30 June 2001
Subject: A Man's Worth
Dear Ones,
People walk in and out of our life.... and, I believe, they do so for a reason. Today, I will tell you about the person who taught me something about "a man's worth".
His name was James Carlton Christman although everyone in town called him B. B.. He was the town derelict... an eccentric old man who walked around in the summer wearing his winter coat.... always dirty.... always unshaven and unkempt. Most folks avoided him like the plague. A former land surveyor, he was well educated. He knew enough to locate property through courthouse records, which was not owned by anyone and, then, gained ownership by "squatting" on it. He lived alone since all his immediate family were "gone".
One Sunday, Leavon and I were "visiting" in the church were B. B. attended. At the end of the service, B. B. asked to speak to the congregation. He said that he had recently received a monetary insurance settlement from an accident in which he was involved and he wanted to give the money to the church in memory of those old pioneers of the church who had befriended him in his youth. I told him after church that his contribution to the church was a most noble gesture. After walking away from him, I was mildly chided by a church elder for "talking with that dirty old man". I reminded the elder that Jesus didn't discriminate amongst those He talked to and neither did I.
Some years after this church experience, B. B. had to be placed in the nursing home. The next Sunday after attending our own church, Leavon and I decided to go see B. B. in the nursing home. We stopped by the store and purchased a basket of fruit to take to him. When we walked in, we hardly recognized B. B. for he had been bathed and shaved.
While in the nursing home, B. B.'s small shack was burned down by someone and his property was confiscated by the town for non-payment of taxes.
Time took its
toll on B. B.. In later years, when we went to see him, he could no longer
speak.... but his eyes told us that we were welcomed.
Some ladies from his church called me one day to ask if I would get a court order to be appointed as B. B.'s guardian so that someone could make medical decisions for him. I agreed to do so and spoke to a lawyer and the judge about it. Before the court order was effected, I received a call that B. B. had died.
When I went to the funeral home to make his funeral arrangements. I thought we might have to bury him in a pauper's grave, but found out that his deceased dad had several un-used plots in the cemetery. Also, I discovered that he had a small burial policy and that a sister-in-law in Illinois had earlier sent some money to be applied toward his burial expenses. A widow from his church had saved a suit belonging to her deceased husband for us to bury B.B. in and we rounded up a shirt and tie. We had everything in order for the funeral, except that B. B.'s church had a new pastor who said that he "really didn't know B. B. very well", so I volunteered to speak at the funeral.
The day before the funeral, I went to the nursing home to retrieve B. B.'s belongings. I was given a small plastic bag, which contained a few Christmas cards made by local schoolchildren for the nursing home patients. Also, the bag held a small piece of plastic tied with a twisty which contained several coins. I opened the plastic and counted out 23 cents.
In my "eulogy", I held up the small plastic bag and told those in attendance that "here is the sum total of B. B.'s accumulated wealth.... 23 cents, but, in the eyes of God, his worth was immeasurable.... just like us, he was one of God's children... he was made in the image of God"... and I asked that God forgive us for laughing at and making fun of B. B.. I, then, related the story of how B. B., with so little, had given his insurance settlement to the church and I said, "A man's worth is measured not by what he has, but by what he does with what he has!"
I believe that B. B. came into to my life to teach me that lesson.
Don
P. S. I should tell you that I announced at the funeral that the 23 cents was being given to his church to start up a B. B. Christman Memorial Fund to help others in need. The next day, I received a call from the funeral director that she had some more money to add to the 23 cents. I asked, "Where did it come from?" She said, "The undertaker found a dime in the pocket of the suit you gave us to bury him in." I said, "Great, we are on our way."
Within the next few months, the B. B. Christman Memorial Fund had grown to over $400.... and 23 cents. A man's worth......
James Carlton "B. B." Christman
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The more
you give, the more you get
The more you do unselfishly
The more you live abundantly.
The more of everything you share,
The more you laugh, the less you fret.
The more you'll always have to spare.
The more you love, the more you'll find
That life is good and friends are kind.
For only what we give away,
Enriches us from day to day.