The Sweetheart Dance - Part II

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(This is part two of two.  To read part I click here or scroll down)

In the town of Normal, Pennsylvania, there’s a little church at the corner of Wilson and Elm.  This year the church decided to have a Valentine’s Day dance – but not everyone present was excited to be there. Senior Pastor Henry O’Donnell’s daughter Katie had agreed to do childcare, but only because her boyfriend, Alex, had dumped her a couple days earlier, killing her Valentine’s Day plans.  And Associate Pastor Michelle Tellum’s boyfriend, Ian, was performing at the dance with his jazz band.  This meant that Michelle and Ian had had to eat their Valentine’s Day dinner early and skip desert.  Not Michelle’s idea of a romantic holiday.

Michelle sat at a table with the girls who were dating the other members of Ian’s band.  They complained about the lack of alcohol at the church event while Michelle sulked and watched the couples dancing.  She was surprised to discover choir director Shane Reed was an excellent swing dancer.  He and his girlfriend Audra Park spun around the floor making everyone else look bad.  Michelle thought Ian was pretty sexy when he performed, but at the moment she was feeling a little jealous of Audra.

Meanwhile, down in the Sunday school room, Katie listened to sad songs on her MP3 player while the kids built a makeshift city out of blocks.  The Boyer sisters, Mary, age four, and Susie, age two, were there, as was Sierra Smith, another four-year-old from Mary’s Sunday school class.  Audra’s son Tyler was the only boy present if you didn’t count the baby, Scott Lopez, who was asleep in a crib. 

After a while, Mary looked up from the tower she was building and noticed tears running down Katie’s cheeks.  Mary nudged Sierra.  They weren’t used to seeing someone Katie’s age cry.  The two girls went over to investigate.

“Why are you sad?” Mary asked.

“Because boys are all big, lying jerks,” Katie said.

“I don’t like boys either,” Mary agreed.

“Good,” Katie replied.  “All they ever do is make you cry.”  Then she put her head down on the desk, turned up her music, and moaned miserably.

Mary and Sierra were not quite sure how to react.  Tyler came over to see what was going on.

“Go away, Tyler,” Sierra said.  “You’re a boy and all boys are lying jerks.”

“Take that back!” Tyler replied angrily.

“Get out of here,” Mary said.  “You’ll make Katie cry even worse.”

Tyler was not sure how he’d gotten blamed for Katie’s weeping, but he wasn’t about to let two younger girls tell him what to do.  “Make me,” he said.

Mary and Sierra immediately pounced on him.  Two-year-old Susie didn’t know what was going on, but joined in the beating out of an innate sense of feminist sisterhood and a love of hitting things.  Tyler decided maybe letting the girls tell him what to do was better than having to admit they’d beaten him up.  He dashed out of the room with the three females chasing behind.

Katie looked up just in time to see her charges escaping.  “Come back,” she shouted, but to no avail.  She quickly scooped the baby out of the crib and took off in pursuit.  Scott was not pleased to have his slumber disturbed.  He expressed his displeasure in loud wails.

Up in the social hall, Shane and Audra were taking a break from their energetic dancing.  They got some refreshments and sat at the table next to Michelle’s. 

The band switched to a slow, romantic ballad.  Michelle watched all the couples dancing close and whispering to each other and felt her jealously like a knife in her heart.  It was Valentine’s Day.  She should be dancing cheek to cheek with Ian, not sitting at a table with a bunch of whiny groupies. 

She heard Shane ask Audra if she was ready to dance again.  “I need a few more minutes,” Audra laughed.  “You wore me out!”

Michelle leaned over and asked, “If you need a break, do you think I could borrow Shane for a song?”

Audra shrugged and nodded.  Michelle took Shane’s hand and led him out to a spot directly in front of the band.  Shane put his hands on Michelle’s waist.  She put her arms around his neck and pulled him close.  Shane’s eyes widened in surprise as she pressed herself against him.

Michelle snuck a peek at Ian.  He was staring at them with a troubled frown on his face.  Michelle leaned her head on Shane’s shoulder to hide her satisfied smile.  She had finally gotten his attention.

