Ghost Bells

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In the town of Normal, Pennsylvania, there’s a little church at the corner of Wilson and Elm. Every Sunday the choir meets an hour before church to warm up. Last Sunday new choir member Audra Park arrived ten minutes late dragging her six-year-old son Tyler behind her.

“I’m sorry,” Audra told Choir Director Shane Reed. “We encountered a little problem on the drive over.”

“We saw a bank robbery,” Tyler said, “and had to help the police catch the criminals.”

“Really,” Shane asked. “You caught bank robbers?”

“Yeah, right,” Audra laughed. “Actually, we got stuck behind a fender bender. Tyler has a bit of an active imagination.”

“Of course,” Shane chuckled. “I was just playing along.” He quickly busied himself with some sheet music hoping nobody noticed the redness he could feel in his cheeks.

Audra sent Tyler down to the Sunday school rooms while she joined the choir for the rest of the warm-up.

After running through the hymns they were going to perform that morning, the choir headed back to the choir room to put on their robes. Shane watched Audra as she checked her long, silky black hair in the mirror.

Shane had met Audra when he was volunteering at the Normal food pantry on Christmas. Audra had been unemployed for several months and brought Tyler to the pantry for a Christmas dinner that was nicer than she could afford to provide at home. After hearing Audra sing carols Shane invited her to join the church choir. Audra’s lovely voice wasn’t the only reason he was interested in her. Shane was divorced.

Sixty-two year-old Del Winslow, a long time member of the choir, sidled up to Shane. “The new girl sure is pretty, isn’t she,” Del said.

“Uh, yeah, I guess so,” Shane replied.

“Single too, I understand.”

“Is she?”

“Why don’t you ask her out?”

“Um, well,” Shane stammered.

“Come on,” Del chuckled. “It’s clear you like her. And she obviously likes you, too.”

“Do you think so?”

“She’s been looking at you the same way you look at her. Go on, go ask her out.”

“Maybe after church,” Shane said.

Downstairs at about this time four-year-old Mary Boyer arrived at the classroom for the Guppies pre-school Sunday school class. She found Tyler building an elaborate city out of blocks in the corner. “Who are you?” she asked.

“My name’s Tyler,” he replied.

“How old are you?”

“Six.”

Mary put her hands on her hips. “You’re not supposed to be in this class. You’re too old.”

“I was just checking to see if the ghost was in here,” he told her.

“What ghost?”

“Didn’t you know? There’s a ghost in the church. My mom is a ghost hunter and I help her. That’s why we’re here. To catch the ghost. But it’s a secret so don’t tell anyone.”

“How do you catch a ghost?” Mary asked, her eyes wide.

“You throw salt on it,” Tyler said.

Just then Karen Winslow, the Guppies’ teacher and Del’s wife, noticed them. “There you are, Tyler,” she said. “You need to go to the Goldfish room across the hall.”

“Okay,” Tyler replied. Then he whispered to Mary, “Let me know if you hear the ghost. You can tell when it’s around because it carries a bell.”

“Gotcha,” Mary whispered back.

All during the church service Shane watched Audra and thought about what Del said. Once during the sermon Audra glanced over at him and Shane quickly looked away. His eyes met Del’s, who gave him a wink and a grin. Shane blushed.

After the service the congregation gathered in the Social Hall for coffee hour. Shane got a cup of coffee and a couple of cookies and found Audra. He made a little nervous small talk trying to work up the courage to ask her out. Del sauntered by and gave Shane an encouraging nudge in the back with his elbow.

Shane opened his mouth to suggest that he and Audra have dinner some time, but before he could speak choir member Celia Simmons trundled over. “Excuse me,” Celia said. “I have something to give Audra. I was cleaning out my pantry and found some canned fruit I’m not going to use. I thought you might like it.” Celia held out a plastic grocery bag.

“That’s not necessary,” Audra said, forcing a smile. She wished she hadn’t met Shane the way she did. She knew Celia meant well, but it was embarrassing having everyone think of her as a charity case.

“Nonsense,” Celia replied. “I know how expensive canned fruit is these days. Frankly, it’s a travesty. What these politicians are doing to our economy…”

“Thank you,” Audra said, grabbing the bag. She thought accepting the handout would be better than enduring a long political speech.

Meanwhile, across the room Mary found Tyler sitting on a couch drinking a cup of juice. “Look,” she said, holding out her hands. They were full of little salt packets. “I got these from the kitchen so I can help you catch the ghost.”

