by Don Childers
When Bill returned for debriefing, he shared his concerns about Emma and Phil with Dr. Simpson and Dr. Charles. Dr. Simpson was the first to speak.
“Sometimes it is difficult to break through. Folks just don’t trust people, especially white folks. So you just have to keep trying.”
Dr. Charles added, “Bill, were you bothered by the fellow asking for money?”
“No, not at all. I just wonder if it is for his good to give him money.”
Dr. Charles thought for a moment. “If it does not bother you, it is harmless. It is probably the one thing he could do well in his life. He just doesn’t realize he isn’t doing it as well.”
Bill felt better after the discussion. He continued calling on Emma and little by little she seemed to open up. She especially enjoyed hearing about his adventures in school and about the adventures at the church. At the end of each visit she would say, “My, my, your mama must be proud of you! You comin’ down here to visit us? What a nice boy you are!” Bill felt pretty good about his visits with Emma. As far as Phil went, he just made sure that he had plenty of quarters. Each time he tried to make it more and more difficult for Phil but in the end he would give in, Phil would smile and then brag to his friends about the stupid preacher that he panhandled every week.
Bill was feeling pretty good about his visits to Emma until Dr. Simpson explained to him what Emma was really doing. “She is really putting you in your place. She grew up in a time when you could never directly tell a white person what you thought of him. What she is really saying, and I hate to burst your ego, is that you sit in your ivory tower and come down to the poor section to make yourself feel better.”
Bill looked crestfallen. “You mean all this time and all she is doing is telling me to get lost?”
“Oh no. She is enjoying your visits. But when she over-praises you she is really telling you that she has to stay here and you can go back to your nice place, your nice safe place.”
“What can I do?” Bill asked.
“Just keep going, keep visiting, and one day she will trust you.”
That day did not come for several more weeks. One day as Emma and Bill were having their usual surface conversation, Emma suddenly stopped and looked hard at Bill. Then she said, “Okay. I will buy what you’re selling!”
“Excuse me, Emma, I don’t understand? I am not selling anything.”
“You’re not selling Bibles or something?” Emma asked with almost as much surprise as Bill had over her question.
“Emma, I told you we are just a group of students coming down here to visit. We are not selling anything!”
Emma looked at him and this time her smile was different, almost motherly. She reached over to the drawer in the nightstand and slowly opened it.
“I believe you. I want to show you something.” She pulled out several boxes of rocks. The rocks were nothing special, just gravel and rocks that one could find anywhere. Emma had them sorted according to shape and size. With great joy she began to show Bill her secret and private rock collection. Afterward, she began to tell Bill about her real life. She went on to explain how in her neighborhood people would come through, act like a friend and then always sell you something. Sometimes they disappeared before you ever got what they sold you. Bill could not believe the hard life that these people had endured and were still enduring.
Later, when Bill shared this with Dr. Simpson, Dr. Simpson had an all-knowing smile. “Bill you made a real breakthrough. She really trusts you. That is something very special.”
“Is it true what she said about people coming in and talking religion and then taking her money?”
Dr. Simpson looked over at Dr. Charles and they both nodded. “Bill, it is rough for these people. Lots of people come through promising all kinds of things and take what little money they have. She probably liked you but did not trust you until she showed you her rock collection. You have a real friend now.”
For Bill this experience at the nursing home was why he felt called into ministry. Ministry was about helping people find God and find themselves. Over the years, Bill would discover that this aspect of ministry energized him. Yet, as the years moved on he would forget all this. Instead, Bill would become caught up in what so many become caught up in—the push for recognition and success. For now, however, he knew that here was “where it was.”
-37-
As the semester drew to a close, Bill was continually short of cash. Expenses had been more than he anticipated, especially since the Dodge was beginning to act up. The work at the grocery store and the little church brought in barely enough income to manage. The bad news from the family was that although his father was holding his own, they too had run through resources with the growing medical bills. Bill knew that since he had just been home, this Christmas he would have to stay in Fort Worth.
As the holiday approached, Bill got more and more depressed. Most of the students were heading home for the holidays. David was going home to Indiana, Paul and Lynn were going out to Montana and then to Oregon, Ernie was staying on campus and Chris was headed to his home in west Texas. Chris had been nice enough to invite Bill but he politely thanked him and said he had other plans. Except he did not have other plans, except work and more work.
At the church Bill, Emily, Sam, and others donated some festive decorations for the little church. They put a tree on the small platform and decorated it in with handmade ornaments, paper chains, and strung popcorn. Susie made a special star for the top. Emily and Bill worked on some special music for Christmas Eve. It would be the first Christmas Eve service the congregation had observed in memory. Most of the time the student pastors were away for Christmas, as a result Christmas Eve services seldom happened at the Murray church.
The Sunday before Christmas Eve, Bill was invited over to Emily’s for dinner. She also invited Mary Pond to join them. Bill had developed a special love for Mary. Perhaps it was how she was able to care for the ex-husband who had jilted her or perhaps it was her loving and willing spirit. Bill was still impressed with her system of making ends meet. “I have a can of soup for lunch and one for dinner,” she would say. “That way,” Mary explained, “I use two cans of soup a day. So I go and buy enough soup for two weeks and can live on my budget.”
