Corrie ten Boom, Her Story (continued)
Cast thy bread upon the waters: for thou shalt find it after many days.
Ecclesiastes 11:1
29. The Blessing Box
MANY TIMES, ON mytrips around the world, I am dependent on the hospitality of Christians. From the time of my first trip to America when I was befriended by God's people in New York, and later by Abraham Vereide in Washington, D.C., I have known the love and generosity of others in the Body of Christ.
It was on one of those continual trips, when my only home was my suitcase (that big red one), that I was invited to stay with friends in Colorado. I didn't feel well and needed rest. My hostess escorted me to her lovely house with tal! white columns. Taking me up the carpeted stairs she showed me to a beautiful room. From the windows I could see the clear, blue sky which framed the snow-capped Rocky Mountains. She then put her arms around me and said, "Corrie, this is your room. It will always be here for you."
"This room! For me?" I could hardly believe it was true. A place for me to unpack my suitcase! To hang up my clothes! To spread out my writing papers and put my Bible on a desk! Since that gray time in the concentration camp IJ had longed for bright colors, as a thirsty man yearns for water. This room, and the scenery outside, was filled with color. I wanted to cry, as a child cries when she is happy. But I have learned to control my tears (most of the time, anyway) and was content just to tell the Lord of my deep thankfulness. The Lord is so good for He has given me so many friends, just like this, all over the world.
It was during one of my visits in this Colorado home that I received an early morning telephone call. I was already awake since we intended to leave that afternoon to fly to Washington to speak in a series of meetings arranged by Mr. Vereide.
TRAMP FOR THE LORD 301
The phone call was from Alicia Davison, Mr. Vereide's daughter. "Oh, Alicia, I cannot wait to see you today. I am looking forward to it and the meetings in your fellowship house."
There was a pause, then Alicia said, "Tante Corrie, Dad is with the Lord."
"Oh, Alicia..." I tried to speak, but nothing else would come out.
"Tt is all right, Tante Corrie," she said calmly. "I am calling to ask you to please come on to be with all of us. We will not have the meetings, but so many people are coming and we want you to be with us."
"I shall be there this afternoon," I said. After a brief prayer over the phone, I hung up.
I hurried to finish my packing, remembering all the kindnesses that had been poured on me by this wonderful family and their many friends. I have faced death many times, but there is always an empty place in my heart when someone I know and love leaves to be with the Lord. Nor did it ever occur to me that almost two years later I would once again fly to Washington to sit in that same Presbyterian Church not to attend a memorial for Abraham Vereide but to attend the meeting in honor of Alicia, who, although still young and beautiful, would die in Hong Kong while making a mission tour with her husband, Howard Davison.
I was warmly received by my friends in Washington. Although sad, they were rejoicing in the Lord. That night after I had gone to my room, I prayed, "Lord,"
I asked, "why are people so kind to me? I am just a simple old Dutch woman. Why am I treated so graciously and shown so much hospitality?"
Then the Lord reminded me of my mother's blessing box. Our house in Haarlem was not really big but it had wide open doors.
I do not suppose that the many guests who were always coming to the Beje ever realized what a struggle it was to make both ends meet. Yet many lonesome people found a place with us and joined in our music, humor, and interesting conversation. There was always a place at the oval dinner table, although perhaps the soup was a bit watery when too many unexpected guests showed up. Our entire home was centered in the ministry of the Gospel. All people who came to us were either workers in the Kingdom of God or people who needed help.
Mother loved all her guests. She often showed her love by dropping a penny in the "blessing box" when they arrived.
The blessing box was a small metal box that sat on the sideboard near the oval dinner table. Here money was collected for the mission that was so close to our hearts. Every time our family was blessed in a particular way, Mother would drop money in the blessing box as a thank offering to God. This was especially true if Father sold an expensive watch or received extra money for repairing an antique clock.
Whenever visitors came Mother would spread her arms wide and welcome them and then to show how she really appreciated their presence would say, "A penny in the blessing box for your coming." If it were a special visitor she might even put in a dime.
Then, at the dinner table, Father would always bless our visitors, thanking God that our house was privileged by their presence. It was always a special occasion for us all.
I well remember the sister-in-law of a minister who spent the night with us. The next morning Tante Anna went to her room and found her sheet twisted into a rope and lying across the bed.
"What is this?" Tante Anna asked. The woman broke down in tears. "I must confess. Last night I wanted to commit suicide. I made my sheet into a rope and tied it around my neck to jump from the window. But I could not forget the prayer at the dinner table, as Mr. ten Boom thanked God that I could come and share in this hospitality. God spared my life through that prayer."
After a few days in Washington I continued my traveling as a tramp for the Lord. However, fresh on my mind was the hospitality of my dear friends. And I remembered Mother's blessing box, and Father's prayers. Often I am dependent on the hospitality of Christians. God's people have been so generous to open their homes to me and many times when I lay my head on a strange pillow, which has been blessed by the love of my friends, I realize that I am enjoying the reward for the open doors and open hearts of the Beje.
Heaven will be blessed, but here on earth I already am enjoying a "house with many mansions."