“Good work,” Tyler said. “We’d better open them up now so we’re ready when we find it.”

The two kids diligently tore open all the tiny packets and dumped the contents into their pockets. When they each had a pocket full of salt they set off to look for the ghost.

Audra might have successfully curtailed Celia’s rant about the economy, but Celia had simply shifted to a rant about the post office. Audra spotted Tyler heading out of the social hall with Mary. “Excuse me,” she said, “I think I better find out what my son is up to.”

Celia nodded and shifted her full attention to Shane. Shane watched Audra go down the hall, silently cursing himself for missing his opportunity.

And that’s when Del came to the rescue. “Shane,” he said with a wink, “I think Pastor O’Donnell was looking for you.”

“Thank you,” Shane said. He hurried after Audra as Del engaged Celia in a conversation about the sub-par performance of the city’s snowplows.

Tyler and Mary had decided the church library would be a good place to start their ghost hunt. “We should hide so we don’t scare it away,” Tyler said. Mary nodded. She wasn’t sure why the ghost would be scared of them, but Tyler was the expert and she didn’t want to expose her ignorance. The two kids crawled behind an overstuffed chair.

A few moments later Audra poked her head into the library and called out Tyler’s name.

Tyler peeked out from behind the chair. “Go away, Mom,” he said, “We’re hunting ghosts.”

At this point several things happened in quick succession. Shane had seen Audra go into the library and followed her. As he entered, his cell phone rang. His ringtone was a peal of bells, which he found ironically amusing. But Mary heard the bells and assumed the ghost had arrived. She jumped out from behind the chair and hurled a handful of salt toward the ringing. The salt hit Shane in the face, temporarily blinding him. He stumbled back, banging his head on the doorway.

“Shane,” Audra cried as he fell to his knees.

“I’m okay,” he assured her as he swiped at his eyes with his sleeve. “At least, I will be when I can see again.”

“Sorry Mr. Reed,” Mary said. “I thought you were the ghost.”

“Okay, enough playing,” Audra said. “There are no ghosts in the church.”

“Good. We must have chased it away,” Tyler declared.

Audra helped Shane to his feet. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” he replied, trying to look suave despite the tears pouring down his cheeks.

“Were you looking for me?” She asked.

Shane glanced down at the two kids. “Um, no,” he lied. “I was just getting a book.”

“Oh. Okay,” Audra said. “Well, I think it’s time for Tyler and me to get home. Come on, kids.”

Audra took Tyler and Mary by the hand and led them back out to the Social Hall.

Shane went to the kitchen and wrapped some ice in a dishrag for the bump that was growing on the back of his head. Del found him there.

“So,” Del said. “I saw Audra leave. Did you ask her out?”

“Not exactly,” Shane said. “I was foiled by a ghost.”

Del just shook his head. He simply did not understand the younger generation.

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.

Christmas Turkeys

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In the town of Normal, Pennsylvania, there’s a little church at the corner of Wilson and Elm. Earlier this year the church brought on an Associate Pastor, 28-year-old Michelle Tellum, fresh out of seminary. As the holiday season approached, Michelle was asked to lead the Christmas Eve Service. Jennifer O’Donnell, wife of Senior Pastor Henry O’Donnell, promoted the idea. With Michelle handling Christmas Eve, the O’Donnells could spend the holidays with Jennifer’s family in Denver for the first time in years.

Michelle had mixed emotions. She was honored by the trust, nervous to be flying solo for such a significant service, and sad because it was the first Christmas she would be spending away from her own parents.

Her new boyfriend, Ian Wells, addressed this last emotion by inviting her to spend Christmas with his family who lived locally in Normal. Michelle liked the idea, though it increased her nervousness. She had not yet met Ian’s parents. Spending Christmas with them would be a pretty high-risk first impression. But Ian assured her his family would love her.

Then, a few days before Christmas Eve, Ian broke the news that he would not be attending Michelle’s Christmas Eve service.

“Why not,” she demanded.

“My family has a little Christmas Party every Christmas Eve. It won’t be over until after your service starts.”

“Can’t you leave early or even skip it?”

“My Mom would be heartbroken,” Ian said.

“Well, I’ll be heartbroken if you don’t come to my service,” Michelle replied.

“Come on, it’s not that big of a deal,” Ian said. “You’re going to be doing your thing up at the front of the church. You won’t even know I’m not there.”

