I heard this story word of mouth. The orginal author is unknown. I wrote this retelling.

William had just arrived in the United States from two tours in Vietnam. He found a nice apartment in San Francisco, and
the first thing he did upon settling in was call his parents. They were ecstatic at the sound of his voice, their long
absent son finally home. William said he was coming to visit soon, but he wanted to bring a friend of his along as well.

"He's got no place else to go," William explained. "I just wanted him to stay with us until he can get on his feet. Oh, and
there's one thing I want to you know about my friend. In the war he stepped on a land mine, and he lost one leg and one
arm."

William's parents were silent for a minute, then his dad spoke.

"Son, I'm sure your friend is a good man, but do you understand the burden that would be placed on us to have such a man
living in our house? It would be too much for our small house to handle. Why don't you let your friend find his own
way, and you just come home to us, okay?" William hung up the phone without another word. His parents never heard
from him again.

Five days later, William's parents got a telephone call from the San Francisco police. A man they had identified as William
had just fallen to his death from the top of a building, and they believed it was suicide. Could they come out to California
and identify the body?

The flew out to California and entered the police station drowned in tears. They saw the body on their only son, it was
definitely him, but the thing that hurt the most was that he was missing one arm and one leg.


The love of God does not extend to only those who are healthy or convenient to our needs. God commands us to love
everyone, in spite of their outward appearance.