Shane had noticed Ian’s troubled look as well.  And he’d noticed an equally troubled look on Audra’s face.  But he didn’t quite know what to do.  So he made sure to keep his hands nice and high on Michelle’s back and tried not to look like he was enjoying himself.

When the song ended, Ian grabbed the microphone and said, “Let’s pick up the pace a bit.”  He instructed the band to play an upbeat Dixieland number.

“Well, thanks for the dance,” Shane said to Michelle.

“Aw, come on, one more,” Michelle replied.  As the band launched into their jaunty tune, she began bumping and grinding around him.  Shane tried to dance in a casual, disinterested way, but he had to admit Michelle had some pretty hot moves.

Now more than just Ian and Audra were watching them.  Most of the congregation were not used to seeing one of their pastors behaving in such a manner.  Pastor O’Donnell knew Michelle was courting trouble and was about to intervene when the gaggle of kids burst through the door like a tornado.

Tyler ducked under the refreshment table and out the other side.  Mary, Sierra and Susie followed in hot pursuit.  But somehow Mary caught the edge of the tablecloth on her barrette.  This upset the punch bowl, and punch sloshed across the floor.  Michelle had just completed a little spin.  She stepped back and slipped in the liquid, falling hard on her rear.

The sight was so unexpected everyone burst out laughing in spite of themselves. Everyone, that is, except Ian.  He leapt down from the stage and ran to Michelle.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Michelle looked down at her white dress now stained red with punch and cried “No!”  She scrambled to her feet and ran out of the room.

“Go after her,” Shane said, giving Ian a nudge.  Ian took the advice.

Baby Scott’s wail announced Katie’s arrival.  She looked at the aftermath of the disaster and her heart sank.  But everyone turned out to be quite sympathetic, especially the parents of the kids in question, who generally expected them to cause trouble.  They assisted Katie in rounding up the children while Shane found a mop to clean up the spill.

Out in the hall Ian was trying to understand Michelle through her sobs.  He finally made out that she was disappointed they hadn’t spent more time together that evening.  There was also something in there about chocolate cake.  Ian thought he understood.

“Do you know why I didn’t want to order desert at the restaurant?” he asked.

“Because (sob) you needed to (sniff) set up your gear.”

“No,” Ian said, “that was just an excuse.  I spent all day making a chocolate raspberry cheesecake.  I was going to take you back to my place after the dance and surprise you with it.”

Michelle stopped crying.  “You cooked for me?”

“Yeah.  It’s probably not as good as that cake at the restaurant, but since I spent…” Ian had to table his thought as Michelle planted a big kiss on his mouth.

When Katie marched her charges back down to the Sunday school room, she got a surprise of her own.  Alex was waiting for her.  “Can we talk?” he asked.

Katie put the baby in the crib and told the other kids, “Do not leave this room under any circumstances.  Do you understand?”

Mary, Sierra, Tyler and Susie returned to their toys while Alex and Katie spoke in urgent whispers in the hall.  After a while, Mary noticed the whispers had stopped.  She remembered that Katie had ordered her not to leave the room, but surely poking her head out the door wouldn’t count.

What she saw in the hall shocked her.  Katie was kissing Alex!  “I thought you said boys were lying jerks,” Mary blurted.

Katie laughed.  “Maybe, but they’re also pretty nice to kiss.”

Mary returned to the classroom pondering this new piece of information.  She looked at Tyler who was racing some cars down the streets of the block city they’d built.  He didn’t look like he would be all that great to kiss.  But Katie was older.  Maybe she knew what she was talking about.

Thirty seconds later Tyler came barreling out of the room again, pursued by the three little girls.  He darted past Katie and Alex, up the stairs, and nearly knocked over Michelle and Ian who were making out in the hall.

“Girls are crazy!” Tyler yelled.

“Sure are,” Ian agreed.

The Sweetheart Dance - Part I

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In the town of Normal, Pennsylvania, there’s a little church at the corner of Wilson and Elm.  During coffee hour on the first Sunday in February, Kevin and Jill Boyer asked Senior Pastor Henry O’Donnell’s fifteen-year-old daughter Katie if she would babysit for them on Valentine’s Day.  Unfortunately, Katie already had plans to go out with her boyfriend, Alex.

