Support for Parents Involved in Christian Education
THE STRANGER
A few years after I was born, my Dad met a stranger who was new to our small
Texas 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 from then on. As I grew up,
I never questioned his place in my family. In my young mind, he had a
special niche. My parents were complementary instructors: Mom taught me good
from evil, and Dad Taught me to obey. But the stranger...he was our
storyteller. He would keep us spellbound for hours on end with adventure,
mystery and comedy. If I wanted to know anything about politics, history or
science, he always knew the answers about the past, understood the present
and even seemed able to predict the future!
He took my family to our first major league ball game. He made me laugh, and
he made me cry. The stranger never stopped talking, but Dad didn't seem to
mind. Sometimes, Mom would get up quietly while the rest of us were shushing
each other to listen to what he had to say, and she would go to the kitchen
for peace and quiet. (I wonder now if she ever prayed for the stranger to
leave.)
Dad ruled our household with certain moral convictions, but the stranger
never felt obligated to honor them. Profanity, for example, was not allowed
in our home... Not from us, our friends or any visitors. Our longtime
visitor, however, got away with language that burned my ears, made dad
squirm, and my mother blush.
My Dad didn't permit the use of alcohol. But the stranger encouraged us to
try it on a regular basis. He made cigarettes look cool, cigars manly and
pipes distinguished. He talked freely about sex. His comments were sometimes
blatant, often suggestive, and generally embarrassing.
I now know that my early concepts about relationships were influenced
strongly by the stranger. Time after time, he opposed the values of my
parents, yet he was seldom rebuked... And never asked to leave.
More than fifty years have passed since the stranger first moved in with our
family. He has blended right in and is not nearly as fascinating as he was
at first. Still, if you were to walk into my parents' home today, you would
still find him sitting in his corner, waiting for someone to listen to him
talk and spin tales... His name?.... We just call him, 'TV'