“I’ll know,” Michelle responded.

“I’m sorry,” Ian said. “But it’s family. You understand.”

“Oh, I understand,” Michelle told him. “But if you’re not coming to my service, then I don’t think I’ll come to your family’s house for Christmas. It would be too awkward.”

“Don’t be like that,” Ian replied. “You don’t want to spend Christmas by yourself.”

“I won’t be by myself,” Michelle assured him. Not that she had any idea with whom she would spend Christmas instead, but she wasn’t about to appear needy when Ian was being so inconsiderate.

The solution presented itself a few minutes before the start of the Christmas Eve service. She was sitting with choir director Shane Reed who was divorced and also away from his family. As they waited for the congregation to file in, he asked, “So, what are you doing for Christmas?”

“I have no idea,” Michelle admitted. “Spending it by myself, I guess. How about you?”

“I’m going to help serve dinner at the food pantry,” Shane said. “You could come along if you want. They could use the help.”

Michelle perked up. “That’s a great idea, thanks!”

The next morning Michelle woke up in her empty apartment. She sat beside the sparsely decorated three-foot tree she had bought and opened the presents her family had sent. When it was late enough she called home. The noise of a crowded house enjoying the holiday did not cheer her up.

A bit later Ian called. He tried to apologize for missing her service but she was in no mood to make up. “I have to go,” she told him. “I’m due to help prepare dinner at the food pantry.”

Arriving into the hustle and bustle of the food pantry was something of a relief. It may not have been the way she usually spent Christmas, but it was better than sitting in her lonely apartment. Shane was already there and got her set up chopping ingredients next to him. A big meal like this required lots of chopping.

As they worked their knives, Shane told wacky holiday stories about his crazy drunk uncle that soon had Michelle in tears of laughter. Or maybe the tears were from the onions she was chopping. Still, her mood had improved a lot.

Then she heard Ian’s voice say, “Hi, I’d like to volunteer.”

She turned around and saw him standing in the doorway. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

“My family got me last night,” he told her. “Today I want to spend with you.”

Michelle gave him a non-committal nod. She was touched but not quite ready to forgive him. The pantry’s volunteer coordinator, a small but energetic woman named Helen, assigned Ian to mash potatoes on the other side of the kitchen. Michelle made sure to laugh extra loudly at Shane’s stories so Ian could hear how much fun she was having.

And then a minor disaster struck. One of the two ovens demonstrated a devious knack for bad timing by choosing now to break down. Getting a repairman to come out on Christmas was not likely in Normal. They had two enormous twenty-five pound turkeys that had to cook. Only one could fit in the remaining oven and doing them consecutively would add almost five hours to the prep time. They’d be eating at 10 p.m.

“What about the church,” Michelle asked. “We have an industrial oven.”

Helen ran over and gave Michelle a big hug. “You’ve saved the day!” she cried.

Michelle, Shane and Ian hauled one of the monster turkeys over to the church and got it started cooking. “I don’t want to leave it unattended,” Michelle said. “One of us will have to stay with it. Ian?”

Ian opened his mouth to protest, but then paused. Michelle was watching him carefully. He realized this was his punishment. “Sure,” he said.

“Good,” Michelle replied. “Shane and I will go back and help get the rest of the meal ready. We’ll come get you and the turkey in four and a half hours.”

By the time people started arriving two hours later Michelle was feeling pretty guilty leaving Ian by himself in the church kitchen. Most of the side dishes were prepared, but dinner was still an hour behind schedule due to the transportation time taking the turkey to and from the church.

“We’re going to have to do something to entertain people,” Helen said as she watched the growing crowd.

“Let’s sing Christmas carols,” Shane suggested. “I’ll play piano. Michelle, you can lead the singing.”

“I can’t sing,” Michelle said.

“Everyone can sing Christmas carols,” Shane scoffed. He wouldn’t have said that if he had ever heard Michelle try.

Then a little voice wafted up to them. “My Mommy can sing.” They looked over and saw a tiny Asian boy of about six peeking in through the kitchen door.

“Who’s your Mommy?” Helen asked. Then his Mom appeared. She was pretty, in her late twenties, slim with long black hair.

“Tyler, stay out of there,” she said, “I’m sorry. Is he bothering you?”

“Not at all,” Shane replied. “In fact, he’s just volunteered you to lead everyone singing Christmas carols.”

