Our house was directly across the street from the clinic entrance of Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore. We lived downstairs and rented the upstairs rooms to out patients at the clinic.

One summer evening as I was fixing supper， there was a knock at the door. I opened it to see a truly awful looking man. \"Why， he's hardly taller than my eightyear-old，\" I thought as I stared at the stooped1， shriveled2 body. But the appalling3 thing was his face， lopsided4 from swelling5， red and raw.

Yet his voice was pleasant as he said， \"Good evening. I've come to see if you've a room for just one night. I came for a treatment this morning from the eastern shore， and there's no bus till morning.\"

For a moment I hesitated， but his next words convinced me: \"I could sleep in this rocking chair on the porch. My bus leaves early in the morning.\" At bedtime， we put a camp cot6 in the children's room for him. When I got up in the morning， the bed linens7 were neatly folded and the little man was out on the porch.

He refused breakfast， but just before he left for his bus， haltingly8， as if asking a great favor， he said， \"Could I please come back and stay the next time I have a treatment? I won't put you out a bit. I can sleep fine in a chair.\" And on his next trip he arrived a little after seven in the morning.

As a gift， he brought a big fish and a quart of the largest oysters9 I had ever seen. He said he had shucked10 them that morning before he left so that they'd be nice and fresh. I knew his bus left at 4:00 a.m. and I wondered what time he had to get up in order to do this for us.

In the years he came to stay overnight with us there was never a time that he did not bring us fish or oysters or vegetables from his garden.

Other times we received packages in the mail， always by special delivery; fish and oysters packed in a box of fresh young spinach11 or kale12， every leaf carefully washed. Knowing that he must walk three miles to mail these， and knowing how little money he had made the gifts doubly precious.

I know our family always will be grateful to have known him; from him we learned what gratitude is.

我家的房子位于巴尔德摩约翰斯·霍普金斯医院诊所人口的马路对面。我们住在楼下，把楼上租给诊所的患者。

一年夏天的晚上，当我做晚饭时，有人敲门。开门后，看到一个非常丑陋的人。天哪，他不如我8岁的孩子高。我打量着他，他不仅驼背而且骨瘦如材。他的脸最难看，一边肿胀使整个脸都变形了，脸发红而且有伤。

他的声音很好听。他说：“晚上好，我来看看你是否有房间，只呆一晚上。我早上从东部海岸来这儿治疗。晚上没有回去的汽车。”

我犹豫了一下，但听了他下面的话后才让他进来。他说：“我可以在走廊里的摇椅上睡，汽车明天一大早就离开。”

睡觉时，我在孩子的房间放了一个露营用的帆布床。第二天早上我起来时，床上用品收拾得整整齐齐，小矮人已在走廊里。

他没有吃早饭，在离开赶公共汽车前，犹豫了一下，好像请求帮天大的忙，问我是否在下一次治疗时也能住在这儿。“我不会给你带来麻烦，在椅子里睡就可以了。”下一次，早上7点刚过，他又来了。

他带来了好多礼物。一条大鱼、一夸脱我所见过的最大的牡蛎。他说为了保鲜，他在早上，临走时才剥掉牡蛎的壳。我知道他乘坐的公共汽车早上4点发车，我纳闷他几点起床为我们干这些的。

在以后几年，凡是到我们家过夜，他都要带来新鲜的鱼、牡蛎和他自己种植的蔬菜。

有时，我们也收到他寄来的包裹，总是特快专递。有新鲜的鱼和牡蛎，包在一箱新鲜的嫩菠菜或者甘蓝里。蔬菜的每一片叶子都精心地洗过。……