Scott's First Christmas

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In the town of Normal, Pennsylvania, there’s a little church at the corner of Wilson and Elm.  Carrie Winslow and her husband Carlos Lopez moved in with Carrie’s parents, church members Del and Karen Winslow, a year and a half ago when the company they worked for went under.  In that time, Carrie gave birth to her first child, Scott. 

In early December, Carrie and Carlos sat Del and Karen down to deliver some big news.  They were planning to go to Carlos’s parents’ house in Cincinnati for Scott’s first Christmas.  The other set of grandparents was eager to get a little time with the lad. 

Karen went pale at this announcement.  It would be the first time Carrie had not spent Christmas with her parents since she was born.  Taking Scott away as well just added salt to the wound.  Carlos…well, Karen liked Carlos but he wasn’t quite in the same league as her daughter and grandson.  Karen put on a brave smile, but the tear that ran down her cheek gave her away.

Carrie saw her mom’s face and quickly assured her they would all partake in every Christmas activity Normal had to offer until time for the young family to depart.  And she was true to her word.  She posted a special holiday calendar on the fridge to keep track of all the once-in-a-lifetime family Christmas events.  

The truth was Carrie’s plan to fill the month with holiday activities was not just for Karen’s benefit.  Carrie wanted Scott’s first Christmas to be perfect.  She had some deep-seated fear that somehow he would miss out on a defining holiday experience that would haunt him for life. However, at ten months old, Scott did not always grasp what all the fuss was about.

So Del and Karen went along when Carrie and Carlos took Scott to the mall to sit on Santa’s lap.  Scott cried the entire time.

And Del and Karen went along when Carrie and Carlos took Scott to a local farm that was offering Christmas hayrides.  Scott spent the ride trying to eat the hay.

Del and Karen also went along when Carrie and Carlos took Scott on a drive to see Christmas decorations.  Scott never looked out the window, absorbed as he was by a talking teddy bear.

Then Carrie and Carlos purchased a seven-foot tall Christmas tree that they decorated with Del and Karen in the living room on a Saturday afternoon.  Scott slept through the whole activity.

Karen dutifully recorded each of these events with her digital camera.  Among the thousand or so pictures she took, she managed to find a dozen where it appeared that Scott was actually in the Christmas spirit.  Those were printed and added to his baby book.

Carrie, Carlos and Scott were scheduled to leave three days before Christmas.  Two days before their departure, Karen set a couple of presents under the tree for Scott.  She sighed and looked at Carrie.  “I guess we won’t get to see him open these.  Take pictures for us.”

“I have an idea,” Carrie said.  “Why don’t we have our Christmas morning right before we leave.  Scott can open his presents from you and Dad then so you won’t miss out.  He can open some of ours, too…we bought him over a dozen things.  There’ll still be plenty of gifts for him to open in Cincinnati.”

So bright and early on December 22nd Del and Karen and Carrie and Carlos and Scott gathered around the Christmas tree to open presents.  For Karen and Carrie it was a bittersweet experience.  Del mostly struggled to stay awake.  The intense schedule of activities had worn him out.  Scott seemed to have a good time opening the gifts, though he was more interested in the wrapping paper than the contents.  And then Carrie and Carlos and Scott left for Cincinnati.

On Christmas Day Del and Karen woke up a bit after nine.  “It’s been a long time since we got to sleep in this late,” Del noted.

“Not since Scott was born,” Karen said with a sigh.

They ate breakfast and opened their gifts to each other.  About that time, Carrie and Carlos called from Cincinnati.  Karen did an admirable job of feigning cheerfulness.

Del may not have been the most sensitive guy in the world but he’d been married to Karen a long time and knew how she was really feeling.  When they hung up he offered to go make her some hot chocolate.  It seemed to help.

About midmorning Karen went into the kitchen to make their traditional Christmas feast of standing rib roast and rhubarb pie.  It was more than the two of them really needed, but both felt the custom especially important this year.  When it was ready she asked Del to set the table.

“Use the good china,” she said.

“Huh,” Del said.  “Another thing we haven’t done since Scott was born.  While we’re at it, maybe we should open a bottle of red wine.”

That elicited the first real smile from Karen all day.

During the meal they found themselves talking about literature and current events.  By the time they finished their pie, Del could tell Karen was actually beginning to appreciate a day with just the two of them, even if it was Christmas.

Then a jazzy song came on the radio.  “Would you like to dance?” Del asked.

“Really?” Karen said.

“There’s nobody to stop us.”  Del stood and extended his hand.  Karen took it and they danced, Del spinning and dipping her through three songs.  She laughed so hard she cried.

“Enough,” she finally gasped.  “I’m not as young as I used to be.”

“You look plenty young to me,” Del said with a lascivious wink.  “Why don’t you rest up while I clear the table.”

Del was loading the dishwasher when Karen called to him from the family room where the computer was.  “Carrie emailed photos of Scott opening his presents this morning.”

Del peeked in and saw Karen’s wet eyes as she clicked through the pictures.

“Someone needs to teach Carlos’s parents how to use a camera,” she muttered.   “These are terrible.”

Oh well, Del thought.  Grown up Christmas was good while it lasted.

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The Runaway

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In the town of Normal, Pennsylvania, there’s a little church at the corner of Wilson and Elm.  Eight months ago church members Carlos and Carrie Lopez had their first child, a beautiful boy named Scott.  Recently, Scott learned to crawl.  This elicited a variety of emotions in the young parents.

Both were of course delighted to see their child reach this milestone.  But in Carrie this delight was mixed with dread over all the new dangers her precious baby would now be exposed to.  Carlos and Carrie were living with Carrie’s parents, Del and Karen Winslow.  Minutes after Scott first pulled himself three feet forward to reach a favored toy, Carrie raced to the store to acquire two large bags of baby-proofing devices.

Del was quite amused watching Carrie spend the next few days ensuring that every corner, door, drawer and liquid was covered or locked down.  He followed her around telling stories about the trouble she got into when she first started crawling back in the days before all those fancy safety gadgets.  His intention was to reassure her that everything would inevitably turn out okay, but the tales of Carrie’s young brushes with injury had the opposite effect on his daughter.

