Lost and Found, Stories of Christmas

by Wendell E. Mettey

  With a voice that penetrated the soul, He whispered, “Albathar, the blind can see; the lame can walk; the sick are made well. Thanks be to God.”

  Albathar slowly nodded his head. “Yes indeed, the blind can see more than they ever dreamed of seeing! Thanks be to God.”

  Tickets

  Act l

  Memo from the Front Office

  Well, the computer age finally found its way into the Pearly Gates. To most of the angels this was a welcome relief, but to some it meant more work and more headaches.

  Mortimer, Computer Angel I, and Sigmund, Computer Angel II, appeared at the Front Gate loaded down with record books. They plopped their loads down on a nearby table and collapsed into their chairs with a loud sigh of relief.

  “Oh, for the good old days,” complained Mortimer as he looked upward. “Life was so simple then. No computers, no programming, no flash drives, no hard drives, no zip drives. If I see one more drive, I’ll ... I’ll ...”

  “Watch it, watch it,” responded Sigmund. “Remember where you are. The last time you lost that temper of yours we were scrubbing halos for two weeks.”

  “Well, it’s enough to rile even Old St. Pete’s feathers,” continued Mortimer. “Nothing’s personal anymore. Since we’ve gone with computers, everyone’s a number. Nobody’s a name anymore, just 782-587. Now you tell me,” Mortimer continued, holding up a flash drive, “Does old Mrs. Broady look like a 728-695?”

  “It’s a new day, Mortimer. You can’t live in the past. You just have to accept it, and that’s all there is to it,” replied Sigmund.

  “Yeah, I suppose you’re right, Sigmund. You know, I had a dream last night. Do you know what I dreamed?”

  “No, Mortimer. What did you dream?”

  “Well, I dreamed that I was standing at the Front Gate waiting for our first customers. One-by-one they came.

  But they weren’t people. They were numbers: 8’s and 7’s and 9’s. And they all started crying. ‘What’s the matter,’ I said. ‘We can’t go into Heaven,’ a 9 said. ‘Why?’ I said. Then an 8 said to me, ‘You see, Heaven is a 5.’ Well, Sigmund, I looked up and written over the Pearly Gates there was a number 5. I scratched my head and said, ‘So what?’ Then a sobbing 7 said, ‘Don’t you see, a 7 can’t go into a 5.” Mortimer began to laugh, “Get it? Get it? A 7 can’t go into a 5.”

  “Funny, funny!” sighed Sigmund. “Come on now, let’s get back to work.”

  “Okay, but kidding aside, Sigmund, what was wrong with the old system? Remember the Book of Life? Everybody had a page. They just passed by and old St. Pete read from the Book. Sure, the line got a little long at times, but it had that personal touch. You know what I mean.”

  “Hey, Mortimer, speaking of the personal touch, we just got an e-mail from the front office. And it’s got both of our names on it.”

  “Who’s it from, Sigmund, St. Pete?”

  “Higher, Mortimer!”

  “Higher than St. Pete? You don’t mean ...!” Both Mortimer and Sigmund stood and placed their hands over their hearts. Looking up, they paused and then Mortimer began to jump up and down with excitement. “Read it! Read it! What does it say? What does it say?”

  “Wait a minute, wait a minute, Mortimer! Give me a chance. The e-mail says that we are to send 253 tickets to First Church, Commonsville, USA. And the tickets are to read: Admit One to Heaven, December 25th. The e-mail goes on to say that the means by which these tickets are to be given out... well, that is to be left up to the church. We are to go along and merely observe and then report back to the front office on what happens.”

  “Oh boy! Oh boy! Just think of it, Sigmund. A visit to Old Mother Earth. Oh boy, we need a vacation. Why, I’ll get my wings pressed ... my halo cleaned… I haven’t been in a vision in a long time.”

  “Now hold it a minute, Mortimer. The e-mail clearly states that there are to be no visions, no appearances. The tickets are to be sent through the mail and we are merely to observe, out of sight.”

  “Ah, nuts! Nothing’s any fun anymore,” complained Mortimer. “I don’t even know why I’m an angel.” With those words came a loud clap of thunder. Both Mortimer and Sigmund looked up.

  “Just kidding, Lord! Just kidding!”

