Questing Parson

Whose Presents Are These

Well, the last of the Christmas gifts arrived today. I selected the gifts with a great deal of care this year, beginning the planning months ago.

About half the gifts I’m giving to others came from a particular online company. It’s a company I’ve used before. I really like them. Their products are unique and of high quality for a more than fair price.

Today the last box came. It was a big box. I put it down beside the other three boxes that had been delivered over the last ten days. I opened each of the big boxes. Inside the big boxes were smaller boxes containing the specific gifts. I must be a special customer with this company now. They gift wrapped all the gifts, complete with decorative ribbon.

I placed the gift wrapped presents about the living room. They were all the same size. They all were wrapped the same way. I picked up the packing slips and inventoried the shipments. Yep, according to the packing slips every present I’d ordered was here.

Every present I’ve ordered is here, gift wrapped beautifully. Wow! There’s no indication on any of the gift wrapped presents to itell me who gets which one.

Elwood's Christmas

Elwood Sydney Harriman was a well known fixture of the community. Affectionately called “El Sid”, after Elwood's fondness for the 1961 movie, “El Cid” about the eleventh century legendary Spanish hero. Elwood was a widower. He'd been a widower for almost twenty years. He lived alone but was an active member of the community, volunteering at the local soup kitchen, teaching a Sunday School class where he drew upon his experience as a former seminary professor. He tutored disadvantaged kids. In fact, a day did not go by when the people in the community did not see Elwood busy making the place better for his having been there.

Elwood began each day with exercise. Two days a week he drove to one of the nearby state parks where he hiked the trails and picked up the litter left by other hikers. Three of the other weekdays found him early at the local recreation center watching Morning Joe while he trotted his four miles on the treadmill. His exercise regimen disguised his age of eighty-two.

So active in the community was Elwood, so physically fit was Elwood, that few and far between were the people who knew his status in life. And since Elwood had outlived not only his beloved wife but also two children neither of whom had provided him with grandchildren, there was no Christmas tree in Elwood's house. There were no decorations on the door. And because everyone experienced Elwood as being so active and involved few and far between were those who would have ever given thought to the fact that Elwood had no place to go on Christmas.

Christmas morning, then, found Elwood at a nearby convenience store. “Morning, El Sid,” called out Helen Johnson, one of the clerks, as Elwood entered. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you, too,” proclaimed Elwood. He then headed over to the cappucinno machines where he filled his refill mug with the low fat French Vanilla. Elwood placed the $1.27 on the counter in payment. Then he placed a plastic grocery store bag on the counter beside it. The bag contained three small tins of Christmas cookies Elwood had baked and decorated. “Here's a little something for Christmas,” Elwood informed Helen. “There's something there for you and Barb and Nancy.

“Oh, Elwood,” said, Helen, “that's so sweet of you. Thank you so much.”

“My pleasure,” said Elwood. “You guys have a blessed Christmas.” Elwood walked out the door.

He headed down the highway in the opposite direction of his home and town. Elwood was taking a round about way to his next stop. He had plenty of time. It was Christmas and he had no place particular to go. With no place particular to go, it wasn't until a little after noon that Elwood stopped his car beside a bridge that spanned the north/south railroad tracks.

“Hey, Leonard,” Elwood cried, “you guys down there?”

In a moment a face appeared beside the rail. “Elwood, hey man, what you doing out here on Christmas?”

“Just wanted to say 'Merry Christmas' to you folks,” Elwood replied. “Are all four of you here?”

“Yeah, we're all here. What's up?”

“Come up and give me a hand,” Elwood said.

In just a few Leonard and three other homless men emerged from under the bridge. Elwood opened the trunk of his car. He pulled out four pup tents and four insulated sleeping bags. “Santa asked me to drop these off. He was a little busy delivering all the children's gifts.”

Tears appeared in Leonard's eyes. “El Sid, you didn't have to do this.”

“You're right,” said Elwood, “I didn't. But who can refuse Santa.”

Elwood was invited under the bridge to share some coffee from the pot resting on the coals of last night's fire. While there Leonard and his friends unwrapped the pup tents, set them up and with exclamations of joy spread the sleeping bags inside. As a consequence it was an hour-and-a-half before Elwood emerged from under the bridge and slid behind the wheel of the car.

Elwood made a U-turn and headed back toward the town. Stomach pangs hinted it was past his meal time. After a ten minute drive he pulled into the Waffle House where he frequently quenched his cholesterol demand. Walking in the door of the empty eatery, he was met with a trio of voices, “El Sid, Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you, too,” Elwood replied and headed to his usual corner booth.

