The Miracle of the Pancake

by Douglas J. Eboch

Hear the story read by the author

In the town of Normal, Pennsylvania, there’s a little church at the corner of Wilson and Elm. A recent rain storm had done extensive damage to the classroom used by the “Guppies,” the pre-school Sunday school class. Needing money for repair, the church resorted to a time honored source of fundraising: a pancake breakfast.

They held the breakfast before church one Sunday and sold tickets for two dollars. Church secretary Tammy Billings organized the event while her husband Ralph served as head pancake chef. Also volunteering in the kitchen were Pastor O’Donnell’s wife Jennifer and daughter Katie, and Missy Moore, a woman of relentlessly sunny disposition.

Missy liked to wear bright colored dresses and matching hats to church and she made no exception the morning of the pancake breakfast. So she was very careful to make sure her apron was properly arranged to protect her outfit. Her job was to mix up pancake batter with Jennifer.

The social hall quickly filled with hungry congregants as organist Walter Tibble played Bach between large doses of coffee. Walter was not a morning person. A basket for additional donations had been set by the door, seeded with a few dollars from Ralph to get things going. Everyone helped themselves to coffee and orange juice as the smell of pancakes wafted in from the kitchen.

When Tammy indicated that the first batch was ready, Pastor O’Donnell gave a blessing. He made it quick because he was looking forward to a nice, big breakfast. And with Jennifer working in the kitchen she wouldn’t be giving him disapproving looks when he took seconds. Or thirds.

When the pastor finished, Katie and Tammy served big platters of pancakes to each table. Ralph didn’t disappoint - each one was warm, fluffy and delicious.

Pastor O’Donnell was seated at a table with Del and Karen Winslow and choir director Shane Reed. The four of them made quick work of the first platter of pancakes. When Tammy brought them a second one, they each tried to be patient as the others helped themselves in turn. When Shane plopped his second helping on his plate, he let out a little gasp.

“Look at that,” he said, pointing at the top pancake with his fork. In the center of the light tan pancake was a slightly raised bubble with a darker brown image on it. “It kind of looks like…well, it kind of looks like a woman’s face.”

They all stared at the pancake not sure what to say. Then Karen voiced what they were all thinking. “It looks like the Virgin Mary,” she said.

“It’s a miracle,” Del whispered. Then, “isn’t it?”

They all looked at Pastor O’Donnell. He shifted uncomfortably in his metal folding chair. He was a man of faith so of course he believed in miracles. But he was more comfortable with the kind of miracles where someone comes along to help you out when you get a flat tire on a deserted road. He tended toward skepticism when it came to showy miracles like religious imagery appearing in food.

He studied the pancake closely. It sure looked like an image of the Virgin Mary. “I don’t know,” he said. It might be.”

Del stood up and tapped his orange juice glass with his fork. “Excuse me folks,” he said in his commanding baritone, “you’ve gotta see this.”

People gathered around. The hubbub of conversation grew from whispered questioning to bubbling excitement. And everyone was looking to their pastor to interpret this miracle.

So O’Donnell did his best. “God has clearly blessed this pancake breakfast,” he said. “We ought to respond by digging deep and giving all we can toward the repair of the Guppies’ classroom.”

It was simple but effective. In no time the donation basket was overflowing with bills. And not just singles, but tens and twenties. It would turn out to be the most successful pancake breakfast fundraiser in the little church’s history.

Katie, a typically cynical teenager, had studied the pancake at length. She didn’t know what it meant theologically, but it was certainly cool. She remembered the people back in the kitchen and went to tell them the news so they could see it themselves.

“You’ll never believe what happened,” she said as she entered. Then she noticed Missy down on all fours feeling under the work tables. “What are you doing,” Katie asked.

“I lost my brooch,” Missy replied.

“What did it look like?”

“It was the Virgin Mary. My grandmother gave it to me when I was confirmed.”

Back in the Social Hall, Shane had set the miracle pancake aside. “You’re going to be rich,” Del told him. “People will pay to see stuff like that.”

“Wait a minute,” Pastor O’Donnell interrupted, “Why is he going to be rich? The pancake belongs to the church.”

“No it doesn’t,” Del said. “Shane paid for pancakes and he took that one. It’s his pancake.”
“It doesn’t matter who took the pancake. When a miracle happens in the church, the church deserves the benefit.”

The argument was about to get heated when Katie walked up and plunged her fingers into the pancake.

“HEY,” O’Donnell, Del and Shane all shouted simultaneously.

Then Katie pulled Missy’s Virgin Mary brooch out of the pancake. She turned to Missy who was standing in the door of the kitchen. “I found it,” Katie told her.

“It’s a miracle!” Missy said.


(In loving memory of Evie Austin)