In a small town like Normal, Valentine’s Day was a perfect babysitting storm.  Everyone with kids needed one and most of the older teens wanted to go out on dates themselves.  Kevin and Jill compared notes with some of the other young parents at the church.  Audra Park, a single mother who had just started dating the choir director, Shane Reed, hadn’t found a babysitter for her six-year-old son Tyler either.

Carrie and Carlos Lopez smiled sympathetically.  They knew who they were going to have watch their baby – Carrie’s mother, Karen Winslow, who also happened to be a Sunday school teacher at the church.

“I wonder if your mother would be willing to babysit all the children,” Audra mused.  Kevin and Jill immediately perked up.

“I don’t know,” Carrie said.  “I mean, she might if it were for a church event or something, but otherwise…”

“Maybe it could be a church event,” Kevin suggested.  “Maybe the church should hold a Valentine’s Day dance.”  Kevin was finding it as difficult to get a dinner reservation as it was to get a babysitter and this sounded like killing two birds with one stone.  Carrie and Carlos agreed it was a good idea.  They had moved in with Carrie’s parents, Karen and Del, after the company they worked for went bankrupt.  A church dance would be a nice yet economical date.

It was kind of last minute to put something like that together, of course, but when they proposed it to Senior Pastor Henry O’Donnell he was surprisingly enthusiastic.  It turned out he was having trouble getting dinner reservations as well.

Henry rushed over to twenty-eight-year-old Associate Pastor Michelle Tellum and her boyfriend, Ian Wells, who was a jazz guitarist.  “We’re thinking about having a Valentine’s Day dance,” Henry said.  “Ian, do you think your band would like to perform?  We could pay you, say, $200.”

“Absolutely!” Ian replied.  His band usually played in clubs for free drinks.

Michelle frowned.  This was the first time since college that she had a boyfriend on Valentine’s Day and she was kind of hoping for a romantic evening alone with Ian.  Spending it at the church felt a little too much like work.  She didn’t want to come off as selfish, though, so she tried to be subtle.  “Won’t that mess up the plans you made for us?” she asked, hoping Ian had actually made some plans.

“Nah,” Ian said.  “I was only able to get an early reservation at the restaurant anyway.  We’ll have plenty of time to eat before the dance.”

“It’s settled then,” Henry declared.

“Great,” Michelle sighed.

The first major wrinkle in the plan came when Henry talked to Karen about handling childcare.  “Absolutely not,” Karen said.  It turned out Carrie and Carlos had just assumed she would babysit for them.  They’d never actually asked her.  “Del and I are going out to dinner,” Karen sniffed.  “He made the reservations a month ago.”  Henry decided Del could be pretty annoying sometimes.

The organizers were in a bind.  The childcare was a key reason for the event in the first place.  Without it, many of them wouldn’t be able to attend.  It was looking like they would need a miracle to save the dance.

And then Katie’s boyfriend dumped her. 

It was all Henry could do not to jump for joy.  Alex was two years older than Katie, and Henry had never approved of their relationship.  He forced himself to wait a decent amount of time before broaching the subject of childcare at the church dance.  He figured half an hour was a suitable mourning period for a teenage romance.

Henry obviously didn’t know much about teenage romances.  Katie burst into tears when he proposed she spend Valentine’s Day watching little kids.  Henry, never particularly skilled at handling crying females, quickly offered to pay her double her regular babysitting rate.  Katie stopped crying.  There was a pair of shoes she really wanted and the gig would just about cover them.  She agreed.

The dance was on.

Valentine’s Day evening started out pretty good for Michelle.  Ian gave her an appropriately lascivious compliment on the sheer white dress she wore.  The restaurant he’d chosen was quite romantic, though the candlelight might have had more impact if the sun wasn’t still shining in around the curtains while they ate.

After they’d finished a juicy prime rib for two, the waiter asked if they’d like to see the desert cart.  He mentioned a special Valentine’s chocolate fudge cake and assured them it was quite decadent.

“We better not,” Ian said.  “I’ve got to get over to the church to set up for the show.”

Michelle looked at her watch.  It wasn’t even seven and it looked like the Valentine’s Day romance was over.  She’d spend the rest of the evening sitting alone watching Ian perform on stage.  And she wouldn’t even have the aftertaste of chocolate fudge cake to tide her over.  She sighed.

