by Don Childers
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In January, Bill received word that his father’s surgery had gone well. His mother relayed that the doctor was realistic but held out some hope. His father would start a chemo treatment instead of radiation. Bill wanted to be there, but his bank account was getting very low. The job at the grocery store and the church brought in enough income to live, but not enough to afford a trip out west. He was grateful for the meat manager who gave him cuts of meat. He and Dave continued to enjoy the late night meals. Sometimes he would take a piece of roast over to Paul and Lynn’s and Lynn would work her magic and they would have a feast fit for kings, not seminary students.
Seminary was exciting. Bill loved his New Testament courses and especially loved his history courses. He was doing well in classes and all seemed to be going pretty well. That is usually when the other shoe falls.
It was a warm Thursday when Bill received a call from Sam at the church.
“Bill, this is Sam.”
Bill wondered who had died. He prayed it was not Bobby or Juanita. He prayed that it was not the sweet Mary Pond. Bill had developed a special love for Mary. She was quiet and always positive. He had been in her family home several times visiting with her. She lived in two rooms to make her Social Security check stretch to cover her costs. When Bill had asked her why she had tended to her ex-husband after he had treated her so horribly, she would just smile and say, “I think that is what the Lord wants us to do. We just don’t forgive the people we like. We have to forgive the people who have hurt us.” That was Mary. The walls of her room were plastered with photos cut out mainly from National Geographic. She would talk about the places around the world that she always wanted to travel to. Yet, as she talked she seemed to know so much about the places that one could believe she had actually gone there. Mary lived frugally. She refused to take help, and preferred to make it on her own. One day she took Bill to her cupboard and opened it. There was a box of cereal and cans of Campbell’s soups. They were stacked two high.
“This is how I make it,” Mary said proudly. She then added, “I have a bowl of cereal and my coffee in the morning; then I have a can of soup for lunch and a can of soup for my dinner. That way I buy fourteen cans of soup a week and I can live on my budget.” Mary paused, “Of course I get invited out sometimes and every once in while I cheat. But if I stick to this I can live on what I have. I was always taught to do that.”
“You have a can of soup a meal?” Bill asked
“Yep, and it is healthy and keeps my weight down.”
Bill hoped that it was not Mary that Sam was calling about.
“It’s Buddy,” Sam said. “He got sick last night and they took him to the hospital in Dallas. It looks like he is going to have surgery. Why I am calling is that Emily is not going to play on Sunday; she will stay in Dallas with him. So I guess we can just sing without the piano.”
“I am sorry to hear about that,” Bill said. For some reason he had the opposite reaction to Emily that he had with Mary. He really disliked Emily. That was something he had to work. “I can run over to Dallas and see them. Which hospital are they in?”
Sam gave Bill the information. Bill decided that he could go to Dallas on Friday, and then drive on to Murray. Sam offered to let him stay at their house.
Bill wondered about what to do for Sunday. He still was wondering after he had visited Emily and Buddy in the hospital. Emily had told him that it was going to be a long recovery, there was something wrong but she did not understand all the medical jargon. All she knew is that her Buddy was very sick. They had a daughter in Dallas and she would be staying with her until Buddy got back on his feet. She apologized for leaving the church in a lurch with no piano, but she pointed out that Buddy was her first priority. Bill agreed, and after they shared a prayer he left for Murray.
He wondered what to do all the way to Denton. As he turned onto the highway for Murray he suddenly had an epiphany. He drove right by the turn-off for Murray and headed for the Benton farm. He remembered that Susie Q had told him she used to play honky-tonk piano in bars before she got “saved.”
Arriving at the farm, he saw Pete out in the field working. Pulling up in his dusty Dodge, Pete waved.
“Hi preacher!” he yelled from the field.
“Hi Pete, how are you doing?”
“Just fine. Come on over here.” Bill got out of his car and walked across the field of peanuts. Pete took a red bandana out of his pocket and wiped his brow. “You want to see how peanuts grow?” Pete said, stooping down onto the ground.
Bill got down on his knees and looked as Pete pulled one of the plants up for Bill to examine.
“The peanuts grow on the bottom?” Bill asked.
“Yep, right here,” Pete said pointing to the cluster of peanuts on the bottom of the plant. “Come harvest, this should be a pretty crop this year.”
Pete and Bill spent the next few moments talking about farming and how hard it was to make a living. “Say, is Susie Q up at the house?” Bill said, rising to his feet. “I need to ask her something.”
“Yeh, I think so,” Pete said. “What you need?”
“Well, Sam called,” and with that Bill told Pete all about Emily and Buddy and how they needed someone to play the piano while Emily was out.
“Don’t know what she will say. Just have to ask her,” Pete said. “Go on up to the house up yonder and give a holler.”
With that, Bill left Pete. He climbed into his Dodge and drove up the dusty road to the house. The house looked like something out of a “Grapes of Wrath” movie. Bill found Susie ironing clothes. Her dress was stained with sweat from the hot Texas sun. Even with the windows and doors open it was still hot. Their mangy dog ran to greet Bill.
