Quote from Forum Archives on October 14, 2003, 9:02 am

Posted by: bigguyhereagain <bigguyhereagain@...>

 

                                 

 

<>< Two Churches ><>        
       
There once were two churches. One day, a homeless man came into
town. He had not eaten for many days and was very hungry. He thought
that he might be able to get a morsel to eat at one of the churches.
The first church was huge -- a Gothic masterpiece, built of solid
limestone, with a spire that seemed to reach into the heavens. When
he tried to open the massive front door he found that it was locked.
Then he saw a sign that said "Office" with an arrow pointing to his
right.

 

When he walked into the office, he found himself in a large, well-
lighted room. A secretary sat at the front desk, typing the church
bulletin onto a computer. She looked up at the shabby man and
frowned. "May I help you?" she asked crisply.

 

"Yes ma'am," the homeless man answered. "I am very hungry. Do you
have any food here?"

 

"Indeed we do," the woman answered proudly. "This church has the
largest food bank in the state. People from far and wide donate to
it. It's been written up in all the papers."

 

"Then," the man said, "may I have something to eat?"

 

The woman looked him up and down. "Do you live here in town?" she
asked. "I've never seen you before."

 

"No, ma'am. I'm just a traveler passing through."

 

The woman turned icy. "I see," she said, reaching into her desk
drawer. She pulled out two sheets of paper and handed them to the
man. "Please fill this out and bring it back to me. It's an
application for assistance. The church board demands that everything
be done properly and in good order here."

 

The homeless man took the papers, walked over to a small desk, sat
down, and filled them out. Then he returned the application to the
secretary. She looked over the papers and said, "Before we can give
you anything, our Executive Board has to approve this. You're in
luck. They meet tomorrow night. Come back Wednesday morning and
we'll see if we can do anything for you."

 

"But I'm so hungry," the man said. "Maybe the minister can help
me. May I see him?"

 

The secretary was clearly becoming agitated. "Do you have an
appointment?"

 

"No, ma'am."

 

"You must have an appointment. Our minister is very busy. Right
now he's meeting with the mayor and the committee to beautify our
town. The pastor is a very important man. He's been written up in
all the papers. You come back on Wednesday and maybe we can feed
you. You don't need to see the minister about this."

 

The homeless man walked out of the church office and continued
down the street. A few blocks later, he saw another church. This one
was small and made of wood. It looked very poor. Inside he found a
young man sweeping the floor between the old wooden pews. The young
man looked up and smiled. "Welcome stranger," he said
brightly. "What can we do for you?"

 

"May I see the minister or the secretary?" the homeless man asked.

 

The young man chuckled. "We don't have a secretary, but I'm the
minister."

 

"Then," the homeless man said, "can I get something to eat from
your food bank."

 

"I'm afraid we don't have one of those either," the minister
said. "This church is so poor that our members barely have enough to
feed themselves."

 

The homeless man turned to leave but was stopped by the
minister. "But," the young man said, "my wife is fixing me lunch
right now. It's not very fancy, but I'd he honored to share it with
you. She will bring it to my office in a few minutes. Come in and
eat with me."

 

A half hour later, the homeless man was just polishing off the
last of a thick ham and cheese sandwich and a steaming bowl of
homemade vegetable soup. Then the preacher's wife produced a small
paper sack and an old thermos bottle. "Here are a few more
sandwiches, sir, some cookies, and some hot coffee. You can return
the thermos to me whenever you come back through town."

 

As the homeless man walked out of the town, He looked back to see
the spire of the big church rising high above the rest of the
buildings. He could not see the small church at all. Yet, He knew
that it was there and praised His Father for the kind young minister
and his generous wife. He would not forget them -- ever -- and
neither would His Father.

 

The thermos bottle was, even then, sitting on the stoop of the
little church. But instead of containing coffee, it was now
overflowing with God's blessings.

Ed Price

<>< An Unexpected Moment ><> 

 

It was hard to watch her fail. Physically she was growing thinner and more
stooped. Mentally she was losing her ability to sort out reality.
Initially, my grandmother had railed angrily against the symptoms of
Alzheimer's disease that were eroding who she had always been.

 

Eventually, the anger gave way to frustration and then resignation. My
grandmother had always been a strong woman.
She had a career before it was common for women to have careers. She was
independent. In her eighties, she was still dragging out her stepladder
every spring to wash all the windows in her house. She was also a woman
with a deep faith in God.

 

As my grandmother lost her ability to live alone, my father
moved her into his home. Grandchildren and great-grandchildren
were often in the house. She seemed to enjoy being surrounded
by the noise and activity of a large, extended family.  As she slipped
further away from us mentally, my grandmother would occasionally have
moments of lucidity when she knew where
she was and recognized everyone around her. We never knew what prompted
those moments, when they would occur or how long they would last.

 

Toward the end of her life she became convinced that her mother had knit
everything she owned. "Mama knit my boots," she would tell strangers,
holding up a foot clad in galoshes. "Mama knit my coat," she would say with
a vacant smile as she zipped up her raincoat. Soon we were putting on her
boots for her and helping her zip up her coat.

 

During my grandmother's last autumn with us, we decided to take
a family outing. We packed up the cars and went to a local fair
for a day of caramel apples, craft booths and carnival rides.
Grandma loved flowers, so my dad bought her a rose. She carried it proudly
through the fair, stopping often to breathe in its
fragrance.  Grandma couldn't go on the carnival rides, of course, so she
sat on a bench close by and waited while the rest of the family rode. Her
moments of lucidity were now a thing of the past
having eluded her for months, but she seemed content to sit and
watch as life unfolded around her.

 

While the youngest members of the family ran, laughing to get in
line at the next ride, my father took my grandmother to the
nearest bench. A sullen-looking young woman already occupied
the bench but said she wouldn't mind sharing the bench.

 

"Mama knit my coat," my grandmother told the young woman as she sat down.

 

We didn't let my grandmother out of our sight, and when we came back to the
bench to get her, the young woman was holding the rose. She looked as
though she had been crying.

 

"Thank you for sharing your grandmother with me," she said. Then she told
us her story. She had decided that day was to be her last on Earth. In deep
despair and feeling she had nothing to live for, she was planning to go
home and commit suicide.
While she sat on that bench with Grandma as the carnival noises swirled
around them, she found herself pouring out her troubles.

 

"Your grandmother listened to me," the young woman informed us. "She told
me about a time in her own life, during the
Depression, when she had lost hope. She told me that God loved me and that
He would watch over me and would help me make it through my problems. She
gave me this rose. She told me that my life would unfold just like this
rose and that I would be
surprised by its beauty. She told me my life was a gift. She
said she would be praying for me."

 

We stood, dumbfounded, as she hugged my grandmother and thanked her for
saving her life. Grandma just smiled a vacant smile and patted her arm. As
the young woman turned to leave, she waved good-bye to us. Grandma waved
back and then turned to look at us, still standing in amazement.

 

"Mama knit my hat," she said.
 Sara L. Henderson

Have a Blessed Day
Dave and Barbara

 

 

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