When I was about 7 years old, my family and I went to spend the week on a beach in California. We had a camper that we would sleep in and my mom would cook in most of the time.
My younger brother and I collected so many seashells my mom made us leave a lot of them behind.
I remember the last night we were there. There were fire pits on the beach back then so people could have a fire and cook hot dogs or marshmallows.
It wasn’t quite dark yet but it was getting cold. Dad started the fire and we sat around just watching it.
We heard what sounded like a scuffle just a little way up the beach and my dad got up to go see what it was. I followed him, much to my mom’s dismay and I saw two guys pushing around another one. He had really long hair and was really thin. I didn’t learn, til years later, that he was a Vietnam vet and back then, those soldiers were treated very badly. I am not sure what my dad said or did but the two that were beating up that man took off running and my dad helped him to his feet, gathering up his things.The look on that man’s face when my dad stepped in is something I will always remember. At first he looked scared but when my dad started talking to him, one vet to another, he looked like he was going to cry. I remember that my dad brought him back to our camp fire and we cooked hot dogs over the open flames. My brother and I fell asleep there on the beach while he and my dad talked. The next morning that man was gone and my dad was really quiet.
My mom was a bit upset that my dad brought a “hippie” to our campfire but he just reminded her about who Jesus ministered to while here on earth.
Not only did my dad help out a fellow vet get out of a bad situation but I am pretty sure he told that man about God. 🙂
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