Little did she know her evening was destined to get better.  Of course it was also destined to get a lot worse, first.

To be continued…

Stung

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In the town of Normal, Pennsylvania, there’s a little church at the corner of Wilson and Elm.  One morning church secretary Tammy Billings informed Senior Pastor Henry O’Donnell that Abigail Leary had passed away.  This was sad news, of course, but Abbie was ninety-seven and had been a shut-in since before Henry had become pastor, so it wasn’t exactly unexpected.  Henry had visited Abbie regularly, as he did all shut-ins who were members of the congregation, but many people at the church had never even met her.

A couple days after Henry delivered a touching message at Abbie’s memorial service, Tammy brought him more news.  “Abbie left her car to the church in her will.”

“Just the car,” Henry asked, without looking up from his newspaper.  “No cash?”

“Afraid not,” Tammy said.  “I’ll call the donation service.”  The church had no use for an old car, so when one was donated the standard procedure was to sell it to a company that auctioned them on behalf of charitable organizations.

“What kind of car is it?” Henry asked.

“1974 Corvette Stingray.”

Henry dropped the newspaper.  When he was in high school he’d loved the Corvette Stingray more than the girl in his English class who had developed early.  But the car was too expensive for him to buy on the money he earned from his part-time fast food job, so, like the girl, he had to simply admire it from afar.  And by the time his income was sufficient, he was married with a little baby and needed something more practical – or at least that’s what his wife Jennifer told him when he suggested they buy a Stingray. 

“Hold on,” he told Tammy.  “Find out what the donation service will pay for it, but don’t sell it to them just yet.”

It turned out, for a Stingray in the condition of Abbie Leary’s, the donation service would only pay $1,000.  Abbie had stopped driving altogether when the car’s carburetor failed.  She’d kept meaning to sell it but never got around to it.  And two decades sitting in a garage without maintenance hadn’t done the vehicle any favors.

So Henry decided to buy the car from the church himself.  Jennifer was not pleased when he informed her of this over dinner.  “What are you going to do with an old car that doesn’t run,” Jennifer asked.

“I’ll fix it up,” Henry said.  “My Dad and I fixed up an old Ford when I was a teenager.  That was my first car and I loved it, though it wasn’t anywhere near as cool as a Stingray.  Katie can help me and then it can be her car when she gets her license.”

Katie was Henry and Jennifer’s fifteen-year-old daughter.  She looked up from her plate and moaned, “I don’t want some lame old junker car!”

“Do you even know what a Corvette Stingray is?” Henry asked.

“Is it, like, one of those cars you have to turn a crank on the front to start?” Katie asked.

“No, it’s not,” Henry replied.  “When you see it I think you’ll change your mind.”

But when Katie saw it she did not change her mind.  This had more to do with the car’s condition than the design.  After Henry had the Stingray towed to his house, he and Katie stood and looked at the dusty vehicle, it’s tires flat, it’s leather seats cracked, and it’s paint damaged by sun exposure.  “It’s a piece of junk,” Katie said.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get it cleaned up and running in no time,” Henry replied confidently.

Katie’s enthusiasm for working on the car was minimal at first and completely gone after about half an hour.  The biggest problem was the grease and dust.  Katie did not like to get dirty.  As the weeks went by Henry had to resort to ever-greater threats and cajoling to convince her to join him in the weekend repair sessions, and even then she mostly just handed him tools as he requested them.  And usually they were the wrong tools.

Henry struggled to maintain his own enthusiasm for the project.  He hadn’t done serious work on an automobile since that time in high school with his father, and some of the repairs required were more complex than he had anticipated.  Moreover, parts for a ’74 Stingray turned out to be pretty expensive.  Two months after the initial purchase he’d put several thousand dollars and quite a few weekend hours into the car and it still didn’t run. He was about ready to give up and sell it to the donation service, taking a loss on the money he’d spent.

And then a small miracle happened.

One Saturday morning Katie asked if they could work on the car that afternoon.  Henry wondered allowed what had caused the change of heart.

“I told Alex about it and he wants to come see it.  I guess he likes those old manta rays.”

