No Tea and Sympathy

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. Last Wednesday the church’s Senior Pastor, Henry O’Donnell, woke up with a nasty cold. He lay in bed for an hour coughing and sniffling and debating whether he could make it through a day of work.

He decided he could not.

He waited until just after nine when church secretary Tammy Billings would be in the office and called in. “I’m sick,” he told her. “I’m going to stay home.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Tammy said sympathetically. “What do you want to do about the apportionment paperwork? It’s due today.”

Henry moaned. He had been putting off the chore for weeks. Paperwork was the least favorite part of his job. And any paperwork relating to finance was the worst – especially this year when church income had fallen significantly. But turning the paperwork in to the district office late would only mean more headaches down the line.

“Okay,” Henry finally said. “I’ll come in and do it. But then I’m going straight back home.”

Henry dragged himself out of bed and pulled on sweats and a baseball cap. “Why does this stuff always happen to me?” he said to no one in particular.

“Good morning,” Tammy said brightly when Henry stomped into the office an hour later.

“Wish it were,” he grunted.

“Karen Winslow called,” Tammy replied, holding out a message slip.

“I’ll call her back tomorrow. As soon as I finish the apportionment paperwork I’m outta here. So please don’t bother me with anything that isn’t absolutely urgent. And why is it so cold in here anyway?”

“The heat’s on the fritz again,” Tammy told him. “The repairman’s coming to fix it tomorrow.”

“That’s just great,” O’Donnell muttered and lumbered into his office.

“You know he’s going to say we need to replace the furnace,” Tammy called after.

“Yeah,” O’Donnell replied. “We’ll do that as soon as someone dies and leaves ten thousand dollars to the church.”

Henry sat in his office coughing and sneezing loudly and with some regularity. Despite his best efforts, Tammy seemed oblivious to his agony.

After about fifteen minutes he trudged back out to the front office. Normally he drank coffee in the morning, but his throat was killing him. He opened the box of tea bags that was by the coffee maker and microwave on a credenza across from Tammy’s desk.

The box was empty.

He turned to Tammy. “We’re out of tea bags.”

“Oh, sorry,” she said. “I used the last one.”

Henry eyed the mug sitting by Tammy’s computer. The tag of her tea bag dangled over the rim taunting him. “Are there more in the kitchen,” he asked.

“I think they’re in the storeroom downstairs,” she replied.

Henry watched Tammy clacking away at her keyboard. She showed no signs of volunteering to retrieve another box of tea in the near future. It looked like poor, sick Henry was going to have to do it himself. He coughed particularly violently as he went out.

“You do sound bad,” Tammy called after, not looking up from her computer.

Henry tromped downstairs where he discovered the changing table from the nursery had been moved into the hall and was blocking the storeroom door. He looked around hoping someone would materialize to hear him complain about the discourtesy, but he was alone. He shoved the unwieldy table back into the nursery.

The nursery looked like a disaster area. All the cupboards had been opened and the contents stacked in various piles around the room. Half full boxes cluttered the small table.

When Henry got back to the main office he asked Tammy if she was aware that someone had vandalized the nursery.

“Very funny, pastor,” Tammy said. “Karen started to clean it out on Sunday but then she got really tired. She said she’s been feeling tired a lot lately. Probably has something to do with Carrie and her husband living with them. “

Karen Winslow was a Sunday school teacher at the church. Her daughter Carrie was expecting her first child. It had been a year since the last infant at the church and the nursery had become a depository of odds and ends in that time. Henry had known the chore needed to be done for a while and was glad Karen took it on, but he hated when people didn’t finish what they started.

“How long is she going to leave it like that?” he grumbled.

“I’m sure she’ll finish it up this Sunday.”

“I hope so,” Henry said. “Do you know why she put the changing table in the hall?

“She says we need a new one,” Tammy replied. “That one is pretty beat up.”

“If she wants a new changing table she can donate one,” Henry snapped. He was certain the one in the nursery was fine. It was most likely just a case of first time grandparents wanting the finest luxuries for their little bundle of joy. The church couldn’t afford to buy a new changing table every time somebody had a baby.

Henry put a tea bag into his mug, filled it with water, and stuck it in the little microwave. He hit the start button.

There was a bang and a small shower of sparks. Tammy yelped.

The microwave sat silent, it’s digital display dark. Henry tentatively hit a few buttons. Nothing happened.

“I guess we’re going to need a new microwave,” Tammy said.

Henry started laughing.

“Why is that funny,” Tammy asked.

“Oh, just God’s little practical jokes,” he said. “You’d think if he was going to drag me out of my sick bed to come into the office to do paperwork he’d at least let me have a cup of tea.”

Tammy considered pointing out that his predicament might have less to do with God’s sense of humor than the pastor’s own procrastination. But instead she just suggested he heat some water on the stove in the kitchen.

“Nah, forget it,” Henry replied. “I’m just going to finish the paperwork and go home.”

The phone rang. Henry waited while Tammy answered it. After listening to the caller for a few seconds she covered the mouthpiece and said, “It’s Karen Winslow again.”

Henry sighed. “My throat hurts too much to argue about the changing table today. Take a message.”

Fifteen minutes later Tammy popped into his office. “Brought you something,” she said. She set a steaming mug of tea on his desk.

Henry beamed. “Thank you so much!”

“No problem,” she said. “I wanted a second cup myself.”

The phone rang in the front office and Tammy went to answer it. Henry picked up the mug of tea feeling almost giddy with anticipation. It was too hot to drink yet so he blew on it to cool it down.

Tammy poked her head back into the room. “Del’s on the phone now.”

Del was Karen’s husband. Henry wanted to talk to him even less than he wanted to talk to Karen. “Can’t they take a hint,” Henry asked.

“He insists it’s urgent,” she replied.

“Okay,” Henry grunted and picked up the phone.

“I’m sick and I’m having a really bad day,” Henry said by way of greeting. “This better be important.”

“Karen was diagnosed with leukemia yesterday,” Del said.

Henry closed his eyes. “I’ll be right there,” he replied.

He grabbed his coat and headed for his car. The cup of tea sat forgotten on his desk.

This story line will continue. For more information on leukemia, visit the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society.