Drifts

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In the town of Normal, Pennsylvania, there’s a little church at the corner of Wilson and Elm. All week long Normal had been bombarded by a late winter snowstorm, but Sunday morning the sun rose in a clear blue sky. The little church looked like something out of a painting, draped in a pristine blanket of sparkling white. Most of the congregation arrived for worship in good spirits, delighted to be out and about after so many days cooped up inside.

The one person who wasn’t charmed by the beauty of the fresh snow was Tammy Billings. She and her husband Ralph, the head usher, arrived at the church extra early that morning. Ralph was the one who had to shovel the thirty-foot sidewalk leading from the parking lot to the church entrance. Ralph was fifty-nine years old and Tammy worried about him over-exerting himself.

Ralph had no such concerns. He liked a little physical labor in the crisp winter air. “Gets the blood flowing,” he said.

Ralph had cleared about a third of the walk when Pastor Henry O’Donnell and his teenage daughter Katie pulled into the parking lot. Tammy met the pastor as he got out of his car.

“Good morning,” O’Donnell said. “I knew Ralph would be here hard at work already. You can always rely on good old Ralph.”

“Yes you can,” Tammy agreed. “But that’s a lot of snow for one man to shovel. Do you think you could give him a hand? He won’t let me because of my carpel tunnel.”

“I would,” O’Donnell said with an apologetic shrug, “but I’m wearing my good leather shoes.”

“I’ll help,” Katie volunteered. She wasn’t a fan of hard labor so early in the morning but she liked Ralph and hated to see him working when everyone else was standing around.

O’Donnell smiled with pride as he watched his daughter and Ralph shovel the walk together. I’ve raised a good kid, he thought. If more parents were better roll models for their teenagers it would solve a lot of problems in this country.

Then he looked at his watch. “How much longer,” he called out. “I have to start preparing for my sermon pretty soon.”

It was only a few more minutes until Ralph and Katie had cleared the path enough for O’Donnell to get into the building without damaging his good shoes. As the two of them stood leaning on their snow shovels and surveying their handiwork, Ralph pointed at the mound of snow they’d created and said, “what say we turn that into a snow sculpture after church? We could make a big dragon or something.”

“Cool,” Katie said with a grin.

After church was over most of the congregation gathered in the social hall where Tammy had whipped up a batch of hot cocoa in addition to the usual coffee and tea. Four year-old Mary Boyer knelt on a couch, her nose pressed to a window, watching Katie and Ralph sculpting their life-size snow dragon by the front walk.

She ran over to her father, Kevin Boyer, and tugged on his pant leg. “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” she cried. “I want to build a snowman!”

“Maybe later,” Kevin said. “I’m having some cocoa.”

Kevin’s wife, Jill, gave him a stern look. “Go play with your daughter.”

“Yay,” Mary shouted. Kevin grumpily slurped down the rest of his cocoa and took Mary out behind the church.

“Let’s make a unicorn!” Mary exclaimed. She had been inspired by the dragon to think beyond the typical snowman made of three stacked balls. Kevin agreed and they began mounding up snow to form the body. For practical purposes they would only sculpt the unicorn from the hips up.

As the creature took shape, Kevin’s grouchiness vanished. He got caught up in the artistry of the task and began to sculpt the figure into an ever more realistic form.

“What should I do, Daddy?” Mary asked.

“Why don’t you add snow to the flanks,” he replied as he carefully molded the head.

“What’s the flanks?” Mary said.

“The sides.”

Mary started slapping handfuls of snow onto the flanks of the unicorn. But she quickly grew bored of the mundane task. “I want to help with the head,” she said.

“No, honey, why don’t you make the tail,” Kevin mumbled.

Mary didn’t want to make the tail but she knew the look on her Daddy’s face. The unicorn was now his project. She decided to go make her own snow sculpture, one that would be bigger and cooler than the unicorn.

That mission was derailed, however, when she spotted a round plastic sled leaning up against the church building. Suddenly sledding sounded a lot more fun than building a snow sculpture. She took the sled over to where snow had drifted up against the church’s tool shed forming a slope just the right size for a girl her age.

A bit later, six-year-old Tyler Park trudged by Mary’s sledding slope.

