Notes From The City: An Abundant Life

I have been sleeping on a futon since I first moved to NYC in 1987. My first roommate had an extra in the double size on a frame from a friend who had been living with her who had gone to live in another country for a year, and when that friend came back and took back the futon, I bought another from a Columbia student who was moving, queen sized this time, and moved to the floor. When that one was flooded out in my next apartment from a leaky upstairs pipe, I got another one and moved up to king size. I had that one for a long time and it moved with me I don't even know how many times, up and down walk-up stairs, into attics and sublets and everything in between, and finally ended up with me in a basement apartment that got flooded several times from the tenants upstairs and a landlord who kept overfilling his fish tank. I thought that the futon had missed being swamped, but one night I came home to a bedroom that the landlord had torn apart in a flood frenzy, and a futon in disarray that showed not only the current soaking, but that I had been lying on top of a growing toxic mold heap for what might have been months. The futon went out that night and I was left sleeping on a blow up bed the landlord lent me that kept losing air. By morning I was flat on the ground. I always sleep with a lot of pillows and thankfully those had been spared, so I used them to lie on and stopped by a futon store on my way home from work to see how much this was going to cost me. It had been a long time since I'd bought a futon and they weren't cheap even way back in the day, and though the landlord was by rights responsible for buying me a new one, when I prayed about it the answer came back that I needed to bless the landlord because he was going through a rough time. I wasn't too happy about that answer, but I've learned to listen to God, and so off to the futon store I went, not knowing how I'd ever afford to sleep on a decent bed again.

Sleep Island/FutonLand at 533 Washington Street in Hoboken turned out to be an oasis and God given refuge. The owner, Romeo, has been in the business for many years, and the quality of his products is the best. He's the best, too, a kind and funny and sweethearted man, and you can count on him to do business that's honest and that you can count on. Don't make me sorry I told you that - when you visit him, treat him like the gold that he is. He works hard and long hours, and never complains. His smile and hilarious stories can turn any day into sunshine, and sometimes if you're lucky you'll hear him speak Russian in a way that warms your heart. He and his son Nathan delivered the new futon on Good Friday, two weeks after I had lost the old one. God provided the finances in the miraculous way He does, but Romeo gave me a great price and made it all possible. I couldn't have been more blessed than to have walked into his store. When I looked at the name on the futon, it had a tag that said, "The World's Best Bed," and I have to say that's true. The quality is excellent, but the experience of meeting Romeo was the icing on the cake.

The World's Best Bed
from Sleep Island/FutonLand, 533 Washington Street

With A Vintage Screen as a Headboard
from Modern Retro Finds at 91 Park Avenue in Hoboken