Saints Among Us

by Anne Marie Rodgers

  “Where would you have it?” Jane asked.

  “In the Assembly Room at the chapel. I’ve already pitched the idea to the Seniors Social Circle and they liked it although they got a bit overwhelmed thinking about how to implement it.”

  “So you would chair it?” Alice asked. Heaven knew Ethel could organize a litter of kittens to walk in a straight line. However, she never would be listed on a Top Ten Tactful People list, and the potential for problems was a concern.

  Ethel nodded.

  “When would you have the first one?”

  “Sometime next fall. I was thinking October, around the harvest season.”

  Louise shook her head. “Everyone and his brother have craft shows while the weather is mild in September and October. Hold it the first Saturday in December, and market it as an opportunity to pick up hand-made gifts and Christmas goodies. That’s sure to be successful.”

  Ethel sat up straighter. “That’s a wonderful idea. If we do that, we could have one this year!”

  There was another silence around the table as the three younger women realized they really had heard their aunt correctly.

  Jane’s eyes were wide as she asked, “Don’t you think that’s a bit…ambitious, Aunt Ethel? The first week in December is only a month away!”

  “Yes,” said Louise. “I really don’t think’”

  “Oh, nonsense,” said Ethel in a robust tone. “So we’ll start small and expand it next year.”

  “If it’s successful,” Alice qualified.

  “Of course it’ll be successful.” In Ethel’s mind, that was a given. By now she was practically rubbing her hands together. “We’ll sell places for booths to local crafters, and the Grace Chapel congregation will also make craft items. We can profit even more if we run a concession area for lunch and have a selection of baked goods for sale.”

  “Goodness, that sounds like a lot of planning,” Alice said faintly. “I suppose if you’re going to try all those things, you might want to have each crafter donate one item for a raffle or a silent auction.”

  “I think that a silent auction requires too many volunteers,” Louise put in. “You need a lot of people to oversee the bidding, or you wind up with unhappy bidders who are sure someone else did something wrong.”

  “That’s true, unfortunately,” Jane said.

  “But you could let people purchase tickets,” Louise continued. “Place a box in front of each raffle item, and people could pop their tickets into the box for the item they want to win. They could put one ticket in several different boxes or fill one box with a bunch of tickets if there is something they want badly. Then at the end of the fair, a winning ticket is drawn from each box.”

  “Would people have to be there to win?” Jane asked. “That could be a hassle.”

  “No.” Louise shook her head. “We could ask them to write their names and phone numbers on each ticket. After the crafts fair is over, we could deliver the winning items or hold them at the church office and let the winners come pick them up.”

  “Oh, you girls have been an enormous help,” Ethel cried. “And you have such wonderful ideas. You all should be on the crafts-making committee.”

  “I don’t believe I’ll have time.” Louise barely missed a beat. “I recently picked up two new piano students, and I had hoped to visit Cynthia in Boston before Thanksgiving as well.”

  She barely had the words out before Alice said, “I’m sorry, but I can’t commit to that if I’m not even going to be in town. I probably will be able to help by the day of the event though.”

  “I can do that too,” said Louise.

  “Well,” said Ethel with a heavy sigh. “I suppose that leaves you and me to plan this, Jane.”

  “I’”

  “Why don’t you chair the crafts committee? If you’re able to take care of that, I’ll deal with the setup and the food and the raffle and all those types of details.”

  “I suppose I could do that,” Jane said faintly.

  As the one who was often on the receiving end of her aunt’s well-meant orders, Alice could not help but be grateful that she had had a legitimate reason to decline.

  “You’ll need to find people to serve on your committee.”

  “My committee?”

  “And since you’re going to be talking with people about crafts, why don’t you check around and see who might be interested in purchasing space for a booth?”

  “Why don’t I?” Jane shrugged her shoulders in resignation. “And while I’m at it, I might as well volunteer to make a few items for the baked-goods table.”

  “Oh, good,” said Ethel. “You could’”

  “And if this idea flies,” Jane said, “why don’t you contact Zack and Nancy Colwin to see if they’d chair the baked-goods committee?”

