Regina Weston had called in sick. The parson, therefore, along with his faithful canine companion, Charlie Brown, showed up at the Soup Supper Monday around noon, leaving him five hours to get the evening’s dinner completed.
He’d just finished chopping the onions when Zelda Marion came by and pretty much demanded to talk about the lack of instruction in one of the Sunday School classes. The parson tried to be cordial, to listen to her in compassion, but in addition to the onions there were other preparations to be made. Finally, she left. The parson headed back to the kitchen, finished the preparations of the soup’s ingredients, placed them along with the proper amount of broth in the kettle and turned the eye on.
Jeffery Kempton arrived about that time. The parson sat down in the office to with him to hear his complaints of the lack of dedication among the young adults. While being polite, the parson couldn’t help but wonder how one generated enthusiasm with Jeffery, a young adult himself, complaining all the time. Finally, Jeffery left.
The parson headed back to the kitchen, placed a large sauce pan on the stove full of water, threw some tea bags in the water and waited for the boil. As he waited he pulled out the cornmeal and the other ingredients to make the cornbread. And that completed he began to open the large pan of peaches. Three inches around the edge the can opener broke.
“Come, Charlie Brown,” the parson called after lowering the heat on the pan with the water and tea bags. He rushed outside and across the highway to the store on the other side of the highway. There he purchased another can opener and he and Charlie Brown headed back to the kitchen and the preparations. The can now open he extracted the contents and began to create the peach cobbler.
A half hour before the scheduled opening Florence, the indigent woman who somehow endeared herself to the parson with her constant and creative attempts to extract money from his wallet, entered and called out, “Hey, Parson, I’m here and I’m starving.”
The parson did not need to answer. Charlie Brown, on hearing her voice, headed to greet her, knowing he was in for a full quarter hour of petting.
When the quarter till the hour point came, several of the volunteers arrived and relieved the parson of some of his anxiety at getting everything out in time. He took a moment and poured a glass of the tea, leaned back against a kitchen counter and relished his cool refreshment.
Ring. Ring. The phone called out.
The parson answered. The voice on the other end said, “Hi, are ya’ll having that soup thing tonight?”
“We are,” said the parson.
“Well, we’re calling to see if we might come.”
“Well, come on,” said the parson. “You’ll be welcome.”
“That may be,” said the voice, “but we need to know what kind of soup you’re having to decide if we’re coming.”
The day flashed through the parson’s mind. He replied, “It’s hot. It’s good. It’s ready. And it’s free.”

Recent Comments