Mildred, the older of the two servers in the place, in no time at all placed a mug of decaf in front of Elwood. “Know what you want?” asked Mildred.

“T-bone and eggs over medium with hashbrowns and wheat toast,” Elwood said. Mildred shouted out the order in the unique Waffle House cadence and jargon. George, the cook, turned toward his stove and began the process of whipping up Elwood's order.

Elwood began reading the newspaper on his iPad as he waited the order. Mary, the second server, passed by his booth, “What are you doing out on this Christmas Day, El Sid?” she asked.

“Trying to help Santa out,” said Elwood. Then he inquired about Mary's daughter who was waiting a kidney transplant. Mary looked around, and assuring herself Elwood was the only customer in the place, sat down across from him. The two talked about Mary's daughter, what the doctors were saying, the prospects of the kidney, and Mary asked Elwood to pray for her. Elwood was promising he'd do so when Mildred placed his order in front of him.

Elwood read the regional paper on the iPad as he consumed the steak and eggs. Meat and eggs gone, he then peeled the cover off the plastic container containing the grape jelly. With the patience of an eighty-two-year old with no place particlar to go, he spread the purple gel over the remaining piece of toast. He then ate it in small bites, chewing slowly, savoring the sweetness. Finished, the last swallow of decaf was downed.

Elwood walked to the register and paid his tab. He bid Mildred, Mary and George another Merry Christmas and exited. He was backing out of his parking space when Mildred and Mary, busting Elwood's table, discovered the three small envelopes, one labeled “George” one “Mildred” one “Mary”, each containing a American Express gift card for $100.

Back home, Elwood, poured a glass of Yellow Tail Cabernet Sauvignon, dropped onto his recliner, leaned back, hit the proper button on the clicker to activate the television. He selected HBO and began watching “Mr. Popper's Penguins.” Elwood sipped the wine and watched.

The phone coaxed Elwood from his slumber. He glanced at the screen. Mr. Popper's Penguins were no longer there. He looked over at the caller ID. It was Pastor Lawrence.

“Hello, Pastor,” Elwood greeted. “Hope you've had a Merry Christmas. Did those kids get what they deserved?"

“They did, El Sid,” said the pastor. “In fact, they got more than they deserved. You probably won't believe this, but there were a few extra presents in the carport. Go figure. I guess Santa forgot to bring them inside.”

“He's an old man,” said Elwood. “No telling what he forgets.”

“No telling,” said Pastor Lawrence. “Tell me, El Sid, did you have a good Christmas?”

“I did,” said Elwood, “I did. It was a wonderful Christmas.

Ms. Parson's Window

Today's Ms. Parson's birthday. Ah, how we miss her.

I thought to celebrate I'd share Ms. Parson's (Lynn's) window that members of the church installed in her memory.

The center square of the window is actually one of Ms. Parson's own stained glass creations. Doug Clark, a church member and fellow stained glass artist like Ms. Parson, used her piece and then created the many colorful pieces surrounding it. Larry Greeson, another church member and dear friend of Ms. Parson, installed the window at the rear of the sanctuary.

The interpretation of the piece depends on who you talk to. Some members say, the pieces of glass surrounding Ms. Parson represent all those who would come to her for advice, laughter, or love in her lifetime. Others say it's all those people she helped and loved embracing her, even in death.

Either way, she'd be (and surely is) overjoyed that her church remembers her in such a powerful and beautiful way.

 


 

A Gift Corrupted

Ralph Petersen pulled into the parking lot as the parson was changing the sign in front of his church to advertise a fund raiser of a neighboring congregation.

“Hey, Parson,” Ralph called from his car, “what's up; you run out of those clever sayings?”

“Could be, Ralph,” said the parson. “And it could be we're just in a mood to help some other folks.”

The parson had stepped from his step ladder and walked toward Ralph's car.

“Don't see much point in helping another congregation,” said Ralph. “In the long term it won't gain you anything.”

“What do you mean, 'gain me anything'?” asked the parson.

“Well, I'll give you an example. A few years back I made a contribution to the building fund of that church you're pushing on your sign. You know I'm not rich, but I do okay and the gift was well above average, I'm sure. Now remember I'm not a member of that church. But I knew they were trying to get a new building. I thought it would be good for the community so I made a contribution.”