“Want to sled with me?” Mary asked.

“That’s not much of a hill,” Tyler replied. “I used to race bobsleds with my Dad. We would sled down huge mountains that were really steep. We’d do jumps and loop-de-loops and everything.”

“Really?” Mary said.

“Sure,” Tyler nodded. He had a rather active imagination. “If we had a mountain around here I’d show you.”

“What about the roof of the church?” Mary asked. “It’s not a mountain but it’s pretty high and steep. If you sled down the side you could jump the sled over to the roof of the tool shed, then slide down onto the snow drift.”

Tyler studied the route Mary indicated. “I guess that would be cool,” he said. “Too bad we can’t get up on the roof.”

“Sure we can,” Mary said. “Follow me.”

Mary led Tyler around to the side of the church where snow was mounded on top of the garbage bins to within two feet of the eaves. She clambered up the snow bank and pulled herself onto the roof. Not one to be outdone by a four year-old girl, Tyler followed.

They made their way up the slope of the roof to just below the peak. Tyler stood there, the plastic sled under his arm, surveying the proposed route. It looked a little steeper from this angle and the gap to the shed was wider than he had thought.

“Well,” Mary said. “Go ahead.”

“Just a minute,” Tyler snapped. “A real sled racer plans his race carefully.”

“Oh,” Mary said, suitably impressed to know a real sled racer.

Meanwhile, Pastor O’Donnell stepped out the front door of the church with his cup of cocoa. He called to Ralph, who was at that moment sculpting the dragon’s left wing with Katie.

“I’ve been wondering,” O’Donnell said. “There’s a lot of snow up on the roof. Do you think it’ll be a problem?”

“I suppose I could go up there and shovel it off,” Ralph said.

“That would be great,” O’Donnell replied around a sip of cocoa.

When Ralph climbed up on the roof a couple minutes later he was shocked to find two children standing there with a sled. “Just what do you two think you’re doing?” Ralph asked.

“Tyler’s going to sled down the roof of the church, jump onto the shed and then slide down the other side. He’s a real sled racer,” Mary said.

“Oh no he’s not,” Ralph said. “Give me that sled and get down from here. The roof is much too dangerous for kids.”

“Aw, shoot,” Tyler responded, quickly handing the sled to Ralph. “Oh well, come on Mary.”

Ralph watched to make sure they got off the roof safely. He shook his head as he looked down at the sled path the children had planned. “Crazy kids,” he muttered.

Still, it might have worked. The shed was perfectly in line with the roof. The sled would probably clear the gap with ease. And it would then be a simple matter to ride down onto the snowdrift. Not something a child should try of course.

But, Ralph thought, I’m not a child. He looked around to make sure nobody was watching. Tyler and Mary had gone back inside for cocoa and Kevin was absorbed with putting the finishing touches on the snow unicorn.

Ralph set the sled down and hopped on. It immediately plummeted down the church roof. It made the jump to the tool shed just as planned, bouncing once then rocketing down the drift.

The bounce, however, threw Ralph off balance and the sled began to spin. The spin caused it to arc off to the left as it came off the slope.

The sled had gained quite a bit of speed on its journey down the roof. It skipped across the expanse of snow-covered lawn, still spinning out of control, and plowed right into the snow unicorn just as Kevin was fixing an icicle into place for its horn. The sculpture exploded in a shower of snow that blanketed Kevin. Ralph did two summersaults and came to a stop on his back laughing uproariously.

Meanwhile, up on the roof, Ralph’s little ride had disrupted the integrity of the snow cover. A big chunk slid off and landed in a pile on the ground. The vibrations caused a similar chunk on the other side to come loose.

Out front Pastor O’Donnell was just about to suggest to Katie that a dragon may not be the best sculpture for in front of a church when the dislodged snow cascaded down on his head. He stood blinking in shock as steam rose from the dissolving lump of snow in his cup of cocoa.

He looked down. His nice leather shoes were ruined.

Drinking Water

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In the town of Normal, Pennsylvania, there’s a little church at the corner of Wilson and Elm. Last Sunday was a big day at the church. The women’s group was having a bake sale to raise money for their mission project – providing funds to dig a well in a small village in Africa.

