Leap of Faith

Faith.

We don't all that much of it these days. In the not too recent past, weary travellers who knocked on even the humblest of abodes would expect the doors flung open with gracious hospitality awaiting them. Few would be turned away and even the poorest of hosts would have a stale loaf ready to share with the foreigner at his door.

But with crime on the rise - murders and robberies occurring every other minute, we have become just a little less trusting. Everyone's guilty until proven innocent. And the doors have started slamming shut on the face of the tired wanderers. Rather than welcome them with open arms, we thrust them bodily into the streets branding them as bums, hobos and tramps. All the doors bolted and no word of kindness given, so wicked were the people of that land!

No doubt much to the horror of famed hosts of antiquity Baucis and Philemon.

I'll admit even I had my misgivings. But I took a leap of faith.


Wonder if my hosts are any good!
And had two couch surfers coming by my place.

FYI couch surfing is a neologism referring to the practice of moving from one friend's house to another, sleeping in whatever spare space is available - either floor or couch - generally staying a few days before moving on to the next. Usually backpacking tourists of course.

Paul : I'm having couch surfers over.
Objector : Lock up your valuables!
Paul : They seem fine!
Objector : Lock up the knives!
Paul : They seem fine!
Objector : You can say that after you're tied up, robbed and hacked up!

Almost everyone I knew had something bad to say. Obviously trust is a diminishing commodity.

With horrific visions of armed robberies and serial killers in my head, I started having second thoughts. Don't feel like getting hacked up and buried in the fetid swamps around here. In a state of mindless panic, I even thought ignobly of installing closed-circuit televisions in hidden corners around the house!

Fortunately I recalled just before picking the surfers that I actually had some faith in humanity - and a trusty version of the Louisville Slugger under the bed.