  “That’s a good idea.” Ethel looked around, instantly diverted. “I need a pencil and paper to jot down all these ideas.”

  As Alice rose to find the requested items, Louise cautioned her aunt, “Don’t forget that a project of this scope will require a vote of the church board.”

  “Yes,” said Alice. “I hope you won’t be too disappointed if people don’t feel they are up to rushing this into production in such a short time.”

  “Does that mean you plan to vote against it?” Ethel immediately looked suspicious.

  “No, I think it’s an exciting idea,” said Alice.

  “Particularly since you aren’t getting stuck with the work,” muttered Jane in an undertone as she rose to retrieve the dessert she’d brought in earlier.

  Alice smiled at her sister. “Exactly,” she agreed with a laugh.

  “But seriously, Aunt Ethel,” said Louise. “This is a big undertaking even if you only do half of the things we just discussed, and Alice is right—there is not much time to plan.”

  Ethel lifted her chin. “If the good Lord is involved, we can’t fail.”

  Jane met Alice’s glance, and the sisters smiled.

  “I suspect you’ll have no trouble persuading folks to your way of thinking,” Jane predicted.

  Chapter Two

  Jane went down to the Clip ’n’ Curl the following Monday morning to get the ends of her long dark hair trimmed, as she did every six months or so. Betty Dunkle, the owner of the shop, always tried to talk Jane into a cut and perm, telling her a shorter style would make her look younger, but so far Jane had resisted. She liked her hair just the way it was and found it especially easy to twist up out of the way when she was cooking.

  She was sitting in one of the cracked leather chairs in the waiting area when a headline from the Philadelphia newspaper, which had been tossed in a nearby basket, caught her eye. VOLUNTEERS AID IN ANIMAL-RESCUE EFFORTS, read the headline. And in smaller type below that, CARE AND COMFORT FOR SUFFERING PETS.

  Perhaps this would interest Alice. Picking up the article, Jane skimmed the content.

  “Would you mind if I took this home?” she asked Betty when the hairdresser called her name.

  “Go right ahead. I read it yesterday,” Betty told her. She held up a lock of Jane’s hair and swished it back and forth. “Are you going to let me take a few inches off this and layer it?”

  “No!” Jane put a hand protectively to her head. “Just a trim, please.”

  “You said you’d think about it.” Betty sighed dramatically as she began to section and pin Jane’s hair out of the way.

  “And I have,” Jane assured her. “I just haven’t finished thinking about it.”

  Betty smiled, knowing when she had lost a skirmish. “Okay. Just keep it in mind.”

  Jane headed home immediately after her hair appointment, the newspaper beside her on the seat of her car.

  As she turned into the gravel driveway to the left of the graceful old Victorian, she spotted Alice sweeping the large porch. Braking, she rolled down her window and called, “Alice, I have something for you.” She grabbed the newspaper and waved it out the window.

  Alice’s brown eyes
lit up with curiosity. She leaned the broom against the doorframe, grabbed the old flannel shirt she had worn over her T-shirt until she became too warm and hurried off the porch. “What is it?” She took the newspaper Jane offered.

  “Read the lead article,” Jane said. “It’s about animal-rescue efforts in the disaster area. I thought of you right away.”

  “Oh, thank you!” Alice clutched the newspaper, completely forgetting the broom, and hurried indoors as Jane continued on to the parking lot at the back corner of the inn. Her sister’s excitement reminded Jane to try to be more supportive of Alice’s interest in a trip down south to help the animals. She had felt bad on Saturday evening when they all inadvertently trampled on Alice’s enthusiasm with their concerns for her safety. She was sure Alice understood that their criticism, candidly expressed as they had been, were rooted in loving concern. But she also knew from personal experience on the receiving end of Ethel’s “suggestions” that they could sting.

  Entering the kitchen, she found that Alice had spread out the paper on the kitchen table and was eagerly scanning the article. Wendell, the family’s gray tabby cat, lounged in a patch of sun coming through the window, but he rose to his feet as he saw Jane enter the room.