Jill Boyer had spent the evening before baking brownies for the bake sale. Jill’s husband Kevin and her daughters – Mary, age four, and Susie, age two – loved her brownies. But Jill was more anxious to see what the other ladies in the women’s group thought of them. For though the stated purpose of the bake sale was charitable, it was also an unspoken competition among the women. Jill knew she wasn’t adept enough in the kitchen to win this secret competition, she just hoped to put in a respectable showing.

When Jill and Kevin entered the sanctuary Sunday morning, they found a man sitting in the pew they usually occupied. He looked to be in his late forties, though his deeply tanned and weathered skin may have made him appear older than he actually was. And though he himself didn’t look particularly unclean, his clothes were old, ragged and stained; and his hair was unkempt and stringy.

There was still plenty of room on the pew – the man was alone after all – but Kevin suggested he and Jill sit across the aisle this morning and she readily agreed. The area of the sanctuary around the man proved quite unpopular. Nobody else sat in his pew – or the one behind or in front of him, either.

Seventy year-old Henrietta Miggins was the chair of the women’s group. She sat with her friend Betsy Davis in their accustomed place several rows behind the stranger. Henrietta had made three of her legendary apple tarts for the bake sale and Betsy had baked five pies. The two women studied the stranger as they waited for service to start. “I wonder how someone like that ended up in a nice neighborhood church like this,” Henrietta whispered.

“It’s sad, really,” Betsy sighed. “Bless his heart.”

Up in the chancel Pastor Henry O’Donnell had also noticed the man. Henry had not brought anything for the bake sale, of course, as it was a women’s group activity and he was of the wrong gender to participate in that way. But he was anxious to purchase one of Henrietta’s tarts. He looked forward to the bake sale every year because of those juicy, tangy-sweet tarts.

“I bet that guy’s going to want to talk to me after the service,” Henry thought as he watched the man. “He’ll probably ask for a handout or something, too. Well, he’ll just have to wait until after I buy my tart.”

Church Secretary Tammy Billing’s specialty was banana bread. She had made six loaves to sell. She was also in charge of the cash register at the bake sale. But Tammy noticed how nobody greeted the newcomer. Tammy believed that everybody – no matter how they might appear – deserved to be greeted when they came to the church for the first time. So she made it a point to intercept the man after service and introduce herself.

“My name’s Bobby,” he told her.

“Welcome, Bobby,” she said. “Would you like to join us in the Social Hall for coffee?”

Bobby said he would so Tammy showed him the way and pointed out the table for coffee and refreshments. Then she excused herself so she could prepare the cash register. She took a quick detour to the bathroom to wash her hands before joining the other women at the far end of the social hall where the bake sale was being set up.

Kevin had retrieved his daughters from Sunday school and they got in the refreshment line behind Bobby. Kevin watched as Bobby carefully plucked a single cookie from a serving platter and placed it on a paper plate.

Once Bobby had moved on to the coffee machine, four-year-old Mary reached for a cookie. Kevin stopped her. “There are two dozen of your Mom’s brownies at home that she didn’t think were perfect enough for the bake sale. You can wait for one of those.”

He got the girls some juice and carrot sticks and then went to find a pair of tongs to put on the cookie platter. As soon as he was out of sight the girls ditched the carrot sticks and helped themselves to a couple of the forbidden cookies. They were confident they would still find room for brownies when they got home.

While Jill was setting her brownies out on the folding tables she happened to look out the window and notice a tan dog lying under the bushes across the courtyard. She couldn’t make it out very well, but it appeared to be a cross between a Labrador and some kind of hound dog. She pointed it out to Tammy.

“Do you think it’s a stray?” Jill asked.

“I don’t know,” Tammy said. “I’ll tell the pastor.”

Pastor O’Donnell was standing in the line that was already forming in anticipation of the bake sale. He had rushed over as soon as he finished greeting his congregants as they exited the service. There were five people ahead of him and he wondered anxiously how many of them were in the market for an apple tart.

Tammy marched up and said, “There’s a dog out in the courtyard.”

“What kind of dog?”

“I don’t know,” Tammy replied. “But we ought to do something before any of the children go outside.”

“Okay,” O’Donnell said grumpily. “I’ll find Ralph and have him look into it as soon as I’ve bought my apple tart.”

