There is a story from the Hawaiian culture. “I asked my grandmother if she knew him. ‘No, he was a malihini.’ When I asked her why she fed him, she got angry, ordered me to sit on the floor in front of her and said, “I want you to remember these words for as long as you live, and never forget them. I was not feeding the man. I was entertaining the spirit of God within him.”
I have a childhood memory of going door-to-door in my town, in the early spring, selling seeds to neighbors and strangers. I am sure it was a fundraiser for Holy Name School where I was a student. I didn’t much care for it, knocking on doors, “Would you like to buy some seeds?” After a couple of years, I began to learn who planted flowers and who planted vegetables. I recall one year, when a lovely, elderly woman understood my plight, and bought my entire inventory. Done! Yea!