“Reverend Bill,” Susie Q said as she attempted to straighten her hair and gave a quick look around the living room. “What brings you out here?”
Bill stepped through the broken screen door and took a seat. He told Susie Q about Buddy and Emily and then asked her if she would play the piano on Sunday.
“Oh my,” Susie said. “Love to. Now mind you, I haven’t played in church for a long, long time. Not since my mamma took me to that little Baptist church when we lived in Arkansas. I play pretty spirited, if that is all right.”
“I think it would be great!” Bill said. “Could liven us up a bit.”
Liven up was an understatement. The little congregation had not sung like that ever before. Susie Q had a true gift, and with her fingers the old hymns came alive. Toes were tapping, hands were clapping, and everyone was having a great time.
After the service, Juanita came over to Susie Q.
“That was really fine playing! I loved it. Say Susie, have you ever played for a choir or anything?”
“Well, back in my former life I used to play while this gal sang. It was kind of a band of sorts.”
“If we pull together a choir, a small one, could you play for us?”
“Sure thing,” Susie said, gathering up her music just as Pete and the kids gathered around her. Bill, overhearing the conversation, had a smile ear to ear. Things were really looking up at the little church.
And so it was. The little choir came together and the service had never been livelier than it was with Susie Q playing. Buddy’s surgery was followed by a long time of recuperation. One month moved into two. During this time the music flowed from the little church’s piano. Then Emily and Buddy came home.
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That particular Sunday, Bill arrived early. Bill handed a bulletin to Susie Q and Sam handed out bulletins to the members. Attendance now had grown to close to forty. Other changes had been made. Sam and a few others had gotten together to put carpet on the platform and to redo the floors. Bill, along with Dave and Paul, had made a weekday trip to help sand and varnish the pews. The little church had taken on a whole new look.
Emily had heard about Susie Q and the changes from her friends. When she entered the sanctuary she looked like a bear searching for a vi
ctim. She marched up to the piano and glared at Susie Q. Susie obediently moved over to a nearby pew. Emily sat down. She took one look at the bulletin and got up. Bill stood at the pulpit ready to begin the service and looked at Sam with a plea for help.
“What is all this crap?” Emily bellowed. Rising from her seat, she began to move from person to person.
“We are going to have to get rid of this preacher right now. I don’t know what gives him the right to come in here and make all these changes. No one asked me about a choir. I thought I was the pianist around here. We need to have a vote right now and get rid of this preacher.” All the time, Emily was glaring at Bill and looking at her friends who were looking down at the floor. The newer members looked around nervously.
“Well, I will tell you I am leaving right now. I will be back after your service and we will have it out.” And with that Emily left. Bill just stood, mouth open.
It was Sam who broke the mood. “Well, I guess she had her say. Folks, sorry for that. Susie, will you play like we have planned? We will have a meeting later and sort all this out. Bill I think we can begin.”
It was, to say the least, not one of Bill’s better Sundays. He was angry, but worked to keep it from showing. He really did not remember much about the service. After the service, Emily had returned and was waiting, arms folded, at the back of the church. Beside her was her husband Buddy. He looked like he should have been back in bed, but he was there to support his wife. Bill did not know what to do. This was a student church and all it would take is a phone call to Mr. Scott and he would not return next Sunday.
Bill could think of nothing to say. For the first time he felt a knot growing in his stomach. Gathering up as much courage as he could, Bill looked at Sam and said as firmly as he could, “Sam, I am sorry this has happened. I think it is best for me to go on. I don’t know how you all are going to sort this out but you all need to do something. Let me know if you want me back next Sunday.” With that, Bill left pausing to say hello to Buddy who smiled back until he got an elbow in his ribs.
When Bill got back to Fort Worth, he stopped over at Paul and Lynn’s and told them about the incident.
“What a bitch!” Lynn said, giving Bill a hug.
“It is the name of the game,” Paul added. “I heard of one guy that was asked not to return because someone thought his handshake was too wimpy and that he might be not being manly enough!”
“I don’t know,” Bill said “Maybe I should have stayed and fought more. All I could think of doing was what I did. So I hope that if it goes the way I think it will, I just hope that Mr. Scott can find me another spot soon. The money is not much, but I need all I can make.”
When Bill got back to his room, Dave was more direct. “I would have just decked her and taken my lumps!” Dave was beginning to discover that he was not fitting into the preacher mode. He was great with radios and anything related to media, but his people skills were problematic. In later years Dave would go on to work within the media division of his denomination. He would win awards for his creative productions.
“Well, I may have a Sunday off,” Bill said as he went over to the table and cracked open his history text. “I need to get this done before tomorrow.”
Monday, Bill made an appointment with Mr. Scott and told him what had happened. “These things happen,” Mr. Scott said. “The church is filled with people and people get their feelings hurt. Sounds like you handled the situation as best as you could.”
“I don’t know,” Bill said.
“Well, you never know. You do what your heart tells you and just have to remember that God works through all things to bring them to good. Now, get on back to class. If they do call I can send you out to another church right away. You have done a great job, Bill.”
