노인과 몰몬경

노인과 몰몬경

I suddenly remembered a story today after reading a CO-J-COLDS's Facebook post. This was from a few years back when I was a new convert, happily sharing the Gospel with others for the first time in my life. 

I've told this story a few times before, so those who know me will also know this story.

Many years ago, I lived in a small, university town a rock's throw from the end of civilization and the beginning of the country side. Rice fields in every direction, occasionally decorated with the random roadside diner or gas station. The town I lived in became a ghost town during the vacations, leaving the small population of residents with peace and quiet until the first day of classes. 

Every morning, I would walk through the small line of stores, coffee shops, cell phone stores, hair stylist places, and chicken shops on my way to the office. And, most every morning I would see the shaky, bearded old man pushing the metal, makeshift handcart (리어카), slowly collecting the recyclables willfully given to him from all the shop owners up and down that street. He was a nice old man who was always thankful for the small amount each shop keeper would give him. The morning yield would probably just be enough to provide him a meal or two that day of the basic essentials. His sun beating and time worn body didn't match the thankful and joyful heart he had which shined to those around him.

When the summer came, it was abnormally hot, but this old man would still be pushing the handcart up and down the road. And one particular day, I stopped and gave him a big bottle of water (like I usually did) and my normal load of cardboard I collected near my apartment to give to him. He asked me if I was a store owner (because I always had a handful of cardboard to give him). I told him that I was just trying to help him out. Then, he offered to pay me for the water (this blew me back) and I told him that it was a gift and that I wanted to give him something to read. I handed him a Book of Mormon and he told me that he knew of the Mormons and that he had seen them around and talked with them sometimes through his very long life. The conversation went on for a moment that he had gotten a Book of Mormon many years back but had never gotten around to reading it. I told him to keep it and read at his own speed. He thanked me and put the BOM in his little backpack strapped to the handcart and then took a big drink of water.

I continued to see him and give him cardboard and water and until one day, he stopped showing up. The shopkeepers were curious what had happened, but I expected the obvious.

I am just happy that some of us could help out an old man full of integrity. But, I wish I could have done more. And, it is nice that he had some experiences with the Mormons throughout his life that ended up being somewhat fruitful.