“That's nice to hear, Ralph,” said the parson. “I'm sure they appreciated it.”

“That's where you're wrong,” said Ralph. “They didn't appreciate it one bit. The next year my niece was planning to get married and she wanted to have the ceremony there. It is a postcard looking church, if you know what I mean. So, she asked the pastor. He talked to her and there was some conflict about her plans. He said something about the rules of the church wouldn't permit what she wanted to do. So, my niece tells me. I called the pastor and talked to him. He wouldn't relent. I tactfully reminded him of my contribution. She still wasn't allowed to have the ceremony there. You see, helping another congregation won't gain you anything.”

The parson leaned forward and said to Ralph in a quiet voice, “Ralph, Ralph,” said the parson, “you took a gift and turned it into a bribe. Think about it, Ralph.”

Ralph glared at the parson a moment. He then said, “You've got some weird ideas, Parson.” Then he drove off.

 

The Pretty Purple Dress

Elise Parrot came bounding into the fellowship hall propelled by the inexhaustible unseen energy source that was unique to her. She skidded to a stop in front of the parson’s seat, wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged like a long lost daughter.

“Guess what,” she said.

“What?” responded the parson.

“No really, you have to guess.”

“Okay, tomorrow it’s going to rain orange jello.”

“You’re silly, Parson. No, my brother is staying with my aunt for two weeks. I don’t have to put up with all his stuff. It’s wonderful.”

The parson smiled, “Who’s the luckiest, you or your brother.”

She stepped back and placed her hands on her hips. “I’m the lucky one and you know it. Jackson is hyper and you know that, too.”

“I guess you’re right,” he said. “And tonight you’re really, really, really lucky.”

Elise’s mother and grown sister walked in about that time. Her mother warned her not to be bothering the parson. The parson assured her she was not.

“How come I’m really, really, really lucky?” she asked.

“Go in the kitchen and ask Ms. Parson.”

Elise disappeared with the speed of a raccoon with Charlie Brown, the parson’s faithful canine companion, fast on his heel. In a few minutes she came back out.

“Ms. Parson told me to sit beside you and be quiet.”

It was amazing. She sat beside the parson and was quiet.

Ms. Parson came into the room with a package in her hand. She placed it on the table beside Elise and the parson. “This is for you,” said Ms. Parson. “There’s a lady in the church who especially likes you. She’s kind of a secret friend. She wanted me to give this to you.” Elise looked puzzled. Her face was a question. “Go on,” said Ms. Parson, “open the package.

Elise looked over toward her mother and received a nod of approval. She tore into the package. The intake of breath was audible as she extracted three new dresses. (It was obvious the dresses did not come from the outlet mall and that the anonymous donor had taken care to select just the right dress to match Elise’s personality and enhance her hidden beauty.) She spread the dresses individually beside each other on the table and stood transfixed.

After a couple of minutes of pregnant silence, Ms. Parson suggested. “Why don’t you take the dresses to the bathroom  and get your sister to help you try them on to make sure they fit.”

“Can I?” asked Elise.

Ms. Parson hugged her. “Sure you can.”

Elise and her big sister scurried to the bathroom. The parson surveyed the room and beheld with joy the adult smiles.

Elise and her sister called to Ms. Parson. She disappeared and in a few minutes she returned with Elise, her sister, three dresses and the news that everything fit perfectly.

Everyone gathered about the tables and began to consume the soup that was the meal for the evening and which the teenagers were delivering to the home bound in the community. As the evening wore on people wandered to different parts of the church and Elise, Ms. Parson and the parson were left in the fellowship hall.

Quietly, Elise moved to the table behind the parson and Ms. Parson. She spread her three dresses out and stood in contemplation.

“Do you like them?” asked Ms. Parson.

“Oh, yes, I do,” she said. “Will you tell whoever gave me these how much I like them?”

“I’ll tell her, Elise.”

“Ms. Parson,” she said in a quiet voice. “You know what’s the best thing about these dresses?”

“What’s that, Elise?”

“Well, you know that pretty purple dress I wear to church? Don’t tell my Mom I told you, but that’s really the only dress I have.” She paused and then said, “Do you know my friend, Betsy?”

“I don’t think I know her,” said Ms. Parson.

“Well, anyway, Betsy doesn’t even have one dress. And the best thing about me getting these three dresses is that I can give Betsy my pretty purple one.”

Overhearing, the parson whispered, “A little child shall lead us.”

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