Bill really appreciated the encouragement that Mr. Scott gave. Sometimes the student preachers really messed up and Mr. Scott had to be the diplomat with angry churches. Sometimes it was the other way around, and then he was the cheerleader to discouraged students.
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It was a long week for Bill. He found it difficult to concentrate. He had a major history paper due in two weeks and he had difficulty focusing. Dave and he made several trips to the all-night restaurant for chili and spaghetti. Chris tried to apply his counseling techniques, trying to assure Bill it was all for the best. Ernie said he would pray for Bill. Ernie, who was from Taiwan, kept to himself. Although personable and friend, Ernie had a mysterious side to him.
As Friday approached Bill decided to begin a sermon. Since no call had come and Mr. Scott had not told him to come by he assumed that he was going back to Murray. He decided to preach a sermon on love and forgiveness. It just seemed appropriate.
Sunday, he again put on his blue suit and got into his Dodge to make the trip to Murray. As the miles rolled by his stomach got tighter and tighter. What if they were waiting to tell him the news when he got there? He would miss the church but he was prepared to move on. Sometimes you had to take a stand. Was he too harsh? Should he have known that it would upset Emily? Was it just his ego and drive for success that led him to contact Susie Q in the first place?
As he pulled up to the church he saw people going in. He got out of his car, straightened his suit coat and tie, and walked in. The first person to meet him was Emily. She had a firm look on her face, a look that could kill but she said slowly, “Reverend Thompson, what hymns do you want me to play this morning?”
“I beg your pardon?” Bill could not believe what he had just heard. Emily had never asked for the hymns. She had handed what she was playing to him.
“What hymns do you want me to play?” she said again. Others in the church were looking in their direction.
“Well, what would you like to play this morning?” Bill answered.
Emily’s face softened and she named five different hymns and asked Bill to pick three. He chose the three and proceeded up to the pulpit, Emily to the piano.
“Oh, by the way,” Emily said looking up at Bill, who was just ascending the two steps to the platform. The little choir will be continuing and Mrs. Benson will be playing for them.”
“Great,” Bill said. He took a deep breath and began the service.
After the service, Bill went over to Sam who was talking with some other people.
“Hi, Bill, how was your week?” Sam said.
“Fine,” Bill said. He paused, and then added, “What in the world happened this week? I really expected a call that I wouldn’t be coming back after last week.”
“Oh, that,” Sam said almost dismissively. “Well, we love Emily, we all really do. But over the years she has just about run off every decent student preacher we have had. We just held a meeting after church and decided that Emily could go and join the Methodist Church down the street. Buddy we said could stay.” Bill looked at Sam with a questioning look but all he could see was that Sam had an ear to ear grin.
All Bill could think of saying was, “Thanks!”
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That summer Bill decided to take more classes. He was trying to finish graduate school in three years and he needed to take summer classes if that was going to happen. News from home was not good. The cancer had spread to his father’s bones and the prognosis did not look good. Bill’s mother told him he should try to come back before the holidays. Uncle Red would cover the ticket if he would just let them know when he could come. Bill decided that August, after summer classes and before the fall, would be best. His mother assured him that his father was not in immediate danger, but the doctor said that he most likely would not survive the battle.
Buddy, Emily’s quiet husband who always wore a Stetson western hat died. He had never fully recovered from the surgery months before and kept getting weaker and weaker. When Bill received the call, he cut his last classes and headed up to Murray.
He stopped by Emily’s house first. Their daughter from Dallas answered his knock on the door and asked Bill to come in. Emily was sitting on
the couch, crying. When she saw Bill she immediately got up, rushed over to him, and threw her arms around him.
“Bill, Bill,” she cried. “I have lost Buddy, I have lost Buddy!”
Bill, at first surprised by her reaction, embraced her with a deep hug. He assured her that Buddy was with God and that she could count on the whole church to be there for her. Judging from the food on the counter, the church had already responded, along with the other churches in the small community. That was the way it was in communities like that. People took care of each other, especially in times of death.
The funeral was on Saturday. Once again it was held at the funeral home in Denton. The chapel was packed, as many people had appreciated the quiet, gentle spirit of Buddy. Bill regretted that he had not gotten to know Buddy well. With the tension with Emily, Bill tried to make his visits there infrequent. That was understandable, but Bill thought there should have been some way to bridge the gap. That was what grace and faith were all about. He was learning, but knew he had a lot more to learn about churches and people.
After the funeral, everyone gathered at Emily’s for lunch. The church had gone all out bringing food and beverages. The gathering went until late in the afternoon. As people were leaving, Emily went over to Bill and again hugged him.
“That was a fine service, just fine,” she said fighting tears. “Buddy would have been proud of what you said.”
“Well I hope it was comforting, Emily,” Bill said holding both her hands in his and looking deep into her eyes. “Just know that the Lord loves you and so do we.” What was strange to Bill is that he really meant what he said. He really did have a love for this battle-scarred woman.
“Pastor Bill,” Emily said after a few moments, “my daughter and family are headed back to Dallas. I was wondering if you were planning to spend the night here in Murray. You wouldn’t want to drive back tonight and then make the drive tomorrow again for worship?”