Carlos’s delight was not tinged with anxiety so much as exhaustion.  His job while Carrie was baby-proofing was to wrangle Scott manually away from any danger.  Once Scott realized that he was now able to move about the house unassisted he took maximum advantage of the skill.  And Scott turned out to be a natural speedster.  It was all Carlos could do to keep up with him.

That Sunday the Winslow’s trooped off to church.  Del was in the choir and Karen taught Sunday school.  Carlos, Carrie and Scott took their usual place in the back pew, which had extra room to accommodate strollers.

Now that he could crawl Scott’s patience for being strapped into a stroller or car seat was extremely limited.  Once the little family was settled and the service started, he began to get fidgety.  Carlos took Scott out of the stroller and held him on his lap, hoping that would calm the little guy.  It did not.

As the offertory began Carlos allowed Scott to crawl up and down the pew.  Scott was pleased with this solution but Carrie was not.  She elbowed Carlos and hissed, “What are you doing?  He could fall off.”

So Carlos set Scott down on the floor.  It seemed a reasonable idea in the moment, but one he would quickly regret.

From little Scott’s perspective, the carpet stretched out in a broad plain populated by people’s legs and roofed by the pews.  It looked like a fascinating place to explore.  And so that’s what he did.

From Carrie and Carlos’s perspective, their baby had just vanished under the pew in front of them.

Carrie immediately dropped to her hands and knees.  But she was too slow – Scott was already three rows away.  Carrie wriggled after him, but while little Scott could easily crawl under the pews Carrie had to follow on her belly.  Even so, she banged her head several times.

Carlos meanwhile scrambled out to the side aisle to pursue his child.  He got there just as head usher Ralph Billings was coming by with the offering plate.  They nearly collided, then did a little dance to maneuver around each other.  Though the delay was only a few seconds, it allowed Scott to extend his lead by several more rows.

Carrie almost caught Scott when he stopped to investigate Missy Moore’s purse, which was sitting on the floor.  He pulled the purse over, spilling out the contents.  Missy looked down in time to see Scott crawl after a silver pen that was rolling toward the front of the sanctuary.  A moment later Carrie lunged out from under the pew, her fingers missing Scott’s heels by an inch.

Carrie felt several sharp pricks in her hands and arms.  She lifted them to discover she’d been skewered by thumbtacks that had spilled from Missy’s purse.  She looked up at Missy and asked, “Who carries thumbtacks in their purse?”  Missy sputtered, still trying to comprehend exactly what was happening down there under the pews.  Carrie didn’t wait for an answer.  She scrambled after Scott, ignoring the pain.

Quite a few other members of the congregation were startled when a baby crawled past their legs, followed soon after by a slithering young woman.  Some inadvertently stepped on Carrie’s fingers, though miraculously none impeded Scott’s progress in any way.

Once the offering was collected, the congregation stood and sang the Doxology as the ushers brought the plates up the center aisle to the altar.  Out in the side aisle Carlos had gotten parallel to Scott and could see him crawling relentlessly forward in the middle of the pews.

Carlos jogged ahead to intercept the baby.  He selected a pew to make his move just as the congregation was sitting back down.  With no time for elaborate explanations he climbed over eighty-six-year-old Donald East.  But he tripped on Donald’s cane and fell face first into Seventy-year-old Henrietta Miggins’s lap.

“While I never!” Henrietta hissed.

Carlos mumbled an incoherent explanation as Scott cruised past between Henrietta’s legs.  Carlos made a belated grab for the child, but missed.  He scrambled back out to the side aisle ignoring Henrietta’s indignant glare.

Normally the ushers left the offertory plates on the altar, but today was a communion Sunday and the altar held the bread cubes and thimble size glasses of grape juice for the ceremony later in the service.  So they took the offering plates with them as they returned to the back of the church.

Next up on the program was special music.  As it happened this Sunday’s special music was a solo performed by Del, accompanied by organist Walter Tibble.  Del came out of the choir area and stood at the front of the chancel.  At his nod, Walter began to play.  Del closed his eyes and sang, unaware that Scott had just crawled out from the front of the pews. 

Little Scott looked up and saw grandpa singing.  Scott liked grandpa.  So he headed that way.

Scott struggled up the two steps to the chancel.  Of course by this point the entire congregation could see the runaway baby.  But nobody quite knew how to respond to the situation.

As Scott clambered up the final step to the chancel he became distracted by the shiny gold trays holding the communion sacraments.  His attention span was pretty short at this stage of his mental development.  Scott crawled to the altar, grasped the crisp white cloth covering it, and pulled himself up to standing.  Standing unassisted was a skill he had not yet mastered.

Scott didn’t weigh much, but he weighed enough that when he tugged on the cloth it started to slide.  And as the cloth slid it brought the communion trays to the edge of the altar.  The congregation gasped in unison at the impending disaster.

Del heard the gasps and opened his eyes.  He knew he was a good vocalist but couldn’t see any reason why he should elicit such a reaction mid-song.  When he discovered everyone’s gaze was fixed on a point behind him, he turned around.

The communion trays tipped precariously above Scott as he wobbled, clinging to the altar cloth.  Without missing a note, Del stepped back and scooped the baby into his arms.  Then he calmly stepped forward again and launched into the next verse as Scott squirmed and gurgled and tugged at the collar of Del’s choir robe.

When the song was over Del handed the infant to Carlos and Carrie who were waiting anxiously at the edge of the chancel.  Carrie hugged Scott tightly, a tear trickling down her face.

Del chuckled to himself as he returned to his seat.  “New parents,” he thought.  “They panic so easily.”

Breakfast in Bed

Note to my readers: If you follow this blog regularly you may notice that I am not scheduled to publish a story this week. This is a special "bonus" story in honor of Mother's Day. And it is dedicated, of course, to my mother. Love you, Mom!

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In the town of Normal, Pennsylvania, there’s a little church at the corner of Wilson and Elm. Karen Winslow has taught Sunday school there for many years. And every year on Mother’s Day Karen’s daughter Carrie provides breakfast in bed for her mother before they go to church.