After Emily, Bill and Mary said grace, the conversation turned to Christmas plans. “So Bill, are you going home to your family?” Emily asked as she cut into a piece of pot roast.
“No, not this year,” and Bill’s answer betrayed his disappointment.
“I am sorry to hear that. How is your father doing?” Emily asked. Mary continued quietly eating and listening.
“Dad is doing better, but the outlook is still not good. He is still going through treatments for the cancer, and at least for the time being seems to be holding his own. He is working a few days a week and that keeps his spirits up. What are your plans?” Bill said trying to guide the subject away from his family situation.
Emily smiled and said, “Well, after our Christmas Eve service I am leaving the next morning to visit my daughter in Dallas. I will spend Christmas with my grandchildren.”
“And you, Mary?” Bill asked.
“Oh I will just be around here. Most folks in the town are taking off so someone has to hold down the fort.” Mary paused and then added. “Actually I have been invited over to the Tyndale’s for Christmas dinner. It should be real nice.” Mary paused and looked kindly at Bill. “So, what are your plans?”
Bill really did not want to go into this. He thought about whether he should just make something up or tell the truth. The truth was that this Christmas he had no plans. There was a celebration at the Wesley Center, a Methodist center for divinity students. He probably would go to that or just stay home and feel sorry for himself. He was really sad that Paul and Lynn were going to be gone. They had invited him to Montana, but at the point when they were making plans, he still hoped something would come through from the family. Paul and Lynn had left the day before
, and although Bill waited by the phone, no call had come from the family. Deep inside he realized that if it were at all possible for him to go home his family would pay his way. He understood about the medical bills but he still wanted to be home for Christmas. Bill thought for a moment and decided to put up a good front.
“Oh I have some nice plans. There is a big dinner at the Wesley Center for students who are in town. I plan to attend that and be with friends. It should be real nice.”
Emily and Mary both smiled and Mary added, “Well I am glad you have plans. You know you can always join me and the Tyndale’s for Christmas.”
“Thanks,” Bill said, outwardly smiling but inwardly wanting to cry.
For the next few days Bill’s attention was focused on preparing his sermon and other details for the Christmas Eve service. They had even put together a small choir to sing a medley of Christmas carols. They had talked about having a living manger scene, but wiser heads prevailed.
As Bill was typing his sermon, Chris was the last one to leave the apartment. Chris and Bill had never really connected. Chris was so uptight, always puffing on his pipe, holding it like he had pictured Dr. Freud, and trying to make wise comments. Only in Chris’s case wisdom was a reach. “Sorry you can’t join us in Midland for Christmas,” Chris said as he carried his numerous bags to the front door.
“God, Chris, you are only going to be gone a week.”
“Oh, I like to travel with everything I might need.”
Bill looked at the large bag Chris was carefully laying over his suitcases. Inside the bag was a beautiful pulpit robe that Chris’s family had given him. Most students could hardly afford a suit, let alone a pulpit robe. “You are taking your pulpit robe. Are you going to preach while you are there?” Bill asked, more in jest than seriousness.
“You never know. My home church just might ask me to preach. You can never be unprepared. I even have typed out a sermon just in case. How is your sermon coming?”
“Fine,” Bill said, and returned to his slow typing.
Chris began the process of hauling his bags down to his car. Bill thought about helping, but he was just not in the mood. As Chris gathered up his briefcase, a beautiful leather briefcase, again something most students only dreamed about having, Chris paused and looked at Bill.
“You know something I have always wanted to do over Christmas?”
“No, what?” Bill replied with a hint of sarcasm.
“Well at the Methodist Church downtown they serve Christmas dinner to people who have nowhere to go. A lot of transients go there. I have always wanted to do that at Christmas. I think it would be nice to do something like that. You know, celebrate the gift of Christ by giving a gift.”
“Oh really?” was all Bill could muster and then returned to his typing. Then he added, “I am sorry, Chris. Merry Christmas! I hope you have a safe trip. Don’t worry about me; I will be exhausted after the Christmas Eve service. I am looking forward to going to the dinner at the Wesley Center.”
Chris smiled and said, “Just a thought. You have yourself a Merry Christmas.” Chris turned and left.
The apartment seemed larger than it had ever been. For a moment Bill was a little annoyed at the suggestion that he would go and work on Christmas Day. He could have worked at the grocery store but had asked for a week off months in advance. Oh well, Bill had a sermon to finish.
-38-
The weather turned chilly as Bill made his way north to Murray. The service was planned at seven p.m. They would light candles, sing carols, read the Christmas story and listen to a short sermon. It was not the same as the bathrobes, Italian dinner, and light tour but it would have to do. Bill was excited about sharing Christmas Eve at the church. He had been gone the year before. Actually, he had mixed feelings that evening. One part of him wanted to be home and the other part was excited that he was leading worship on Christmas Eve.
The little church seemed to shine that evening. The attendance had grown to forty but that night the church was packed with almost seventy people. The singing was enthusiastic, the decorations were beautiful in spite of being hand-made and looking amateurish. It was the thought that counted and everyone had pitched in to make the evening inspirational.
