The Fruitarian Family

 It was Friday afternoon, and we, the pastor’s family, were busily preparing for Sabbath, though he was away. Suddenly, we were surprised by an urgent knocking. “Come quickly,” said our friend, Dimitris. “There is an English family. They don’t eat meat.” At that time in Greece, vegetarianism was quite a novelty.

 With Dimitris, I saw a young, long-haired hippie wearing sack-like clothes secured by a rope belt. His fingernails were uncut, and he was pale and thin, as was his little boy, who clung to his hand. Our friend had offered to treat the family to a hot meal, but they would eat only fruit. In desperation, he had brought them to us. I agreed to take them in and feed them, so Dimitris and the hippie left for the station to bring the man’s wife and baby, leaving the little boy with me.

 Soon the rest of the family arrived. The young hippie mother was as pale and thin as her husband, and she held a tiny baby in her arms. After they had accepted my offer of a warm shower, I laid out a variety of fruit (they would eat nothing else), which they ate, sitting on the floor without plates or cutlery. Tired after their journey, mother and children were ready for bed—but not in a bed. They would sleep on the floor! However, the floor was stone and very cold, so I dismantled the Ping-Pong table and put it on the floor under their sleeping bags.

By this time, I was more than ready for bed, but the young father wanted to talk, so we settled down to a long discussion. He had been very impressed with the robust appearance of our four boys, especially as his little son had not grown at all in the last three years. He talked on, explaining his strange religious beliefs and his problems with sinful cravings for fried potatoes. The hours ticked by. I tried to answer his endless questions, and eventually, deep in thought, he joined his family on the Ping-Pong table. The following day they continued their journey.

I decided to send their name and address (they lived in a tent on the moors) to friends in England who could perhaps help them on their return home. Through my friends, I heard that the hippie mother and children were being treated at a hospital for malnutrition, and the father was having Bible studies with the local pastor.

God surely works in mysterious ways His wonders to perform!

 Revel Papaioannou