The tradition started when Carrie was three years old. The first breakfast was cold cereal and orange juice that little Carrie prepared with the help of her father, Del. As Carrie grew older she tried to make more complex breakfasts. However Carrie seemed to have inherited Del’s ineptitude in the kitchen instead of her mother’s expertise. After enduring rubbery, slightly greenish eggs when Carrie was eight, blackened French toast that tasted strangely of garlic when Carrie was ten, and pancakes that required a steak knife to cut when Carrie was thirteen, Karen remembered the days of cold cereal with longing.

All that changed when Carrie got her driver’s license. Unable to face her arch nemesis, the stove, one more time, Carrie instead woke up at five in the morning to drive to a bakery in the town of Tenor Falls thirty miles away. There she purchased a bag of hot, fresh cinnamon rolls.

These were no ordinary cinnamon rolls. They were buttery, flaky, melt-in-your-mouth cinnamon delights. They were the one commercially purchased baked good that Karen acknowledged as superior to what she produced in her own kitchen. Upon tasting them for the first time during a family road trip, Karen half seriously suggested they move to Tenor Falls just to be able to enjoy the treats on a more regular basis.

Needless to say the cinnamon rolls were the best Mother’s Day breakfast Karen had ever had. So the following year Carrie did it again. And thus a tradition was born. With her father’s help, Carrie managed to keep the tradition up even after moving to Cincinnati for college and after marrying a handsome young man named Carlos Lopez.

This year Carrie was back in Normal. Carrie and Carlos had moved in with Del and Karen after the company they worked for in Cincinnati went bankrupt. And this Mother’s Day would be different for the Winslow family due to an even more significant event:

Carrie had recently become a mom herself.

A few months earlier She had given birth to little Scott Lopez. Scott was too young yet to grasp the significance of the holiday, of course, but Carlos was not about to let Carrie’s first Mother’s Day as a mother go by without an extravagant celebration. When Carlos learned of Carrie’s plan to wake up before dawn and drive forty minutes each way to buy cinnamon rolls he had to intervene.

“You should sleep in,” Carlos insisted. “I’ll make breakfast for both you and your mother.”

Now Carlos was an excellent cook, but to Carrie the best part of his proposal was the sleeping in. At this stage in his brief life, Scott rarely slept more than four hours in a row. Carrie could no longer remember a time when she wasn’t exhausted.

So the next morning after feeding Scott at 5 am, Carrie went back to sleep while Carlos took Scott and went down to the kitchen to whip up a spinach quiche.

Carlos sat Scott in his infant chair on the counter while he worked. He made a crust, mixed the filling, scrubbed the floor after Scott knocked the mixing bowl off the counter, mixed more filling, poured the filling into the crust, slid it into the oven and set the timer for fifty minutes. Then he took Scott out to the living room and lay down on the couch. As a good modern husband Carlos shared equally in the childcare duties, which meant he was just as exhausted as Carrie. So whenever he had a few minutes he grabbed a quick nap.

He was awakened not by the oven timer but by Scott’s crying. Carlos leapt off the couch and scooped Scott out of his infant chair. “Shh,” he cooed to the baby. “Don’t wake Mommy up. We’re letting her sleep in for Mother’s Day.”

The cause of Scott’s unhappiness resided just where Carlos suspected it would – in his diaper. Carlos glanced at the oven timer. He still had ten minutes. He whisked Scott into Del’s den, which had been temporarily converted into a nursery.

Carlos unfastened the sticky tabs on the dirty diaper, disposed of it in a magical contraption whose inventor Carlos would have recommended for a Nobel Prize, and cleaned Scott off with a baby wipe. He was just placing a fresh diaper under Scott’s bottom when the boy decided he hadn’t quite finished what he’d started in the last diaper. Carlos sighed. This was not an unprecedented event.

And that’s when he heard the oven timer go off in the kitchen.

Carlos shifted into high gear. He quickly stripped off the newly soiled diaper. But in his haste one of the sticky tabs brush against Scott’s onesie where the adhesive grabbed onto the cotton and pulled it toward the danger zone. Carlos yanked the dirty diaper free but it was too late – the onesie was now soiled.

Carlos peeled the onesie off, disposed of the second diaper and reached for more baby wipes.

The container was empty.

Now Carlos was beginning to panic. He found a fresh container of wipes in the cupboard but when he returned to his son he discovered that for a person who hadn’t yet learned to roll over, Scott had somehow spread the mess across his entire lower body.

Carlos disposed of another half container of wipes frantically scrubbing his son clean. But Scott demonstrated his emotional bond with his father by feeding off Carlos’s frenzy. As Carlos tried to affix a new diaper, the baby pinwheeled his little legs like he was riding a bicycle. This made the task considerably more difficult. Carlos had to redo the diaper three times before it was secured properly.

By the time he ran back into the kitchen and deposited Scott in the bouncy chair there was a distinct acrid smell in the air. He opened the oven door and his shoulders slumped as he saw the blackened top of the quiche.

Del wandered into the kitchen and looked over Carlos’s shoulder. “That doesn’t look right,” Del said.

“I burnt it,” Carlos moaned.

“Maybe you can scrape the burned stuff off,” Del said. He was used to having to do such surgery on the rare occasions when he tried to make food himself.

“No, no,” Carlos replied, pulling himself together. “It’s no good. I’ll make French toast instead.”

Del shrugged and got himself a cup of coffee as Carlos started his new culinary project. Del retrieved the newspaper from the front step and retreated to the garage, which had replaced the den as his personal refuge since Scott’s arrival.

This time Carlos had finished the breakfast and had it all set out on two trays, one for Karen and one for Carrie, before Scott started crying. He checked Scott’s diaper but it was empty. This was just one of those mysterious bouts of unhappiness that babies seemed to have regularly.

Carlos covered the trays to keep them warm and took Scott back into the den. He sat in the rocking chair and rocked his son gently. Scott stopped crying after a few moments and drifted off to sleep. By that time Carlos had also fallen asleep.