Henrietta, who was supervising the bake sale set up, had overheard this conversation. She went to the window to see the animal for herself. It sure looked like a mangy stray to her. She spotted Bobby standing quietly in the corner sipping his coffee and tromped over to him.

“Is that your dog?” she demanded.

Bobby followed the line of her finger out the window. “No,” he replied.

“Because if it’s a stray someone’s going to call animal control.”

“That makes sense,” Bobby said. Henrietta nodded sharply and returned to her post.

Tammy announced the bake sale open for business and the tables were mobbed. In the next fourteen minutes they raised over three hundred dollars toward the African well. Jill sold three of her five plates of brownies. All of Henrietta’s tarts sold, of course.

O’Donnell cradled the box containing his tart gently in his arms and congratulated Henrietta on the fine charitable work the women’s group had accomplished. “You ladies are truly a credit to the church,” he noted.

As the crowd started to thin, Bobby shuffled over to Tammy. “Excuse me,” he said. “Would it be possible for me to get some water?”

Tammy was about to tell him that she was a little busy at the moment, but Bobby looked so meek and earnest she didn’t have the heart. She asked Jill to watch the cash register and retrieved a bottle of water from the kitchen. Bobby thanked her and shuffled off.

As Tammy was sitting back down at the cash register, Jill said, “look,” and pointed out the window. Outside Bobby was approaching the dog. He crouched down next to it and poured water from the bottle into a paper cup. The dog lapped from it thirstily.

Tammy went outside. “I thought that wasn’t your dog,” she said.

“It’s not,” Bobby replied. “According to the tag it belongs to someone named Mona. There’s a phone number here.”

Startled, Tammy came closer. Through the window she hadn’t even noticed the dog’s collar, which was almost the same color as its fur.

Tammy dialed the number on her cell phone. It turned out Mona was thirteen and lived two miles away. Her dog Winston had gone missing two days before and she was very excited to hear that he’d been found. She said she’d be right over.

Bobby handed Tammy the empty plastic water bottle. “You know, these aren’t very good for the environment,” he said. Then he went inside and bought the fourth plate of Jill’s brownies. Jill gave him the last plate as a gift. He protested, but she assured him she had plenty at home.

Mona was reunited with Winston twenty minutes later. Nobody at the little church ever saw Bobby again.

Baby Music

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In the town of Normal, Pennsylvania, there’s a little church at the corner of Wilson and Elm. Church member Carrie Winslow recently gave birth to a baby boy named Scott. Last Sunday she and her husband Carlos brought Scott to church for the first time.

Carrie was not known for her punctuality, but this Sunday morning she made sure to leave extra early. Having a newborn meant every trip took roughly three times as long as it had before and she didn’t want to disrupt the service by entering in the middle.

Thanks to her foresight, she wheeled the stroller bearing her bundle of joy into the sanctuary seven whole minutes before service was scheduled to start. Carlos staggered behind, loaded down with close to a dozen bags of baby accoutrements that together weighed half as much as a small automobile.

Young Scott Winslow was greeted like a rock star by several of the women of the church. Associate Pastor Michelle Tellum was the first to run up, squealing in delight.

Michelle was twenty-eight and loved kids. Every time she saw one her biological clock started spinning like a merry-go-round. She crouched down in front of the stroller and began making nonsensical cooing sounds.

Missy Moore, a bubbly forty-four year-old single woman, soon joined her. Jill Boyer crowded in next to them. Jill had two daughters of her own. After each was born she swore she would never have another child. But the sight of an infant dispelled all recollection of those vows and she started dreaming about how nice it would be to have another baby of her own.

Seventy year-old Henrietta Miggins passed by the crowd. She paused only briefly to note the cause of the commotion before moving on to her seat. Henrietta was not the kind of person to get caught up in the sort of rock star fervor Scott had engendered.

Carrie watched the chorus of cooing women for a few minutes. Finally she cleared her throat and said, “Well, I better get seated. Service is going to start soon.”

That reminded Pastor Michelle that she was actually leading service that morning. She rushed up the aisle toward the pulpit. However Henrietta intercepted her ten yards from the chancel. “May I have a word, pastor?” Henrietta said.