“Thanks a lot,” the woman said, playfully rubbing Tyler’s head. Then she held out her hand, “My name’s Audra.”

Shane shook her hand, “Nice to meet you.” He turned to Michelle and gave her a wink. “I guess you’re off the hook.”

“Good,” she replied. “I think I’ll go give Ian a break.”

Ian was dozing on a counter top when Michelle arrived. “Do you have your guitar with you?” she asked.

“Actually, it’s in the trunk,” he said. Ian played jazz guitar in a local band.

“Go back to the food pantry,” Michelle instructed. “They need some entertainment.”

“What about you?” Ian asked.

“I’ll be fine,” she said.

Michelle amused herself with a book of Sudoku puzzles she had in her office until Helen picked her and the turkey up an hour later. “Is everyone starving?” Michelle asked.

“They’ve forgotten all about dinner,” Helen laughed.

When they arrived at the pantry Michelle saw why. Ian, Shane and Audra were rocking a jazzy version of “We Three Kings.” Michelle had not realized that particular carol could rock. And Tyler wasn’t lying when he said his Mom could sing.

When they finished the song Helen announced dinner was ready.

As the volunteers headed to serve and the guests queued up with their trays, Michelle snuck a kiss on Ian’s cheek.

“Am I forgiven?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said.

After all the guests had their food, Helen told the volunteers they should grab dinner as well. Michelle, Ian and Shane loaded up plates and joined Audra and Tyler at one of the long tables.

“That was awesome,” Michelle told them. “You have a great voice, Audra.”

“Thanks,” Audra replied. “I used to sing professionally, but, well, times are tough. Obviously.”

“We can’t pay you anything but we’d love to have a voice like yours in the choir on Sunday,” Shane said.

“Sounds like fun,” Audra replied.

And in fact she did one better. The following week Shane, Ian and Audra reprised their performance from the food pantry as special music for the church service. When they finished the congregation burst into enthusiastic applause.

Pastor O’Donnell leaned over to Michelle. “You must have had quite a Christmas,” he said.

“Oh yeah,” she replied smiling. “It was actually pretty cool.”

Note: I posted this story early this week so it would be up in time for Christmas. I’ll return to my every-other-Sunday schedule with the next story, which will appear January 10, 2010. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

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!!

A Tale of Two Hospital Visits

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. Karen Winslow, the sixty-two year-old Sunday school teacher for the Guppies pre-school class, recently checked into the hospital for a month long stay.

Karen had been diagnosed with leukemia. The first stage of treatment for her type of leukemia was an intense bout of chemotherapy. The chemo took seven days to administer and then three more weeks to recover from.

On the second day of Karen’s treatment, Senior Pastor Henry O’Donnell and new young Associate Pastor Michelle Tellum came to the hospital for a visit. Michelle was nervous. She had not done many hospital visits and they made her uncomfortable. On the drive over Henry gently reassured her. “Just follow my lead,” he said.

They arrived to find Karen’s daughter Carrie sitting by the bed. Carrie was seven months pregnant and really starting to show. She was making an effort to be cheerful for her mom, but Henry could tell she was worried. And no wonder – Karen looked worn and exhausted, a dramatic change from only a few days before.

The four sat and made small talk for a while, though Michelle did very little talking. She sat next to the heart monitor smiling and nodding stiffly.

“Who’s going to teach the Guppies class this Sunday?” Karen eventually asked.

Henry glanced at Michelle. “Well,” he said, “we’re not sure yet. But don’t you worry about that. We’ll find someone.”

“Can I do it?” Carrie asked. “I think it might be good practice for when this one arrives.” She rubbed the bulge at her belly.

Henry thought the Guppies, particularly four year-old Mary Boyer, would be more likely to terrify Carrie about the prospect of motherhood than offer any useful experience. But he kept that thought to himself since he really needed a substitute. “We’d love to have you,” he said.

After a few more minutes, Karen informed them she was getting tired.

“Let’s pray and then we’ll leave you alone,” Henry replied.

They all stood around the bed, joined hands and bowed their heads. “Dear Lord,” Henry began…

And was interrupted by a loud alarm from the heart monitor. Michelle shrieked. Carrie shrieked. Even Henry shrieked, though he’d later deny it.

Karen opened one eye and looked at them. “What?” she asked. “I’m fine.”

A nurse dashed in and quickly solved the problem. Michelle had accidentally pulled a cord out with her foot. “You thought I was dead, didn’t you?” Karen asked Michelle. Michelle didn’t respond, but blushed cherry red as Karen guffawed at the mistake.