That’s where Carrie found them when she came downstairs an hour later wondering what had become of her breakfast in bed. Carlos was snoring lightly with Scott on his chest. Carrie’s heart welled with love as she observed the tender tableau.

Karen came up behind her and smiled. “Happy Mother’s Day,” Karen said.

“You too, Mom,” Carrie replied and squeezed Karen’s hand.

The two women went into the kitchen and discovered the French toast, now cold and unappealing.

“Guess we’re having cereal,” Carrie said with a smile.

“Not necessarily,” Del said from behind them. They turned to see him standing in the door holding a bag of cinnamon rolls. “The kid looked like he might need a back up plan.” Del dropped the bag on the table and headed out of the room, calling back over his shoulder, “remember this on Father’s Day.”

The two mothers sat down together at the kitchen table and enjoyed their cinnamon rolls while they discussed the joys and tribulations of raising kids.

Happy Mother’s Day!

Special Music

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In the town of Normal, Pennsylvania, there’s a little church at the corner of Wilson and Elm. This week, Del Winslow was scheduled to sing a solo for the “special music” portion of the service. He was very excited. Not that this was his first time or anything. He had one of the best voices in the choir – Del thought his was THE best but was usually too modest to say so – and he had performed solos on numerous occasions.

But he hadn’t performed one lately.

Del’s life had been a little busy lately. His wife Karen had recently gone through treatment for leukemia. Plus, his daughter Carrie and son-in-law Carlos had moved in with them eight months earlier when the company they worked for went bankrupt. And immediately after that Carrie had discovered she was pregnant.

So though Del continued to sing in the choir, he had declined to perform solos for half a year due to the chaos at home. But in the last few weeks things had kind of settled down a bit and he thought it was about time he graced the congregation with a little of his talent.

Karen and Carrie would have to miss the performance. Karen was the teacher of the Guppies pre-school Sunday school class, and Carrie had been helping her with that job ever since Karen got sick. But they had heard Del practice all week and predicted it would be a goose-bump inducing show. And Carlos would be in the sanctuary to represent the family.

Shane Reed, the choir director, was as excited as Del to have him doing a solo. It was hard to get people to volunteer for the extra work of performing special music and Shane had come to rely on Del to fill out the calendar.

On the morning of Del’s performance, the Winslow’s took separate cars. Del and Karen went early in Del’s sports utility vehicle so Del could rehearse with the choir. Carrie wasn’t ready to leave yet so she and Carlos decided to follow later in their hatchback. Carrie blamed the delay on the fact that she was eight and a half months pregnant, but the truth was she’d been chronically tardy to church since she was a little girl.

As Del sang the first hymn with the rest of the choir and congregation, he heard some kind of commotion out in the pews. He stole a glance to the side but couldn’t see what it was. He shook his head at the rudeness of “some people.”

He probably would have had a different reaction if he knew it was his wife that was causing the commotion. She had hurried into the sanctuary to get Carlos because Carrie was going into labor. It had happened just as the Sunday school class was starting. Carrie was letting four-year-old Mary Boyer place her hand on Carrie’s pregnant belly to feel the baby kick.

“Wow,” Mary exclaimed. “The baby kicks hard!”

“That wasn’t a kick,” Carrie said. “That was a contraction!” It wasn’t long afterwards that Karen went to retrieve Carlos. She tried to do it quietly, but when Carlos heard the news he reacted as many first time fathers did – with blind panic. He climbed over seventy-year-old Henrietta Miggins to get out of the pew. Henrietta didn’t find that as amusing as the people sitting around her did.

Karen tried to get Carlos to calm down. She succeeded to the extent that Carlos stopped hyperventilating and avoided passing out. However she did not succeed to the extent that Carlos delivered Carrie safely to the hospital. In fact, on his first attempt he didn’t even get her out of the parking lot.

The weather in Normal that day was pretty good for late January. It was clear and sunny, but it was also cold and there was still some snow on the ground from the last storm. Carlos was normally a fairly competent driver but in his present state he hit the gas a little too hard backing out of the parking space and the hatchback skidded on the icy pavement.

Fortunately there were no other cars directly behind him. Unfortunately there was a ditch back there. Fortunately the ditch was filled with crusty old snow so the impact was gentle and the only damage was to the passengers’ nerves. Unfortunately the snow was deep enough that the car was stuck.

Carlos left Carrie at the edge of the parking lot without waiting to hear the end of her critique of his driving skills. He sought out head usher Ralph Billings for help who in turn summoned Kevin Boyer and Thad Wheeling from the congregation. By sheer coincidence this occurred during the next hymn. Up in the chancel Del shook his head again at the congregation’s rudeness and hoped he wouldn’t have to endure such behavior during his special music presentation.

Ralph, Kevin, Thad and Carlos debated how best to free the car from its predicament while Carrie moved on to analyzing the relative intelligence levels of the four men, throwing in the Guppies’ class rabbit as a point of comparison.

Ultimately it was decided that due to the terrain it would be easier to push the car through the ditch and out the other side where there was a driveway for a neighboring shopping complex. Carlos took the wheel while Ralph, Kevin and Thad got behind the car to push. Carrie watched, momentarily silenced by another contraction.

With barely any effort at all the car sprang forward and out of the ditch. And then it slid across the icy drive and into the ditch on the other side, which was even deeper than the one it had been in.

As the four men surveyed the new predicament Carrie joined them. “Excuse me,” she said. “Just thought you should know the contractions are now four minutes apart.”

Carlos started hyperventilating again.

“Maybe we should borrow my parents’ SUV,” Carrie suggested.

Ralph went to get the keys from Karen while Carlos sat on a step with his head between his knees. Kevin and Thad tried to comfort him. Carrie abandoned her analysis of their characters. There was simply too much to criticize.

Naturally, Karen didn’t have her keys with her. Ralph would have to get them from Del. At this point, Ralph was beginning to panic. He ran to the sanctuary, where, as luck would have it, Del was just stepping up to the center of the chancel to begin his solo.

“Del,” Ralph yelled as he sprinted up the center aisle.

“Oh this is really just too much,” Del said.