“Stingray,” Henry corrected her with a frown.  Alex was Katie’s new boyfriend.  He was two years older than her and Henry did not really approve of the relationship.  Jennifer had convinced him that voicing the disapproval would only make Katie more determined to go out with the boy, so whenever Alex’s name came up, Henry bit his tongue and kept his mouth shut.  Still, if the kid got Katie interested in working on the car, maybe there would be some upside to Henry’s sore tongue.

Alex came over after lunch.  Henry put on his best stern father look as he shook the kid’s hand.  “How you doin’, Mister O?” Alex asked.

“You can call me Pastor O’Donnell,” Henry said.

“Daaaaad,” Katie moaned in embarrassment.

Alex seemed not to notice.  His eyes were fixed on the car.  “Awesome Stingray!” he said.  “It’s got the four speed transmission and T-top.  Nice.  You putting in the Holley carb?”

“Yeah,” Henry said, warming up to the kid slightly.  “Take a look.”  They popped the hood.

For the next four hours Henry and Alex were buried under that hood while Katie sat on the curb and texted with her friends.  At one point she suggested to Alex that maybe they should go see a movie, but he was too engrossed in the car.  She didn’t push him.  Dating a senior had made her super popular among her friends.

Alex turned out to be pretty handy around an engine.  Far handier than Henry, as a matter of fact, though Henry would not have admitted it to save his life.  As the sun settled on the horizon, they finished the last of the repairs and Henry slid behind the wheel to try the ignition.

He turned the key and the engine sputtered to life with a cough of blue smoke.  It struggled for a moment, then let loose a guttural growl.  Henry and Alex whooped with excitement and shared a high five.  Henry looked over at Katie.  She was obliviously tapping away on her phone.

“Katie, go get your mother,” Henry shouted over the engine.

“Why?” Katie asked without looking up.

“So she can watch us take your new car for its first spin around the block.”

Katie retrieved Jennifer from inside.  Jennifer was not any more enthusiastic about the impending test drive than Katie, but they both humored their men.  Henry and Katie climbed in the car, Henry behind the wheel since Katie didn’t yet know how to drive a stick shift.  Alex looked a little disappointed he wasn’t invited on the maiden voyage, but he didn’t say anything.

Henry eased the car out of the driveway and down the street.  The engine knocked and pinged a few times but it ran.  However, when they reached the end of the block and he pressed down on the brake, nothing happened.

The car shot through the stop sign.  Katie screamed, though there was no other traffic and they were only going about twenty miles an hour.  Henry kept his cool, shifted into neutral and applied the emergency brake.  He veered to the side of the road and brought the car to a stop against the curb with a painful scraping sound.

Alex and Jennifer ran down the street.  “What happened?” Alex asked.

“All the brake fluid must have leaked out,” Henry said.

“I am never getting in that car again,” Katie cried.

“We can fix the brakes,” Henry assured her.

“She is never getting in that car again,” Jennifer cried.

In the end they were all correct.  Henry and Alex fixed the brakes but Katie never did get in the Stingray again.  After a day tooling around town, Henry sold the car to a collector from Ohio and donated all of the profit to the church in Abbie Leary’s name.  Alex wanted to buy the Stingray but he was limited by the lack of income from his part-time fast food job.

For her sixteenth birthday Katie got a used Volkswagen Rabbit.  She was delighted.  Henry rolled his eyes as she jumped up and down around the car.  The girl had no sense of cool.

Hearing Better

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In the town of Normal, Pennsylvania, there’s a little church at the corner of Wilson and Elm. Recently, the church got an assisted listening system for the hearing impaired.

This was a great development for eighty-six year-old Donald East, whose hearing had deteriorated to the point that Pastor Henry O’Donnell’s deep, soothing voice sounded more like an idling tractor engine than human speech. Because of this, Donald frequently fell asleep during the pastor’s sermons. When Donald slept, he snored. And since most of those who sat near him found Donald’s snoring to be less pleasant than Pastor O’Donnell’s homilies, they were also heartened by the new system.

On the Sunday that the assisted listening system was introduced, head usher Ralph Billings clipped one of the radio units to Donald’s belt and helped him insert the little earphone into his ear. The radio unit picked up a broadcast of everything that went through the speaker system and allowed Donald to control the volume of his individual unit to meet his needs.