  “Look at this, Jane,” her sister said. She pointed at a line in the article. “This woman—Shelby Riverly—was interviewed about her experiences at an animal-rescue camp. She says volunteers are desperately needed and probably will be for quite some time.”

  Jane nodded. She bent to run a hand over the soft fur of the cat’s back, smiling as he arched and butted her palm with his head for a second pat. “I read the article. I thought perhaps you could contact her to get more information about how to organize a trip.”

  “Oh, thank you.” Alice rose and hugged her sister. “I truly feel a calling to do this. But after listening to all of you Saturday evening, I started to think maybe I was foolish to even consider it.”

  Jane shook her head. “We’re just concerned for you, and we didn’t express ourselves particularly well. If you want to go, Alice, I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

  Alice smiled. “You’re going to have your hands full with that committee for Aunt Ethel’s crafts fair. But just knowing you don’t think I’m crazy is helpful. Oh! I almost forgot.” She held up her hand. “Fred Humbert called. Aunt Ethel got the Seniors Social Circle together after church yesterday, and they decided to ask the board for permission to use the Assembly Room for a small-scale crafts fair. If Fred can gather enough members, there will be a special meeting of the board tonight to vote on it.”

  “Small scale?” Jane chuckled. “I don’t believe our aunt knows the meaning of that phrase.”

  Alice nodded. “She is quite…enthusiastic about this idea.”

  “I don’t know whether to hope they approve it or think Aunt Ethel’s wacky for trying to put it together in such a short time,” Jane said. She glanced at her watch. “Yikes! I’ve got work to do in the kitchen. Don’t forget you left the broom on the front porch.”

  Alice entered the Grace Chapel Assembly Room shortly before seven that evening for the emergency board meeting. To her surprise, nearly every board member already had arrived. Lloyd Tynan and Ethel waved at her from their side-by-side seats across the table, as did both Pastor Ley and Rev. Kenneth Thompson. Patsy Ley, who like Pastor Thompson was not a board member, sat in her usual spot preparing to take minutes, and Fred Humbert smiled at Alice from his place at the end of the table, where he presided over the meetings.

  “Hello, Alice. You’re the last person we’re waiting for because June Carter can’t make it tonight.” He cleared his throat and announced. “I’d like to call this special meeting of the Grace Chapel Board of Directors to order.”

  Fred swiftly dispensed with the essentials of Robert’s Rules of Order, and then Lloyd made a motion to open a discussion of the proposed crafts fair.

  “I second,” announced Florence Simpson. Her broad forehead was furrowed, and her carefully applied lipstick emphasized the scowl that turned down the corners of her lips. “Now what, exactly, is this all about, Ethel?”

  Alice knew that Florence hosted a small Christmas crafts get-together each December, and she considered herself quite creative. Although it had not occurred to Alice until now, she suspected that Florence’s nose might be out of joint for not being included in the planning of this project.

  Ethel rose majestically from her chair and proceeded to pass around a handout in outline form to each member of the board. As she explained the Seniors Social Circle’s idea, her niece glanced around the room, trying to gauge each board member’s opinion.

  Sylvia Songer and Lloyd were openly smiling and nodding, while Cyril Overstreet and Fred listened attentively. Henry Ley also was smiling, as was the senior pastor, Rev. Thompson, who attended as an observer. Alice’s glance moved past him to Florence. The woman’s penciled eyebrows now had merged into one forbidding line.

  The moment Ethel stopped speaking, Florence responded. “I think it would be a huge mistake to rush into something like this,” she said firmly. “Good-quality crafts take time to prepare, and a craft show requires more planning than you could possibly manage in one month.”

  “If you’ll take a minute to look over your handout, you’ll see that I have planned the details quite carefully and I believe it is very possible.” Ethel’s voice dripped with so much patience that her annoyance could not be doubted. She and Florence were good friends—most of the time—but Alice knew the two prickly personalities could irritate each other at times.

  Fred cleared his throat, waving his handout. “This does look like a lot of work to do in a short time, Ethel. Are you sure you could pull this off?”