Ralph stumbled to a stop at the foot of the steps leading up to the chancel. Between gasps he said, “I need…your keys…for the SUV…Carlos…drove his…car into…a ditch…and they’re four…minutes apart.”

“Who is four minutes apart?” Del asked, thoroughly confused.

“Carries’…contractions,” Ralph wheezed.

Del stood there for a few seconds taking that in. Then he took off running up the center aisle and out the front door. Ralph sat down on the chancel steps to catch his breath. Nobody else seemed to know what to do.

Finally Shane, the choir director, stepped forward. “Looks like there’s going to be a change of program,” he said. “Would everyone please turn in their hymnal to page 342.” He didn’t know what hymn 342 was off the top of his head, but he figured it didn’t really matter at that point.

Del got Carrie and Carlos to the hospital in less than twenty minutes. And fourteen hours later Carrie gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. As Del held his first grandchild in his arms he softly sang the song he never got to perform at church. His audience loved it.

Movie Night

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In the town of Normal, Pennsylvania, there’s a little church at the corner of Wilson and Elm. Senior Pastor Henry O’Donnell is always looking for program activities that will appeal to the younger members of the congregation. One of his recent ideas was to have a “Day at the Movies” on a Sunday afternoon at the local multiplex.

The film the pastor chose was “Stock Car Cat,” a family comedy about a cat that learned to drive racecars. Several people quickly signed up, however most were older than the teen and young adult crowd O’Donnell was aiming for. As the deadline approached for him to order the group tickets, he asked his fifteen-year-old daughter Katie if she was going.

“Do I have to?” Katie asked.

“Of course not,” Pastor O’Donnell said. “You could always stay home and clean your room instead. I know your mother’s been bugging you to do that for weeks now.”

“Get me a ticket,” Katie grumbled.

The group met for lunch in the mall food court before the movie. In addition to Pastor O’Donnell and Katie, the “Little Old Ladies” were in attendance. This was the nickname for three of the senior members of the congregation: Henrietta Miggins, Celia Simmons and Betsy Davis. Church Secretary Tammy Billings and her husband, head usher Ralph Billings, were also present; and Carlos Lopez and his eight-months-pregnant wife Carrie completed the little group.

Despite just having eaten, the first thing the moviegoers did upon arriving at the theater was head for the concession stand. The place was crowded and the lines long. Katie ended up at the back of their group. Three teenage boys fell in behind her. Katie snuck a peek back at them. They weren’t from her school…but they were cute!

At the front of the line Carlos and Carrie had just completed their order. Tammy and Ralph Billings were next up.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” Ralph asked.

“Oh, let me see…” Tammy said. She began studying the concession menu as the cashier feigned patience. “Oh my, everything’s so expensive!” Tammy exclaimed. “What’s the difference between a small and a medium soda?”

As Tammy questioned the cashier at length about the various menu items, another line opened up. The three teenage boys quickly rushed over to it. Katie decided to follow.

“Hey, let her go first,” the cutest of the boys said. “She was ahead of us in the other line.”

“Thanks,” Katie replied.

“Isn’t it annoying when people don’t decide what they want until they get up to the counter,” he asked her.

“Yeah,” she laughed.

“So what’ll it be,” the new cashier said.

“Uh…” Katie realized she didn’t know what she wanted. But she dared not spend time perusing the menu. “Medium popcorn and medium soda,” she blurted out.

As the cashier went to retrieve her concessions, Katie turned back to the boys. “So what are you seeing?”

“Stock Car Cat,” Cute Boy said. “What about you?”

“Same thing,” Katie replied. Normally she would have considered the fact that the cute boy was going to the same movie as her to be a romantic sign straight from cupid. But as she glanced over at the other line and saw her father arguing with the cashier about not putting enough fake butter on his popcorn she kind of wished the boys had picked an action movie. Why were teenage boys going to a family comedy, anyway?

The cashier brought her refreshments and Katie paid. “Well,” she said to the boys, “guess I’ll see you in there.”

“My name’s Todd,” Cute Boy said.

“Katie,” she replied, feeling herself blush a little.

“Katie, come on!” she heard her father shout. She felt her blush deepen. She turned and saw the church group waiting by the theater door. Her father waved wildly at her. She walked over forcing herself not to look back at the boys. She imagined they were laughing uproariously and she didn’t particularly want to see that.

“Cute boys,” Carrie Lopez said. “Do you know them?”

“No,” Katie mumbled.

“You’re better off,” Henrietta Miggins snorted. “They look like hoodlums. Someone ought to tell them it’s rude to wear baseball caps inside.”

“Please don’t, Mrs. Miggins,” Katie said.

“You should invite them to join us,” Carrie said with a wink.

“Wait a minute,” Pastor O’Donnell interjected. “Who are these boys?”

“Forget it, Dad,” Katie hissed. “Let’s just get our seats.”

Finding seats turned out to be a complex problem. Not because the theater was full, but because nobody could agree on what area of the theater was preferable.

The Little Old Ladies wanted to sit toward the back. Carlos, who fancied himself a movie connoisseur, wanted to sit in the middle where the picture and sound were best. Carrie protested that she needed to sit on the aisle since she had to use the restroom roughly every forty-five minutes in her condition. Ralph Billings favored sitting close to the screen since he’d forgotten his glasses. As they were arguing other moviegoers kept taking people’s preferred seats. Finally they compromised on a location about two thirds of the way back and a bit left of center.

Katie quickly slumped down in her chair as the three boys from the concession line entered and took spots in the second row. Despite her best attempts to hide Todd saw her and gave her a little smile.

Carrie leaned across Carlos and said, “Did you see that? I think he likes you.”

“I highly doubt that,” Katie sighed.

“Why don’t you go see if they want to join us,” Carrie persisted.

“And invite them to come to youth group,” Tammy added helpfully.

“Maybe I ought to meet these boys,” Pastor O’Donnell muttered.

To Katie’s relief, Henrietta leaned over from the row behind them and poked the pastor on the arm, derailing the conversation.

“Pastor, why did you choose such an expensive theater,” Henrietta groused.