  Act ll

  The Board Meeting

  Sigmund and Mortimer’s first encounter with the people of First Church, Commonsville, USA, took place at the church’s monthly Board Meeting. Business was being concluded when the two angels walked in. Angels cannot be seen by human eyes, so they wandered freely among the board members, carefully taking notes for their report.

  “And that will be our Christmas Musicale for this year.”

  “Thank you, Miss Percy,” said Mr. Winstead, the Chairman of the Board. “We are certainly looking forward to the program, as we do each year.” Mr. Winstead spotted another member of the Board frantically waving his hand.

  “Yes, Tom. What is it?”

  “Mr. Winstead,” said Tom. “The young people were wondering if this year we might sing a medley of Christmas carols. We have been working ...”

  “Not in my Musicale!” interrupted Miss Percy.

  “We’ve been putting on our show for twenty-five years and not one note has been changed, nor will it ever be. You don’t tamper with success.” Miss Percy smiled at the pastor. “Isn’t that right, Rev. Holtman?”

  “Success! Ha!” grunted Mr. Fletcher. “Why don’t you let the kids take part? We are always complaining about them not wanting to do anything in church. Now they want to do something and we won’t give them a chance.” The other Board members began to argue amongst themselves.

  Mr. Winstead tried to regain order by pounding his gavel. “Come to order! Come to order!” The Board members became quiet. “Now that’s better. It’s getting late and I think it might be best if we passed this matter on to the Music Committee. If there is no further business, I’ll call this ...” Rev. Holtman timidly raised his hand. “Yes, Pastor, what is it?”

  “Well, I’m not even sure I should concern you with this, but it’s disturbing me,” said Rev. Holtman. “The other day when I was going through my mail, I came across this envelope. I opened it up, and inside were these tickets - 253 tickets!”

  “To a Sunday football game, eh Reverend?” laughed Mr. Roundbottom.

  “Well, it isn’t that kind of ticket, Mr. Roundbottom. I feel silly saying this, but they simply have on them: Admit One to Heaven, December 25th.”

  “Oh, Bill, it’s late!” sighed Mr. Winstead. “It surely must be some kind of sales gimmick.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought, until I held them in my hand. And then I got the strangest feeling, like nothing I had ever experienced before.”

  “Here. Let me see!” Mr. Roundbottom reached across the table and grabbed the tickets away from Rev. Holtman. After Mr. Roundbottom examined them, they were passed around to the other members. As each person held them, they experienced the same feeling as did Rev. Holtman. For the first time, all the members of the board were smiling. It was unanimous, again a first. They decided that these tickets were no sales gimmick.

  “I’d like to make a motion,” said Mr. Roundbottom. “I move we call a special Church Council so that these tickets may be distributed in an equitable manner.”

  Seconds were heard from all over the room. The meeting was adjourned and everyone ran for the doors, eager to spread the word about the tickets.

  Sigmund and Mortimer stood all by themselves in the Boardroom. “Well, it seems as though they got the message,” said Mortimer. “But I don’t think they realize that it isn’t going to be that easy.”

  “Yeah, I agree, Mortimer. I don’t think they realize that they have more than 253 people in this church. I wonder if the front office knew that they only sent down 253 tickets to a church that has ... well, they must have more than 600 members. Do you think we should phone upstairs?”

  “No, Sigmund, I don’t think that wou
ld be a good idea. It’s never a good idea to question the front office. We’ll just have to stand by and see what happens.”

  Act lll

  The Church Council

  A special Church Council to consider the matter of the tickets was called to order by the chairman, Mr. Winstead.

  “This special session of the Church Council will come to order. And you all know, we have some important business to discuss tonight. Frankly, it’s the strangest thing I’ve run across in my fifteen years as Church Moderator. As many of you know, Pastor Holtman received 253 tickets in the mail, marked Admit One to Heaven, December 25th. At first we thought it was just a sales gimmick but we all agreed we had better investigate the matter a little further. So as I was instructed, I appointed a special committee. And so, I would now like to call on Mr. Jones for the investigating committee’s report ... Mr. Jones.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Chairman. For the past two weeks we have made a thorough investigation of all such persons, operations or activities which bear the name HEAVEN. We ran the letters HEAVEN through my computer and got all the possible names which could come from those six little letters. We came up with four possibilities: a Harold Heavens across town, a Happy Heavens Smith from Ohio, and a Heavenly Health Foods Store. All said that they didn’t know anything about any tickets. Our latest lead, the Peaceful Heaven Cemetery, said that they don’t need to issue tickets ... people just drop in when they get ready. Therefore, Mr. Chairman, the report from the Special Investigating Committee is that the tickets appear to be legitimate!”