Donald was delighted. He heard the choir fine and clear. They were more talented than he remembered. He could hear the announcements – which was a good thing because he learned of an upcoming pancake breakfast hosted by the men’s group. Donald loved pancakes. And of course he could finally hear the content of Pastor O’Donnell’s sermon. Though he still fell asleep half way through it.

As Donald was leaving the sanctuary to go over to coffee hour, he was distracted by the sight of seventy-five year-old Betsy Davis wearing a sleek cardigan. Donald thought Betsy was hot. And he’d become so used to the earphone that he forgot he had the assisted listening unit on and walked right out without returning it.

Meanwhile, Pastor O’Donnell forgot that he was supposed to power off the transmitter after service. Not only was it an unfamiliar task, but he was preoccupied by a parental concern. His daughter, Katie, had been invited to the senior prom. This would have been fantastic if Katie had been a senior, but she was only a sophomore and Henry was not sure he liked the idea of her dating a boy two years older than her. And he was definitely concerned about what might go on at prom. He would prefer to put off thinking about that topic for another couple years. In any case, the new assisted listening system was not foremost in his mind.

After enjoying a cookie and cup of coffee, Donald found he needed to visit the restroom. Donald’s restroom visits took a while these days and by the time he came out, most everyone had left. As he grabbed one last cookie, he waved to Missy Moore and choir director Shane Reed, who were heading into the sanctuary to rehearse a special music selection for the following week.

Missy was going to sing while Shane accompanied her on guitar. Missy wanted to do a full dress rehearsal so she set up a microphone while Shane tuned his instrument. “Are you ready?” Missy asked.

Out in the social hall, Donald heard Missy’s voice broadcast through the assisted listening system. But he didn’t realize that’s where it was coming from. He looked around the empty room. “Ready for what?” he asked nervously.

Shane wasn’t speaking into a mic, so Donald didn’t hear his reply. Instead, he heard Missy say, “Do you think I should introduce it or just launch right in?”

“Introduce what?” Donald asked, beginning to feel desperate. “Who’s there?”

And then Missy started her song: Lord of the Dance.

Donald stumbled back in shock. The angelic voice that was coming from nowhere seemed to be claiming it was the Lord.

About that time Betsy returned to the social hall to retrieve her cardigan, which she’d left behind. Donald rushed over. “Do you hear that?” he asked.

Betsy eyed him uneasily. The old guy looked kind of crazed. “Hear what?”

In the sanctuary, Missy and Shane paused in their rehearsal. The music in Donald’s headphone went suddenly silent. The next thing he heard was Missy responding to some question Shane had asked: “I don’t like that,” she said.

Donald thought maybe God was unhappy he was talking to Betsy. “Oh, it’s gone now,” Donald lied.

“Okay,” Betsy said with a smile and patted him on the arm. Then she hurried out to her car.

The voice started singing Lord of the Dance again. Donald was familiar with the song, but now he listened carefully to the lyrics. He wondered if maybe God wanted him to dance. Donald hadn’t danced since his wife had passed away, and truthfully probably hadn’t even danced for a decade before that. Donald didn’t particularly like to dance, but who was he to deny God?

He started to do a little box step with an imaginary partner.

About a minute later the music stopped. The voice in his ear said, “Let’s pick up the pace.” Then it started singing again at a faster tempo. Donald wondered if God appreciated what this exertion was doing to his eighty-six year-old heart. But he danced.

Katie O’Donnell happened to pass by the door of the social hall just then on the way to her dad’s office. She observed Old Man East hopping crazily about in the quiet room by himself. When she reached the office she said, “Dad, I think Mr. East is having a stroke.”

Henry rushed out. He was relieved to discover the stroke was really just Donald’s herky-jerky attempt at dancing. He was less relieved when Donald started babbling something about God speaking to him.

“You mean you hear Him right now?” Henry asked.

“Yes, except it turns out God is a woman. She told me to dance by singing that hymn, Lord of the Dance. And now she just told me She wants everyone to be tapping their toes along with Her.”

“Dad,” Katie said, “I think it’s a sign!”

Henry thought it was more likely that Katie had been right with her first guess of a stroke. But he asked, “A sign of what?”

“That you should let me go to the prom.”