“What are you talking about?” O’Donnell replied. “This is a normal theater. This is what movie tickets cost.”

“Really?” Henrietta gasped. “That’s appalling. In my day a person could go to the movies and get refreshments for less than a dollar. A small soda here costs more than twice that!”

“They had real movie stars back then, too,” Betsy chimed in. “Cary Grant and Bob Hope. Men who had style and grace and charisma, not like the scruffy boys they put on screen these days, bless their hearts. Who’s in this movie, anyway?”

“I think the cat’s the star,” O’Donnell volunteered. The Little Old Ladies huffed their disgust in unison.

“It’ll probably be full of swearing and sex,” Celia moaned.

“Hollywood has gone to the dogs, alright,” Henrietta concluded as the lights came down.

If Katie hoped that was the end of her embarrassment, she was immediately disappointed.

As the first preview started, Henrietta shouted, “Why is it so loud? Turn it down!”

A moment later Pastor O’Donnell’s cell phone rang. “Oh Jeez,” he said. “Sorry, I forgot to turn it off.” He fumbled around trying to find the phone in the pocket of his coat. He finally got it out after only six rings, but spilled his popcorn in the process.

“Dang it,” he said, as he opened the phone. “I can’t really talk now,” he told the caller. “I’ll call you back.”

“Why didn’t you just hit the volume button on the side to silence it?” Katie hissed.

“It does that?” he replied studying the phone like some alien artifact. Katie rolled her eyes at her father’s lack of technical sophistication. O’Donnell didn’t notice. He was now looking down at his spilled popcorn. “Do you think they’ll refill this for me?” he wondered.

“I don’t know,” Katie moaned as the surrounding patrons cast annoyed glances their way.

“I’m going to find out,” O’Donnell said and shuffled to the aisle, eliciting a yelp from Carrie when he stepped on her foot.

“Tell them to turn it down while you’re out there!” Henrietta shouted after him.

The previews were over and the movie started. Maybe now everyone would finally be quiet, Katie thought. But her optimism was soon dashed yet again.

In the middle of the first scene, Henrietta leaned over to Celia and asked, “What did he say?” in a voice that was louder than the movie’s dialogue.

“He told his son he can’t have a cat because he’s allergic,” Celia responded.

“Oh,” Henrietta said. “And what did the kid say?”

“I don’t know,” Celia replied, “I was talking to you.”

Just then Pastor O’Donnell came back with a new tub of popcorn. “Excuse me, excuse me,” he said as he made his way back to his seat, somehow managing to step on Carrie’s foot again.

“Sit down, Pastor,” Henrietta said. “I can’t see.”

“SHHHH!” The reprimand came from the second row. Todd and his two friends were looking back at the group angrily. Katie sunk so low in her seat she could no longer see the screen.

“Well I never,” Henrietta grumbled. “Teenage boys these days are so rude.”

“What did the racecar driver just say?” Celia asked.

As Betsy repeated the line, Katie decided that next time the church did a ‘Day at the Movies’ she was going to stay home and clean her room.

Some Like Hot Tamales

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. The Winslow family are cornerstone members of the church. Del Winslow sings in the choir, Karen Winslow teaches the Guppies pre-school Sunday school class, and their daughter Carrie recently married her husband Carlos in the church.

Every Christmas since she and Del were first married Karen has made a special meal for the family – standing rib roast and rhubarb pie. But this year that tradition was threatened when Karen was diagnosed with leukemia. She had been in the hospital for a month for chemotherapy and wasn’t scheduled to be released until Christmas Eve.

That month was rough on Del. The holiday season was always a busy time of year, of course, and with his wife in the hospital Del had to add a considerable amount of housework to his usual chores. Then there were the hours he spent each day by Karen’s bedside and more hours on the phone arguing with an uncooperative insurance company…not to mention the emotional toll. As Christmas approached Del was nearly as exhausted as Karen.

The entire Winslow family was gathered in Karen’s hospital room playing a game of Hearts on a Sunday afternoon when the subject of Christmas dinner came up.

“I’m so glad you’ll be home for Christmas, Mom,” Carrie said as she returned from the bathroom. Carrie was seven months pregnant and it seemed like she was always either coming or going from the bathroom.

“Yeah,” Dell added, “It’ll be nice to have the whole family around our dining table again enjoying your famous rib roast.”

The room got quiet. “I don’t think I’m going to be well enough to make dinner this year, dear,” Karen said.

“Oh,” Del replied, his face reddening. “No, of course not. Well, maybe Carrie and I can do it then.”

Karen laughed. Del’s occasional ventures into the kitchen usually proved disastrous and had even summoned the fire department on two occasions. And Carrie had given up trying to cook anything that didn’t come from a can or a take-out container long ago.

“What if I made dinner,” Carlos said. It was not a crazy idea. He had cooked regularly for Carrie and himself before they were forced to move in with Del and Karen after the younger couple were both laid off.

“Do you know how to make a standing rib roast?” Del asked hopefully.

“No,” Carlos replied, “but my family has a traditional Christmas dinner as well. Tamales.”

“Tamales,” Del repeated. It didn’t sound very Christmas-y to him.

“It’s actually the custom in Mexico,” Carlos explained. “At Christmas time the women of the family spend several days sitting around making tamales and talking. My family continued the tradition when I was growing up in Cincinnati and I often helped. It’s easy. We can make them together.”

“That’s a great idea!” Carrie exclaimed. “You’re part of our family now. This will be an opportunity to combine our traditions.”

Del sat quietly. He knew Karen couldn’t cook a big dinner her first day out of the hospital. He certainly didn’t want to stress her out in her fragile condition. But his tradition was standing rib roast and rhubarb pie and with everything going on he really craved something traditional. He didn’t think Tamales were going to cut it.

It was an especially joyous Christmas Eve morning when Del brought Karen home from the hospital. Carlos and Carrie had decorated the living room with a “welcome home” banner and bouquets of flowers. And Carlos had prepared the kitchen and dining room table for a tamale making assembly line.