As Bill stood at the back of the church wishing everyone a Merry Christmas, Sam and Juanita passed by him, paused and indicated that they wanted to say something to him.
“Say Bill, we know that you need to get on back to Fort Worth, but if you have a little time we would like you to stop over at the house for a moment.”
“Thank you, Sam.” Bill thought for a moment. It was almost three hours back to Fort Worth and it was already almost eight o’clock in the evening. “Why not,” he thought to himself. “Sam, thank you, I will be right over.”
After the last person had left, Bill turned off the lights and closed the door and walked the block and a half over to Sam and Juanita’s place. Their house was lit up with decorations and he could hear music coming from inside. As he got to the door, Juanita welcomed him with a kiss. Inside their living room, right in front of a huge Christmas tree, Bill saw most of the congregation. As Bill walked in they all shouted, “Merry Christmas.” Bill could not believe it.
Sam stepped forward and spoke. “Bill, we just did not want you to get away without knowing how much we all appreciate you. You have given this little church new life and we really appreciate it. We have some things here for you, not much, but the thought is a lot.” On a small table were gifts, some wrapped and some not. Bill just stood looking.
“Well I can’t believe it!” Emily said. “He can’t think of a word to say!!” and laughed. Everyone laughed and approached Bill, giving him hugs, kisses on the cheek, and handshakes. “Well, why don’t you open your gifts?” Juanita added.
There were many nice gifts. As Bill opened Emily’s gift he could not believe it. It was a leather briefcase. She looked at him and smiled. “You are going to be something someday. I want you to go in style.”
Sam and Juanita, along with Mrs. Tyndale and a few others, handed him a gift certificate for a new suit from Lazarus Department Store in Fort Worth. “We are getting tired of that old blue thing you wear. We were in Fort Worth and this should get you a nice suit. If it is more than this, just let us know.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Bill said. And he meant it.
Suzie, Peter, Joey, and Charlotte gave him homemade preserves and a huge bag of peanuts. The Tucks gave him a pen and pencil set. Mabel Simmons gave him one of her special cakes. Sam and Mary Lou gave him homemade bread and a cake. Sam whispered in his ear, “You know about Mabel’s cakes, this one is fine.”
After all the gifts were opened, Juanita invited everyone to help themselves to the refreshment. As Bill was stuffing his mouth with cheese, crackers, and little sausages, he noticed Mary standing to one side. She was holding a crumpled bag in one hand. Bill walked over to her.
“Mary, I want to thank you for your invitation. I hope you have a Merry Christmas.”
“Here, this is for you. Merry Christmas,” Mary said as she handed the bag to Bill.
Bill slowly opened the bag and looked inside. Inside were three cans of Campbell’s soup: a can each of chicken and rice, chicken noodle, and vegetable beef. Bill looked at Mary, who was standing off to the side smiling. Bill slowly took the cans of soup out of the bag. “Mary, I don’t know what to say,” Bill said. “You really need this more than I.”
“No, you need to know that we really care for you, I really care for you. I have watched how you handled Emily and how you forgave her and even became her friend. Bill, you have a real gift.” With that Mary stretched up to Bill and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
As Bill drove home that evening he had never felt so close to the people of the church or to God as he did that evening. The new briefcase sat beside him. Inside his pocket was the certificate for a brand new suit. Yet, the gift he could not stop thinking about was the three cans of soup.
Three
cans of soup, Bill thought. She is giving up three meals for me. It was like the gift of a widow long ago that had put two coins into the offering in a Temple, unnoticed by everyone except a poorly-dressed Jewish rabbi standing to the side. Jesus turned to his disciples and told them that she among all had given the greatest gift that day. Everyone else had given out of their abundance but she had given all she had. This gift was like that gift in so many ways.
As Bill drove home that evening, he determined what he would do on Christmas morning. Angels come in all forms and who would have thought that Chris would have been an angel sent to help Bill. He would get up and go to the Methodist Church and serve Christmas dinner to others. It would be one of the best Christmases he would ever celebrate.
PART THREE: COMING HOME
-39-
Jerry was pushing on Bill’s leg when he was brought back suddenly into the present moment. Jerry needed to go outside. Bill got up from his stuffed chair, walked over to the back door and let Jerry out into the backyard. Jerry bounded around and then quickly got down to business. The weather was crisp with the smell of snow in the air. After a few moments, Bill let Jerry back into the house. Jerry was obviously happy to be back in the warmth. He shook his whole body and then bounded off to fetch a toy. Jerry seemed to sense that something had changed. He brought the old stuffed dog toy in the shape of a football to Bill, who threw it across the room. Jerry bounded and leaped as he caught the football and brought it back, tail wagging.
“Jerry, you and I have some work to do. We need to clean up this mess and get these decorations up. Then I have something to do.”
The rest of the afternoon, Bill worked feverishly putting up the artificial tree, placing the ornaments, lights, and other decorations on the tree. He put the Santa and his sleigh on a table. He and Sharon had bought this elaborate wooden replica of Santa and his reindeer several years ago. For Bill it brought back memories of those wonderful Christmas Eves in Oregon.
