The brand new pastor and his wife, newly assigned to their first ministry
to reopen a church in suburban Brooklyn, arrived in early October excited
about their opportunities. When they saw their church, it was very run
down and needed much work. They set a goal to have everything done in time
to have their first service on Christmas Eve.
They worked hard, repairing pews, plastering walls, painting, etc., and
on December 18 were ahead of schedule and just about finished. On December
19, a terrible tempest -- a driving rainstorm -- hit the area and lasted
for two days.
On December 21, the pastor went over to the church. His heart sank when
he saw that the roof had leaked, causing a large area of plaster about
20 feet by 8 feet to fall off the front wall of the sanctuary just behind
the pulpit, beginning about head high. The pastor cleaned up the mess on
the floor, and not knowing what else to do but postpone the Christmas Eve
service, headed home. On the way, he noticed that a local business was
having a flea market type sale for charity, so he stopped in.
One of the items was a beautiful, handmade, ivory colored, crocheted tablecloth
with exquisite work, fine colors and a Cross embroidered right in the center.
It was just the right size to cover up the hole in the front wall. He bought
it and headed back to the church.
By this time, it had started to snow. An older woman running from the
opposite direction was trying to catch the bus. She missed it. The pastor
invited her to wait in the warm church for the next bus 45 minutes later.
She sat in a pew and paid no attention to the pastor while he got a ladder,
hangers, etc., to put up the tablecloth as a wall tapestry. The pastor
could hardly believe how beautiful it looked, and it covered up the entire
problem area.
Then he noticed the woman walking down the center aisle. Her face was
like a sheet. "Pastor," she asked. "Where did you get that tablecloth?"
The pastor explained. The woman asked him to check the lower right corner
to see if the initials EBG were crocheted into it there. They were. These
were the initials of the woman, and she had made this tablecloth 35 years
before, in Austria.
The woman could hardly believe it as the pastor told how he had just gotten
the tablecloth. The woman explained that before the war, she and her husband
were well-to-do people in Austria. When the Nazis came in, she was forced
to leave. Her husband was going to follow her the next week. She was captured,
sent to prison and never saw her husband or her home again. The pastor
wanted to give her the tablecloth, but she made the pastor keep it for
the church. The pastor insisted on driving her home. That was the least
he could do. She lived on the other side of Staten Island and was only
in Brooklyn for the day for a housecleaning job.
What a wonderful service they had on Christmas Eve. The church was almost
full. The music and the spirit were great. At the end of the service, the
pastor and his wife greeted everyone at the door and many said that they
would return. One older man, whom the pastor recognized from the neighborhood,
continued to sit in one of the pews and stare, and the pastor wondered
why he wasn't leaving. The man asked him where he got the tablecloth on
the front wall, because it was identical to one that his wife had made
years ago when they lived in Austria before the war. And how could there
be two tablecloths so much alike?
He told the pastor how the Nazis came, how he forced his wife to flee
for her safety, and he was supposed to follow her, but he was arrested
and put in a prison. He never saw his wife or his home again all the 35
years in between.
The pastor asked him if he would allow him to take him for a little ride.
They drove to Staten Island and to the same house where the pastor had
taken the woman three days earlier. He helped the man climb the three flights
of stairs to the woman's apartment, knocked on the door, and he saw the
greatest Christmas reunion he could ever imagine.
- Author Unknown -
Copyright (c) by Rusti since 2002
All Rights Reserved
Please sign my Guestbook before your leave.
I'd love to know that you stopped by.
Don't look for inspiration . BE the inspiration!