Karen was delighted. She watched eagerly as Carlos explained the process. First, they would cook the filling. Carlos had purchased a variety of meats and spices. He and Carrie thought it would be fun to experiment so they included many non-traditional ingredients such as hoison sauce for Asian flavored tamales.

Once the fillings were ready they would spread Masa on cornhusks, put the filling into it, and fold the tamale. They would then steam the tamales on Christmas day just before eating.

“This looks fun,” Karen said. “Let’s get started!”

“You guys enjoy,” Del said. “I’m a little tired. I think I’m just going to read a book.”

“But Daddy,” Carrie pleaded, “It’s supposed to be a family activity.”

“If he doesn’t want to participate he doesn’t have to,” Karen said. “Go read your book, Sweetie. You’ve been doing a lot for us lately. You deserve some time to yourself.”

Del settled into his recliner in the living room with the latest spy novel he’d gotten from the library while Carrie and Carlos set about cooking the meat. Karen mostly sat on a stool and observed, just happy to be back in her own kitchen.

After they finished cooking the fillings they moved to the dining room table for the assembly process. They talked and laughed and listened to Christmas carols on the radio as they made their tamales with all the creative seasonings they could think of.

About ten minutes into the process Del passed through. “Just getting something to drink,” he said. He filled a glass of water in the kitchen and then stopped to observe for a few minutes.

“That’s a lot of tamale stuff you’ve got there. It’s going to take you hours to make them all.”

“That’s part of the fun,” Carlos said. “You want to try a couple?”

“No, no. I’m enjoying my book,” Del replied and returned to the living room.

A bit later a roar of laughter erupted from the dining room. Del popped in again.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“Carlos was just telling us a story about when he got a fishing pole for Christmas and hooked his own ear the first time he used it,” Carrie explained.

“Sounds hilarious,” Del said.

“Did you finish your book?” Karen asked.

“No, just taking a bathroom break.”

About ten minutes later he poked his head in a third time. “How’s it going,” he asked.

“I keep tearing the husks,” Carrie grumbled as she tried to carefully fold a tamale filled with shredded beef and marinara sauce.

“Maybe it would help if you used a little less filling,” Del suggested.

“They’re just so fragile,” Carrie said.

“Let me try one.” Del sat down. Carlos demonstrated the process for him. Del picked up a husk, spread the Masa on it, plopped in a little shredded chicken with honey mustard and a sprinkling of cayenne pepper and folded it up.

“Nicely done,” Carlos said. Carrie made a face at him.

Del grabbed another husk.

“I thought you wanted to read your book,” Carrie muttered.

“If you want to get all these assembled before Christmas Eve service at church I think I better help,” Del replied.

He made a barbecue pork tamale next, singing along with “Christmas Blues” playing on the radio. Karen watched him with a little smile.

Two hours later the four of them surveyed the mass of tamales they’d made. They were grouped into a dozen bowls by filling. It wasn’t quite enough to feed an army but it might have satisfied a small platoon.

“We’ll never eat all that,” Del said.

“I’m sure they’ll be put to good use,” Carlos replied.

That use became apparent the next day when visitor after visitor stopped by to welcome Karen home. Each was given a couple of hot tamales. Most asked for seconds.

During a quiet moment in the middle of the afternoon Karen sidled up to Del and took his hand. “I know tamales aren’t our tradition,” she said. “But I think we have to get used to the idea that things are changing for our family. Next Christmas there’s going to be a little baby dining with us.”

“I know I wasn’t on the tamale band wagon at first,” Del said, “But I’m beginning to see the advantages of that custom.”

Then the doorbell rang. It was Ralph and Tammy Billings. Tammy brought a gift – a homemade rhubarb pie.

“How did you know?” Del asked, delighted.

“A little birdie,” Tammy replied. Then Carlos handed Tammy a large bag of tamales that he had set aside earlier.

“Your son-in-law is a very thoughtful young man,” Tammy told Del.

“Yes he is,” Del said. He slid his arm around Karen. This was very possibly the best Christmas of his life, Del decided.

Want to make your own unusual tamales? Check out http://www.douglasjeboch.com/Tamales.htm for recipes and ideas.

And watch for a special Christmas Day Little Church story next! Happy Holidays!!

Sunscreen

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. The church has a softball team called the “Miracles” that plays in the Normal Interdenominational Summer Softball League. Del Winslow plays first base, the same position he played on his college intramural team. Of course Del’s college days are quite a few years and quite a few pounds behind him.

The softball season was approaching and choir director Shane Reed, who coached the team, discovered he had a hole to fill. The outfield was made up of Pastor O’Donnell, his daughter Katie and her friend Tabitha. Kevin Boyer pitched and Missy Moore was the catcher. Shane handled second, Thad Wheeling was at shortstop and the previous year Katie’s boyfriend Joe had played third. But Joe had bowed out this year because he had taken up another sport: stock car driving. Actually, it was a video game about stock car driving, but it occupied much of his weekends.

Shane was telling Del about his dilemma at coffee hour after church when Del’s daughter Carrie and her new husband, Carlos Lopez, joined them. Carlos and Carrie had moved in with Del and his wife, Karen, after the company the younger couple worked for went out of business. Del was not particularly pleased with the arrangement, but it didn’t look like it was going to change anytime soon. Carlos had decided to go back to school to get his MBA and Carrie had just discovered she was pregnant.

“I’ll play,” Carlos said, upon learning of the open slot. “I was on the company softball team back in Cincinnati.”

“Carlos!” Carrie exclaimed, “You don’t have time for softball. You have so much studying to do, not to mention getting ready for the baby.”

“She has a point,” Del said. He already saw more of Carlos than he wanted at home. He was looking forward to softball as a nice break from his domestic situation.

“But Sweetie,” Carlos protested to his bride, “it will be a good way to get some exercise. You don’t want me to get fat, do you?”

“It’s only one practice and one game a week,” Shane interjected hopefully. “And the season will be well over before you have your baby.

“Well… I guess,” Carrie said. “But you would have to promise to quit if it interferes with school.”

“Yes!” Carlos yelled and high-fived Shane. The two were grinning ear to ear. Carrie grimaced. Del forced a smile, but he kind of wished his daughter had stuck to her guns.