Henry really had his doubts about that interpretation. But he looked at Katie’s eager face and found his will to deny her was crumbling. “Okay,” he said, “you can go to the prom.”

“Thanks, Dad!” Katie squealed and hugged him. Then she looked back at Donald. “Mr. East, you forgot to return that new radio thingy.”

Donald pulled the earphone out of his ear. It suddenly became clear to him what had happened. He flushed crimson.

As Katie ran off to call her date and tell him she could accept his invitation, Donald and the pastor looked at each other sheepishly. “I guess it wasn’t a message from God after all,” Donald said.

“I don’t know,” Henry replied. “Did you see how happy Katie looked?”

The following week Betsy invited Donald to a dance at the senior center. She’d seen him dancing through the windows as she got in her car the week before. Turns out the old dude had moves.

Resolutions

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In the town of Normal, Pennsylvania, there’s a little church at the corner of Wilson and Elm.  Every year for the last six years, Senior Pastor Henry O’Donnell has made a New Year’s resolution to lose ten pounds.  But he’s ended every one of those six years heavier than he began it.

A few years ago he tried to achieve his goal by joining a gym.  However his busy schedule caused him to stop going after two visits, even though he’d paid for an entire year up front.  The following year he vowed to walk a mile every day, but the winter weather in Pennsylvania put a quick end to that. 

He thought this year would be different, though.  This year, he planned to work out in the warmth and convenience of his office at the church.  On his lunch break he would do sit-ups and push-ups, and he purchased a set of dumbbells so he could do some weight training.  His resolution was simply to do this workout every day.  He figured a couple hundred calories burned every day would add up.

Meanwhile, church secretary Tammy Billings had resolved not to be so critical of others this year.  Not that Tammy was particularly critical.  But she believed the best New Years resolutions were about changing one’s attitude and it was the only thing she could think of that she could improve.  (Increasing her humility did not occur to her.)

Associate Pastor Michelle Tellum made a whole bunch of resolutions.  Michelle was an ambitious young woman, after all.  One of her resolutions was to keep her desk clean.  However before she could keep the desk clean, she first had to get it clean.  This was no small chore.  It had been at least two months since she last saw any of her desktop.  The surface had been completely subsumed by an ever-shifting pile that Michelle referred to as The Mound. 

Though she was part of the digital generation, Michelle had a nagging distrust of computers, so she made it a point to keep hard copies of all important paperwork.  She also liked to jot down ideas for sermons and church activities on little sticky notes.  And she collected knickknacks.  The paperwork, sticky notes and knickknacks all fed The Mound. 

The Mound also liked to hide things – things like Michelle’s phone and computer keyboard.  Michelle thought of The Mound like a creature from an old 1950’s sci-fi movie slowly sucking anything that came too close into its belly.

So when Michelle arrived at the church the Monday after New Year’s Day, she went immediately to the main office to order a new file cabinet with which to cage The Mound.  She found Pastor O’Donnell showing Tammy the new dumbbells he’d purchased for his resolution.  Michelle told them about her resolution as well.

Tammy had some doubts about both pastors’ plans, but, remembering her own resolution, she said, “I’m sure you’ll both be very successful.”  Then she got out the office supply catalog and gave Michelle an order form.  She suggested Michelle fill out the form there, rather than take it back to her office downstairs.  After all, The Mound hadn’t been tamed just yet.

It would take a couple days for the filing cabinet to arrive, so in the meantime Michelle set about surgically disemboweling The Mound and dividing its innards into piles that would go into carefully labeled individual file folders.  As The Mound gradually shrank, its offspring spread across Michelle’s floor and out into the hallway.

Michelle uncovered several unusual things as she dissected The Mound over the next two days.  The most disturbing was the petrified remains of a half eaten sandwich that she dated back to November based on papers in the surrounding strata.  Most surprising was a necklace made of seashells – surprising because Michelle didn’t remember ever owning a necklace made of seashells.  Most valuable was a check reimbursing her for food she had bought for a church activity in October.  She smiled as she considered how great it was to find money, even if it was your own money that you simply misplaced.

Then her smile faded as she noticed the little message on the check that read, “not valid after 90 days.”  She did a quick calculation.  Today was the eighty-ninth day since the check was cut. 

