for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.” It seemed word got around that ours was the place to stay.
One summer night a well-dressed man came into the yard. We were all outside. The man said he had heard that we had reasonable rates for staying overnight. Father said, “That's true.” The man asked, “How much do you charge?” My father said he did not charge anything, to which the man asked, “How can you do that?” Father said, “We don't have much overhead expense.” The man wanted to see the sleeping quarters, so father took him to the barn and showed him the hay mow. The man had a queer look on his face when he asked, “Where can I take a bath?” Father showed him the water tank outside the barn where the cows and the horses drank. The water was solar heated. Father said, “Well, do you want to stay or not?” Said the man, “It's quite primitive but I'll stay.”
My folks would have peddlers stay over during the winter months too, but they stayed in the house. One day in January a man came to the door and asked to stay overnight – the weather was getting worse by the hour – we were going into a three day blizzard.
The man looked kind of wild out of his eyes. Suppertime came and we were sitting around the table. That's when father made a mistake...he asked the man to pray. You never heard anything like it. When he started to pray, we could not understand one word. He went to moaning and groaning, and started to howl like a coyote; he pounded the table, the dishes were just a-dancing. He kept praying for quite a while. When he finished, he said, “I just got the Spirit.” Father looked at Mother and said, in Dutch, “This man is going bananas. It will be something if we have to take him to Kalamazoo in this weather.” At which the man turned to father and said, “I see you are getting the Spirit too, talking to your wife in a strange language.” My father did not ask him to pray again in the three days the man stayed. I remember the man would sit and stare for the longest time. After three days he left, and never came back.
This story was originally published in the Zeeland Record on October 25, 1984 under the title Thumb Nails by Antonia