After things had quieted down, Henry finished the prayer. “Stay strong,” he told Karen. “And Carrie, we’ll see you Sunday in the Guppies’ room.”

Normally Henry’s concern about Carrie teaching the Guppies would have been well founded. But Carrie discovered the youngsters were as worried as she was by what was happening to their beloved Mrs. Winslow. They didn’t really understand things like bone marrow and radiation and even the word “cancer,” but they did understand that Mrs. Winslow was very sick.

Surveying the quiet, concerned little faces, Carrie had the excellent idea for the class to spend the hour making “Get Well” cards for their teacher.

“Be sure to tell Mrs. Winslow how much you miss her,” Carrie instructed as she handed out art supplies. “And make your cards really, really happy with lots of bright decorations to cheer her up.”

The effect of the project on the children’s attitudes was so positive that Carrie didn’t regret the idea even when Mary Boyer accidentally spilled gold and purple glitter paint on Carrie’s Prada handbag. In fact, it taught her an important lesson for her impending motherhood: young children and high fashion don’t mix.

Supervising the project raised Carrie’s spirits as well. And after some discussion, she convinced Pastor O’Donnell to let the class deliver the cards to Karen in person the following Sunday – with their parents’ permission of course. She had seen how much having visitors cheered her mother up.

A week later the Guppies gathered in a small knot at the door to Karen’s hospital room clutching their construction paper cards in carefully scrubbed hands, paper masks over their mouths. Karen was very susceptible to infection at this point in her treatment.

“Hello, Kids!” Karen beamed with a wide grin. The kids didn’t respond. Mrs. Winslow looked thin and pale, and there were dark rings under her eyes. She had wrapped a bright scarf around her head to cover the patches of lost hair, but even so her appearance frightened the youngsters.

Karen tried again, summoning as much energy as she could to increase the enthusiasm in her voice. “It’s so good to see you!”

Carrie stepped in, “Kids, who would like to give Mrs. Winslow their card first?” There was a long pause. “How ‘bout you, Sierra?”

Little Sierra Smith bravely stepped forward. Karen took the bright red card and fussed over every detail. As she did Sierra visibly relaxed. And as Sierra relaxed, the other kids started to relax as well.

One by one they came up to the hospital bed to show Mrs. Winslow their cards. And Karen fawned over each one.

Finally there was only one little girl left – Mary Boyer. “Do you want to give Mrs. Winslow your card?” Carrie asked her.

Mary chewed her lip under the paper mask, considering. Finally she nodded once quickly and stepped up to the bed. Karen took the card from her and commented on the deft arrangement of star stickers, the elaborate drawings of what appeared to be penguins, and the liberal use of gold and purple glitter. The whole time Mary stood stoically at attention.

Finally, Karen asked, “Is everything all right, Mary?”

Mary considered her response. Then blurted out, “This sucks, Mrs. Winslow.”

“Mary!” Carrie exclaimed, chagrined. But Karen just laughed.

“Yeah,” Karen said. “I agree. It does suck.”

Then Mary suddenly reached her hands up across Karen’s abdomen and buried her face in Karen’s side. It was as close to a hug as Mary could manage given her short stature and the height of the hospital bed. Karen wrapped an arm around Mary’s shoulders and hugged back.

Carrie stepped forward. “Remember what I said about Mrs. Winslow being fragile right now.”

“It’s alright,” Karen said quickly. Mary lifted her head. Her eyes were damp.

“Thank you, Mary,” Karen said softly. “Your visit really cheered me up. And don’t worry. I’ll be back to teach class again in no time. Until then, you be good for Carrie.”

“I promise,” Mary said.

Just then the nurse appeared with a tray holding Karen’s lunch. As she set it on a stand beside the bed, Mary’s eyes tracked a bowl in the upper left corner.

“You get chocolate pudding?” Mary said.

“I get some kind of pudding pretty much every day,” Karen told her.

“Wow,” Mary whispered.

She gave Karen one last squeeze and rejoined her classmates. As Carrie was herding them out the door Karen called to her. “Thank you, Carrie. This was just what I needed.”

Carrie smiled. She had not seen her mother looking this strong in days. She took Mary’s hand and led the kids out.

“I wish I got pudding every day,” Mary said. “Mrs. Winslow sure is lucky.”

“She sure is,” Carrie agreed.