On my walk today I got talking to a bloke; he asked me how I was doing and what I was up to these days. This wasn't out of the ordinary, I had spoken to him many times before and simply saw him as a devoted family man.
I began to tell him about my book (Waiting for Wings - A Story of Hope) and he told me that him and his wife have taken in, and are caring for, an 18 month old boy with a brain disease.
He told me to follow him to his dining-room window. He knocked on the window and somebody from inside opened it.
He told me to poke my head in and see the boy they were caring for (unfortunately I've forgotten his name). A carer came to the window holding a boy with tubes coming out of his nose.
'Doctors gave him 6 months to live,' he said to me. 'It's been 18 months so far, in fact, it's nineteen now.' He smiled proudly.
I was really touched by this.
'They call him the miracle boy,' he said.
It made me think how we go about judging people, yet we have no idea what really goes on behind closed doors. Next time you find yourself judging someone, stop and just think for a moment that they might be looking after a miracle child back at home.
An open heart is capable of giving an infinite amount.