  “Thank you, Mr. Jones. Are there any questions? No? Having none, we’ll move on to the Deacons’ report. As our spiritual leaders, we have asked the Deacons to advise the church on the authenticity of these tickets ... Mrs. Goodman?”

  “Thank you, Mr. Chairman. We, the Board of Deacons, have been meeting over the past two weeks. We have argued the validity of these tickets over and over and it always comes down to the same thing. It’s unScriptural, it’s unfounded, it’s unheard of, but when we hold them in our hands, we know they are for real.” A buzz went throughout the meeting room.

  “Yes, Mr. Chairman, these tickets are from God and those who carry these tickets will be allowed to enter Heaven on December 25th.”

  A loud cheer went up from all those attending the Council meeting. “Come to order. Come to order!” cried Mr. Winstead. “We would now like to call upon our Pastor for anything he’d like to say ... Bill.”

  Rev. Holtman looked concerned as he slowly got to his feet. “If I was concerned when I first got these tickets, I’m even more concerned now.”

  “Don’t worry, Bill, we’ll give you one!” one of the Board members laughed and shouted out.

  Rev. Holtman smiled. “John, that’s exactly what concerns me. Who is going to get these tickets? We have 253 of them and we have a membership of 426 active members and 752 inactive members. Only 253 tickets for over 1,000 persons and who is going to decide who gets one and who doesn’t?”

  “Pastor,” said John. “We may have over 1,000 names on the roll, but how many of them support this church with their time and money?” A few “amens” came from those present. “Sunday, Charles counted 173 people in worship. It seems simple to me. We are going to have a surplus.”

  “Well, I’ve thought about that but... well... let’s take you as an example, John. Do you mind if I get personal?”

  “No, Pastor. Go ahead,” said John, smiling at the other Board members. “I have no skeletons to hide.”

  “John, there was a time when you never came to worship. I’d visit your home and I couldn’t talk to you because the television drowned me out. Then when Judy became active in the youth group, you took an interest and before long you gave your life to the Lord and now you are one of the most capable trustees we have. If we had received these tickets then, you would have been left out. You see what I mean, John? What about the people who are now like you were then? Is it fair? I just don’t know,” Reverend Holtman said. John tightened his lips and nodded his head in agreement.

  Reverend Holtman continued, “Mr. Chairman, I first of all think we should vote on whether to use these tickets at all, realizing that we might be incapable of giving them out fairly. And then, if we still decide to use them, an equitable system should be created for their distribution.”

  “Thank you, Pastor,” said Mr. Winstead. “I agree. Wasting no more time, let’s vote. All those in favor of using these tickets, raise your hand. Approved - 22. Opposed - None. Two abstaining. Who is that back there?”

  “Little Tommy Jergenson,” someone said.

  “Tommy, what are you doing here?” asked Mr. Winstead. “Isn’t Mary watching you in the nursery?”

  “Oh, yes sir. But I asked her if I could come down and show you my friend, Eddie.” A little boy came out from behind Tommy. “He moved in next door and he’s coming to Sunday School with me Sunday. And I want you to meet him,” said Tommy proudly.

  “That’s nice, Tommy,” said Mr. Winstead. “Hello, Eddie. Now why don’t you run along back to the nursery.”

  “Okay. Come along, Eddie. Good-bye.”

  “Kids! Here we are discussing such important matters and Tommy comes barging in here with that little dirty ... thing ... and interrupts us,” complained Mr. Roundbottom.

  “That little thing, for your information, lost his parents last year in an automobile accident and is a foster child,” responded an angry Board member.

  “Friends! Friends! Please!” said Mr. Winstead, “I know this is getting us all a bit irritable. I believe the vote was to use the tickets. Now I’ll entertain a motion as to how they are to be distributed. Yes, Mr. Roundbottom?”

  “I believe we should call a special Distribution Committee into session. I, for one, will be glad to serve.”

  “I bet you will,” said Mr. Fleshman. “That’s the only way you and your stuck-up wife will make it.”

  “I’ll not stand for that!” complained Mr. Roundbottom.

  “Mr. Chairman, will you remind this person who paid for the gymnasium and who supports this church?”