  “Oh yes,” Aunt Ethel said. “I already have volunteers lined up to chair the committees for the crafts, the concessions, the baked goods and the setup. In fact, my niece Jane has agreed to chair the crafts committee. You all know that Jane is energetic and diplomatic, and I think she will do a marvelous job of finding vendors to fill our booths.”

  Alice couldn’t help smiling. Ethel failed to mention that most of her volunteers, including Jane, had been conscripted.

  “But does Jane know enough about crafts?” Florence asked.

  Ethel drew in a deep breath, and Alice could see her feathers were ruffled. “Jane is excellent at a variety of crafts. She’s a first-rate organizer, and she’s very good with people.” Ethel emphasized the last four words.

  “I’m not talking about simply asking people to participate,” Florence huffed. “Most craft sellers work for months to prepare for a show. I can’t imagine you’re going to have many of them interested in purchasing booth space.”

  “Then it will be a very small first effort,” Ethel said. “But I don’t see the point of waiting until next year to get started. Even a modest crafts fair this year would acquaint people with our event, and next year could be much bigger.”

  The board continued to question Ethel about the details of the plan. Alice’s aunt had an answer for every question, but she clearly was a bit affronted at their lack of confidence.

  Ethel was receiving much the same treatment as she had doled out to Alice on Saturday evening. Although she had been annoyed with Ethel at the time, she felt a strong need to defend her aunt now. Alice was just about to affirm her confidence in her aunt’s ability to pull off the crafts fair when Sylvia spoke up.

  “I think it’s a marvelous idea,” Sylvia said. “If Jane would be interested, I’d be happy to serve on her committee.”

  “There is no committee until we vote,” Florence said. “And in any case, is Ethel the best qualified for this job? It seems to me that someone who is already interested in and involved in local crafts might be a better choice.”

  No one spoke. Alice watched, fascinated, as Ethel’s face turned an interesting shade of purple that clashed terribly with her hair. “Someone who cares enough to come up with a fund-raising idea certainly would be a better choice
than someone who has seldom bothered to get involved with the Helping Hands ministry,” Ethel said in a pointed tone.

  “Why don’t we move on to a vote if everyone has considered the issue?” Fred suggested. He looked apprehensive. Alice could not blame him. Anyone with any sense would dive for cover when Ethel and Florence were ready for combat.

  Lloyd cleared his throat. “I move that the board appoint Ethel Buckley to chair the first Grace Chapel Crafts Fair to benefit the Helping Hands ministry.”

  “I second,” Sylvia added enthusiastically.

  “It has been moved and seconded that we appoint Ethel Buckley to chair the first Grace Chapel Crafts Fair to benefit the Helping Hands ministry,” Fred pronounced. “All those in favor, please signify by raising your hands. Ethel, you’ll abstain, of course, since this motion directly involves you.”

  Alice immediately raised her hand, as did Lloyd, Pastor Ley and Sylvia. Cyril followed suit a moment later. Then Fred asked for those opposed, and no one appeared surprised when Florence’s hand shot into the air.

  “I also vote in favor,” Fred said. “So the final vote is six in favor, one opposed, one abstention and one absence. Ethel, we would like you to report on your progress at the regular monthly meeting.”

  Ethel smiled, obviously pleased that she had managed to persuade most of the board to support her. “Gladly. Thank you so much. This is going to be the start of something wonderful.”

  “Meeting adjourned!” Fred banged his gavel with a broad smile.

  Florence’s face was set as she rose and grabbed the cashmere jacket she had draped over the back of her chair. Muttering something about, “…don’t have the sense to listen to the voice of reason,” she stomped out of the room.

  The next morning, Alice had just finished breakfast with Jane when Louise came into the kitchen. “How did it go last night?” she asked Alice.

  “Aunt Ethel’s idea got the board’s support,” Alice reported. “Although she and Florence probably aren’t going to be on speaking terms for a while.” She went on to tell them the details of the discussion and Florence’s unforgettable exit.