“It’s time to start the service,” Michelle protested.

“It’s actually one minute past time,” Henrietta replied. “However I think you ought to tell that Winslow girl that babies do not belong in church.”

“Oh, I disagree,” Michelle said. “Children need to feel welcome here or they won’t come back as adults.”

“Babies are a distraction,” Henrietta huffed. “When you’ve had a little more experience you’ll understand.”

Michelle felt her blood boil at the dig but had no time for an argument. “We’ll discuss this later,” she said, then dodged around Henrietta and up into the chancel.

Meanwhile, Carrie, Carlos and Scott had set up camp in the last pew on the left hand side of the sanctuary. They picked that location because that was where Carlos had collapsed under the weight of the baby gear.

The back left section of the church proved popular that morning. Jill and her husband Kevin secured seats at the right end of the pew just in front of the Winslows where Jill could peer into the stroller by leaning back slightly.

“Isn’t he cute?” Jill said to her husband.

“Sure,” Kevin replied. He actually thought the baby looked like some kind of overcooked turnip. It wasn’t Scott in particular – Kevin thought all babies resembled vegetables more than humans. But he had learned to keep that particular view to himself ever since a certain three-day argument he and Jill had shortly after the birth of their daughter Susie.

Michelle managed to get the service started only four minutes late. Scott slept through most of it, waking up just as Michelle launched into her sermon. About a minute later he began to fuss. The fussing was loud enough that Carrie thought she better take the baby outside.

Up in the pulpit Michelle saw Carrie getting up. Michelle glanced down at Henrietta who had a smug I-told-you-so smile on her face. The smile annoyed Michelle a lot more then the fussy baby.

“Carrie, you don’t have to leave,” Michelle said. Carrie looked up, startled. “Please, stay,” Michelle continued. “Babies’ cries are like the music of life. And let’s not forget that Jesus said, ‘let the little children come to me’ when He was teaching.”

Carrie sat back down and Michelle continued the sermon. Carrie tried rocking and bouncing Scott, but his cries just grew louder. Michelle increased her own volume to match. Meanwhile Henrietta’s smile grew more and more smug.

As appreciative as Carrie was for Michelle’s kind words, she thought even the music of life could grow tiresome at this volume. She started to get up again, but Michelle caught her eye and shook her head sharply. Carrie sat back down.

Scott continued to explore the power of his little lungs. Slowly the crowd around Carrie began to shift away from her, cramming into the far ends of the pews. Eighty-six year-old Donald East turned off his hearing aids. Henrietta simply enjoyed watching Michelle shout desperately into the microphone.

Michelle wrapped up her sermon early – not because of the baby, she told herself, but because they’d gotten a late start. As soon as Michelle announced the closing hymn, Carrie bolted for the door with Scott. The entire congregation breathed a sigh of relief.

By the time everyone adjourned to the Social Hall for coffee hour, Scott was happily dozing again and his entourage of admirers had returned.

Kevin collected his daughters Mary and Susie from Sunday school. They came up to the Social Hall to find Jill holding little Scott with a look of bliss Kevin had not seen from her in a long time. Susie ran up to her mother waving a piece of paper.

“Mommy, mommy,” Susie shouted, “look what I made!”

Jill felt Scott start to squirm in her arms and quickly shushed Susie. “I’ll look later. I’m holding Carrie’s baby right now.”

“Come on, Susie,” Kevin said. “Let’s go get some juice.” Susie shuffled off with him to the refreshment table, then found a spot on a couch next to Henrietta Miggins.

“Where’s your mother?” Henrietta asked sharply. She didn’t care for the company of toddlers any more than she did the company of infants.

“Holding the baby,” Susie replied. “I don’t like it.”

“The baby?” Henrietta asked.

“Yes,” Susie said.

“Me either,” Henrietta grunted.

“Want to see the picture I drewed?” Susie asked.

“Sure,” Henrietta said. Despite her aversion to toddlers this one didn’t seem too bad. Susie handed her the drawing and an unfamiliar warmth grew in Henrietta’s seventy-year-old heart.

Then Susie spilled her juice down the side of Henrietta’s leg.

The following Sunday Carrie took Scott directly to the nursery.

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

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. 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.