She folded the check, stuffed it in her pocket, and headed out to the bank.  Tammy caught her before she reached the front door.  “Your filing cabinet just arrived,” Tammy said.

“Great,” Michelle exclaimed.  “I’m going to the bank now.  I’ll get started on the filing tomorrow morning.”

Tammy frowned.  She knew Michelle was making progress on her task, but the little piles spread out down the hallway bothered her.  She wanted them gone as soon as possible.  However, she had resolved not to be critical.  “That’s great,” Tammy said, choosing her words carefully.  “I’m sure when the choir comes for rehearsal tonight they’ll be careful not to step on your papers.”

“Oh that’s right,” Michelle said.  “I forgot about choir practice.  Well, I guess I do have one more day to cash this check.  Let’s get the file cabinet downstairs and I’ll get everything put away today.”

Getting the file cabinet downstairs turned out to be a problem, however.  The delivery people had left as soon as Tammy signed for it, and it was a lot heavier than either of the women expected.  “Maybe I’ll call Ralph to come over and give us a hand,” Tammy said.  Ralph was her husband and the church’s unofficial handyman.

Pastor O’Donnell happened to be walking by just then and overheard.  “Don’t bother Ralph,” he said.  “I’ll move it for you.”

“Are you sure?” Tammy asked.

“I’ve been working out all week,” O’Donnell said.  “Time to put my new muscles to use.”

O’Donnell had indeed been working out every day and he felt great.  According to the scale he hadn’t lost any weight, but he’d already noticed it was easier to do his exercise regimen.

O’Donnell retrieved the hand truck from the storeroom, slid it under the file cabinet, and wheeled it to the stairs.  The file cabinet was heavier than he had expected, as well.  His confidence in his improved conditioning began to waver.  He lowered the file cabinet step by step, his face red, sweat trickling down his temple.  He managed to get it wheeled into Michelle’s office, but just barely.

“Thanks so much,” Michelle said.

“Any…time,” O’Donnell panted.  “Okay…I’m going…to do my workout.”  He staggered out of her office and back upstairs.  When he reached his office, he closed the door and lay down on the floor.  He glanced over at the dumbbells, but left them where they were.  He decided moving the file cabinet would count as his exercise for the day.

Michelle immediately got to work filing her little stacks of paper in the new file cabinet.  She worked late, finally shoving the last file folder in just before nine.  By then every drawer of the cabinet was filled to near bursting.  She had to wriggle that last file back and forth to force it into place.

But The Mound was gone.  Michelle looked proudly at the clean, empty expanse of desk.  The year was getting off to a good start.  She went home to make herself some dinner.

The next morning Tammy came down to admire Michelle’s success.  The desk wasn’t quite empty anymore – Michelle had some sermon notes out, and she’d set the old expense check by her monitor so she wouldn’t forget to deposit it before the end of the day.  Still, the transformation was miraculous and Tammy told her so.

“I think I’m going to need another filing cabinet if I’m going to keep it clean,” Michelle said.  “This one’s already full.”

Tammy ran up to get the office supply catalog and order form.  As she passed Pastor O’Donnell’s office, she noticed he was lying on the floor.

“Doing your exercises?” Tammy asked.

“No,” O’Donnell replied, “my back really hurts today.  I think I better take the day off.”

When Tammy got back to Michelle’s office, Michelle was on the phone so Tammy just slipped the catalog and form onto the desk.

Later that afternoon, Tammy went to Michelle’s office again to bring her a report sent over by the district.  “Thanks,” Michelle said and set the report on what was now a small pile by her monitor. 

Tammy frowned as she realized that pile was a new baby mound, and it was growing fast.  “Did you fill out the order form for that second file cabinet?” she asked.

“Oh,” Michelle said.  “I forgot.  Let’s see, the catalog is under here somewhere…” She dug through the pile until she came across her still un-cashed check.

“Oh shoot, I’ve got to get this to the bank before it closes!” She leapt up and ran out the door, calling back over her shoulder, “I’ll get the order form to you tomorrow.”

“Yeah right,” Tammy muttered as she headed back to the main office.  “That woman will never get herself organized.”

It was the seventh day of the year and O’Donnell, Michelle, and Tammy had all failed in their resolutions. 

Which was two days longer than it had taken the previous year.