Yesterday started pretty much like most days. I climbed on my bike to do my 30km training run. I was most of the way through the run, and that was good as my fingers and toes were burning from the cold. It was only about 37 degrees, but the wind was blowing strongly. I had one more hill to clear, the steepest and longest of the run, and then it was all downhill for the last 5km to home. I was already looking forward to a hearty breakfast as the hunger pangs kick in after the first hour.

A Chance Encounter that Completely Changed my Plans

As I emerged from a forest, I saw someone coming toward me, walking gingerly, before bending over with hands on their knees. Straightening up in discomfort, he labored to walk. As I approached, he stopped me.

He could only speak a few words. His first word was “Aldi”, a discount market in Germany. My guess is he was looking to buy food and water. Unfortunately, the closest store was miles away. His jacket was too light for the cold, he had no gloves, his sneakers didn’t fit, making it painful to walk, and his hands were really swollen from the cold. I had no idea where he lived, or from where he came, but I knew he couldn’t walk much further.

An Illegal in a Terrible Bind

He was from Tunisia, was looking for work, but had no papers, meaning he was not in Germany legally. Tunisia is a horrible place. Best I could figure out, he hadn’t eaten in two days, had no water and had slept outside for the last couple days. But it was really difficult because he couldn’t understand anything I said, either in German or English. He spoke only Arabic. Standing there freezing in the cold and wind, it comically didn’t occur to me to use Google translate!

He was desperate and asked me to call the police. I didn’t want to do that out of fear he would be immediately deported. So, I called a friend who told me that the police were in fact the first point of contact, so I called and was told that he needed to go to the “Socialamt” for assistance for migrants or to an “Obdachlosenheim”, an emergency place where homeless could stay overnight, and of course, we were miles away from both.

Wanting to Leave, a Parable Compelled me to Stay

Feeling totally helpless, I wanted to leave, but a parable wouldn’t let me. Everyone knows the parable. The Parable of the Good Samaritan has to be among the most renowned in Scripture. After the police begged off, it would’ve been easy to throw up my hands and finish my training route. But I couldn’t bring myself to behave like a Pharisee and just walk away. Funny how God works. I’d just completed a post on how Christians should view refugees and I guess God was putting me to the test!

“Komm” I said and waved him to follow me. We walked about a half mile to the end of the private street, and I told him to wait there until I returned with my car, food and water. I wasn’t sure he understood me, but I wasn’t ready to take him to my home, and he wasn’t in condition to walk another couple miles to get there.

I zipped home, hoping he wouldn’t walk away and quickly grabbed some German “brotchen” (rolls) and cheese, made a couple sandwiches to go with a couple apples and jumped in the car with a one-liter water bottle. He was there waiting for me when I arrived.

A Day Spent in Search of How to Help

When he climbed in the car, I gave him the food and water, some money, and then asked him if he was Christian or Muslim. He quickly responded “Muslim” and I said I was Christian. We then exchanged names. His name was Iman. I drove him to my church, which is directly across the street from a mosque where I hoped someone might speak Arabic.

Unfortunately, the mosque was closed, so I took him into our church and served him some tea. We talked using Google translate while he charged his phone battery. It had gone dead somewhere along his journey and it’s possible he became lost.

For two days he knocked on business doors looking for work, but without legal papers, there was none to be had. No one would even allow him to charge his phone. I quickly learned he’d been working in Duesseldorf where the work had been good but then ended. He’d walked from Duesseldorf all the way to where I found him. By my guess, that was at least 85 miles during the prior two days. No wonder he was struggling to walk.

I was hoping by mid-afternoon, there might be some people at the mosque who could help. But no sooner had he charged his phone and he was ready to leave. I’d spoken with my wife, and we had an idea where he could sleep for a couple nights, and because we had to move a resident in our Christian charity that afternoon, we offered to pay him if he helped.

A Decision to Return to Duesseldorf

But he kept telling me that if he didn’t get back to Duesseldorf it would be a problem, though he wouldn’t tell me why. He pulled up Google maps and showed me the path he took, and he then showed me how he would walk back to Duesseldorf.

But he didn’t seem to understand that he didn’t make a big circle over then last two days, but walked a straight-line due south. He thought that Google maps showed 1 hour walk to Duesseldorf but didn’t understand it was 1 day and 1 hour walk, meaning he’d have to walk at least two more days on his sore feet in the biting cold.

For me, that was a terrible idea, but I couldn’t convince him. I told him I’d take him to Caritas where he could get a meal, take a shower, charge his phone and that they would give him a sleeping bag, but I think for him it was too big a step for a Muslim to go to a Catholic charity.

Despite our attempts to help him, he was determined to return to Duesseldorf. So, I convinced him he should let me buy him a ticket to Duesseldorf on the train. I found a direct that wouldn’t require him to change trains, so I drove him to the station, bought him a ticket, and waited with him until the train arrived to assure he took the right train.

Thoughts from the Ride Home

As I drove home, I’m not sure what I expected. But I didn’t feel good. After all, I hadn’t bettered his horrible situation. But though it didn’t feel good, it did feel natural, and for me, that seemed more important. I’d never done anything like that, and I don’t know anybody who has. The one thing about parables is their timeless teachings. But sometimes they seem too easy to grasp simply because they never happen to us. So, we don’t need to worry how we’ll respond.

I didn’t exactly pass the test with flying colors. But I’d learned compassion from a desperate man who couldn’t thank me enough and was praising God I came along. Not our God, but at least he recognized the hand of God . . . and I think that’s where it starts.

I don’t know why, but for some reason I gave him my phone number just before he boarded the train. It’s not like we can talk. It really made no sense, but nevertheless, I freely gave it to him. Later that evening, I got a call from a number I didn’t recognize. It was Iman and he could only say two things: “Alles gut” (everything is okay) and “thank you”.

I have no idea what will happen to this poor man, but I pray God keeps his hand upon him, leading him into God’s heavenly land. After all, he has no place here on earth he can call his own.