  “Gentlemen, gentlemen! Please! I think Mr. Roundbottom’s suggestion is a good one. So that we don’t have any screams of foul play later on, I suggest we take all the Board members’ names and place them in a hat and the first nine drawn will be our committee.” Everyone nodded their heads in agreement. “This committee will report to us by the first of next month. If there is no further business, I’ll entertain a motion for adjournment.”

  “So moved. Meeting adjourned.”

  Act lV

  Telephone Campaign

  While the special Distribution Committee was busy deciding who would be the lucky 253 persons, a feeling of uncertainty fell upon the people of the First Church. Maybe a call to the Pastor might relieve a little of that uncertainty.

  Buzz ... Buzz ... “Yes, Marsha?”

  “Rev. Holtman, Miss Percy is on line one.”

  “Thank you. Yes, Miss Percy ... No, the committee has not determined what system will ... Yes, I’m sure they realize that the choir has been faithful ... Yes, I’m sure they need voices in Heaven ... What about the Musicale? Well, I thought it was all settled. No, the tickets aren’t good until the 25th and the Musicale is the 24th ... I know you’ll have a difficult time getting people together to practice ... I know they’re saying they’d rather wait and sing up there…Well, I’m sure you can handle it ... Yes, you’ll be informed of the meeting. Good-bye.”

  Buzz ... Buzz ... “Yes, Marsha?”

  “Rev. Holtman, Mr. Roundbottom is on line two.”

  “Thank you, Marsha. Yes, Mr. Roundbottom ... Well, thank you. I’ve had quite a few favorable remarks on my sermon Sunday ... Yes, it was nice having people sitting in the aisles and that’s why you’re calling ... you want to talk about the idea of renovating the sanctuary. I thought you didn’t think much of that idea. You were the one who wanted to relocate because of the neig
hborhood ‘going to the dogs,’ to use your words ... Yes, I know we all have a right to change our minds. Well, to be frank, Mr. Roundbottom, a month ago this would have been good news. But now, well, it’s a little too late ... Yes, I mean considering the tickets. Oh yes, the special Distribution Committee is working ... No, still no report ... I hope they will be ready by next week. Yes, it was good seeing your Uncle Fred on Sunday. I thought he was in Florida. I haven’t seen him in worship for, I’d imagine eight years ... He’s up for the winter? ... I thought you went to Florida for the winter! ... Oh, he wanted to talk to his lawyer about a will change seeing how he’s so fond of the church …Well, Mr. Roundbottom, I have a lot of things to do today. Yes, yes, I will inform you, Good-bye.”

  Buzz ... Buzz ... “Yes, Marsha?”

  “Rev. Holtman, Mr. Winstead is on line one.”

  “Thank you, Marsha. I think I’m going to be out for the rest of the day. Hold all my other calls.”

  “Yes, Bob. Yeah, I’m surprised you got through ... Same at your place? Boy, this whole thing brings out the greedy side of people, doesn’t it? ... Yeah, they’ve all called me too ... Yeah, the same thing. You know, Bob, I’m sorry this is happening. Those tickets ... I wish I’d been on vacation and they’d sat there on my desk unopened past the 25th. You know, I am seriously questioning the Lord’s wisdom. Remember when the paper had the misprint and Bill’s Barn had to face those stampeding people wanting those flat-screen televisions for $3.95? Yes, this goes against everything I’ve ever believed about the way the Lord moves. Oh sorry, Bob, I don’t mean to unload on you ... Thanks. Why are you calling? … Oh, they have finished their work. Well, we’ll get the letter out today. See you then, Bob. Okay, good-bye.”

  Act V

  The Report

  For the first time in the history of the church, the Church Business Meeting was attended by a capacity crowd. People were sitting in the windows, and even standing in the doorways. The meeting was called to order with the pounding of the Chairman’s gavel.

  “This meeting will come to order,” said Mr. Winstead.

  “Before we go on to the report I would like to say something. In all the years that I have been affiliated with this church, I have never been so disappointed in our conduct. Sure, we’ve had our differences and they have led to some pretty heated debates on occasion, but nothing like this with these tickets. Have we forgotten what church means? Has everything we’ve been taught and experienced over the years been for nothing? These tickets — are they so important that we would become greedy hypocrites in order to get one? I recall that we were warned about these tickets. And now, considering these last few weeks, I was wondering ...”