Shane had no such doubts as he put the team through their paces at the first practice. Carlos turned out to be not just a competent fielder, but also an excellent power hitter. Kevin was no slouch as a pitcher yet Carlos routinely pounded his throws over the low chain link fence that served as an outfield wall at the Normal Public Athletic Fields. The whole team was quietly beginning to think that, unlike last year, they might actually get more than one win this season.

The day of the first game arrived. Del waited impatiently for Carlos in the foyer. “Carlos,” he yelled, “come on. Time to go.”

“I’m ready,” Carlos said as he jogged downstairs.

Karen poked her head in from the living room. “Don’t forget sunscreen,” she said.

“It’s in my bag,” Del replied.

“Wait up,” Carrie called from the top of the stairs. She had a big purse slung over her shoulder and was wearing a floppy hat to keep the sun off her face.

“Where are you going, Sweetie?” Carlos asked.

“To the game,” Carrie replied. “You don’t expect me to sit home while you’re out having fun, do you?”

“But… you know you can’t play,” Carlos said carefully. “I mean you didn’t go to practice.”

“I’m not going to play, Dummy,” she told him. “I’m going to watch. That’s allowed, right?

Neither Carlos nor Del could think of a reason it wouldn’t be. The three of them piled into the car and headed for the field. “Did you put on sunscreen,” Carrie asked her husband.

“No,” Carlos replied.

“There’s some in my bag,” Del said with a chuckle. He was thinking his daughter was a lot like her mother. Carrie retrieved the lotion for Carlos.

“You want some?” Carlos asked Del.

“I’ll put it on when we get there,” he said.

The game – against a Baptist team called the Commandments – was a nail biter. Carrie had brought a book to read – she wasn’t really a fan of sports, she’d mostly gone along to make a point – but by the fourth inning the book sat forgotten beside her on the bleachers as she became more and more caught up in the action.

Going into the bottom of the final inning the Commandments were ahead 7-6 but the Miracles had one last chance at bat. Thad Wheeling was up first. After watching a ball, he took a good cut at the second pitch and popped one up to left field. Unfortunately the left fielder was on her toes and caught the ball for the Miracle’s first out.

Next came Kevin Boyer. Kevin managed to hit a nice tweener over the second baseman for a double, putting the tying run on second and bringing Carlos to the plate with Del on deck.

Del swung a pair of bats idly, loosening up his shoulders, as he watched Carlos step up to the plate. Carrie yelled encouragement from the stands. She couldn’t see what Del could – Carlos was blinking rapidly. Del realized Carlos was sweating sunscreen into his eyes.

Carlos managed to make contact with the first two pitches but sent them both foul, giving him two strikes. Del started warming up more seriously. It looked like it would be up to him to win this thing.

Then on the next pitch Carlos took a perfect swing and hit the ball a good ten yards out of the park.

The team went wild, everyone mobbing Carlos at home plate as he came around to score the winning run. Everyone, that is, except Del, who was busy putting the warm-up bats away. The game was over and he had just missed an opportunity to be a hero.

Carlos and the crowd of players congratulating him headed for the dugout where Del and Carrie were waiting. “We won!” Shane exclaimed. “We’re actually undefeated. Admittedly, we’ve only played one game, but still!”

“We should celebrate,” Carlos said. “Anyone want to join me for a beer?”

Del and Carrie simultaneously opened their mouths to object, then simultaneously closed them again as the rest of the team gave a hearty endorsement to Carlos’s plan.

They went to a nearby pizza place and spread out across several tables. Katie and Tabitha, being teenagers, got sodas and huddled on the other side of the room from away from the un-cool adults. Kevin, Shane, Thad and Carlos gathered around one table while Missy and Carrie settled at a smaller adjacent table. That left Del and Pastor O’Donnell at a table a short ways away. Though Del enjoyed the pastor’s company well enough, he felt a little put out at not being included with the younger men.

“First round is on me!” Carlos shouted. The guys at Carlos’s table cheered that news enthusiastically.

“He can’t afford to pay rent but he’s buying drinks,” Del grumbled to O’Donnell, who was preoccupied with the menu and simply grunted in reply.

Del watched as the waitress brought a pitcher of beer to the other table. Carlos filled the other men’s mugs. But Carrie leapt up to stop him before he could fill his own.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Carlos asked.

“Are you really going to drink beer in front of your pregnant wife who can’t?” she asked.

“But…everyone else is.”

“Good point. Go ahead, then.”

Carlos was inexperienced at marriage, but he sensed a trap. He glanced at the other men. They were all apparently fascinated by something going on out the window since none of them met his gaze. Carlos looked to see what was so interesting but the street outside was empty.

“Can you bring me a cup for soda,” Carlos called to the waitress meekly.

“Poor guy,” O’Donnell said through a mouthful of hot wing. “I remember how Jennifer was when she was pregnant with Katie.” Del just nodded thoughtfully.

Later that evening, Del poked his head into the kitchen where Carlos was studying at the breakfast table. “Come with me,” Del said.

“Where?” Carlos asked.

“Just come.”

Carlos followed Del out to the garage. Del pulled a cooler off the shelf and opened it. To Carlos’s surprise, it held a six-pack of beer surrounded by ice. Del tossed a beer to Carlos.

“Karen didn’t like me drinking around her when she was pregnant either,” Del said. “So I used to sneak out here to have a beer every once in a while.”

“Clever,” Carlos said as he took a hearty swig and savored the taste. “Do you maybe have a tip on how to keep Carrie from spending all our money on baby clothes?”

“Sorry,” Del said. “She’s just like her mother that way as well. Hey, that was quite a hit you made to end the game today.”

“It was pure luck. Sunscreen ran in my eyes and I couldn’t see a thing. I was swinging blind.”

“I know,” Del said. “That’s what was so impressive.”

“Hey, you’re looking a little pink,” Carlos observed. “Did you ever put sunscreen on?”

“Shut up,” Del replied.

And the two men spent the next couple hours drinking beer, talking sports, and hiding from their wives.