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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Inspirational
- Subject: Family
- Published: 09/10/2023
A place to serve The Lord
Born 1945, M, from Farmersburg, United States![A place to serve The Lord](/storage/story/361C0D5E-C8D1-4C74-E8A3-B841E9513B27_1694395457-image(342x285-crop).jpeg)
It was just a small place. Way back in the woods. The clearing was just big enough for a few cars. If the congregation grew, they would have to fall more trees. A shady, pleasant church on this hot day in early June. The windows were open and the fans humming. Marvin Moss, the head deacon, met me as I drove up.
“Howdy preacher.” He held out his hand. I shook it. A rough hand use to hard work. “As you can see, most of us are here. Sup fur Kerry Howard and his clan.”
About that time, an old rusty pickup came roaring into the parking lot. The bed of the truck seemed filled with kids.
“Are all those his?” I said in awe. Marvin laughed. “Oh, my no. He picks up the neighbor’s children.” He pointed to a little boy about 10. “That red-haired, freckled face boy is his’n.”
All the children piled out of the bed of the truck except for a girl of five. A lanky, big-boned woman helped her down. The little girl and woman followed the rest of the running children into the church. A slim man in his late 20s came around the nose of the pickup.
I held out my hand. Marvin did the introductions. “Kenny meet Jim Wisal. Reverend, this is Kerry Howard. Kerry is in charge of our bus ministry.”
“Or would be if we had a bus,” Kerry said with a big smile. His grip was firm. I could feel the calluses on his hand.
In the pulpit that morning, I explained my wife and two children were visiting her mother in Idaho and would be with me Wednesday night. After services, I met with the men in the back Sunday school room.
Marvin led the discussion. “Preacher, where do you see us goin’ in say two years?”
I stood to my feet and cleared my throat. “Well, that depends on you. I can be your leader and try to impart my vision. But it will mean a lot of hard work.”
Emile Black spoke up. “We ain’t afraid of hard work. You just tell us what to do.”
The rest of them nodded their heads. I smiled. These men were working men. They cared for their wives, children, and the church. “Thank you. Kerry, how many children do you think you and your dear wife could gather if you had a bus?”
Kerry rubbed his chin. “A whole passel. I’m afraid to put more in the pickup.”
“Gentlemen, I think the priority is to get Kerry a bus.” I said.
Sam Dorman stood in the back like he wasn’t a part of our discussion. Sam was a sour faced man in his mid-50s.
He stepped forward. “Had a bus a few years ago. Brought in the rift rash from the neighborhood. I’m again it.”
Kerry’s face grew red. “Sam, if you remember right, Kerry was one of those kids.” Marvin said.
“One out of 50. For my money, it’s not worth it.” Sam said. His jaw set.
“Gentlemen, if you plant 5o seeds, do all the seeds germinate?” I said, trying to bring some order back into the room.
“We aint talkin’ bout farmin’. Sam said. “We’re talking kids.”
“If we don’t plant seed or the gospel, in this case, we’ll see no results.” I said.
Kerry had been silent to this point. “When Marvin stopped by the farm and ask me to ride the bus, I refused. To me, I rode the bus to school five days a week. I sure didn’t want to ride one on Sunday. “ Tears came to his eyes. “The third week I gave in. I accepted Christ that morning.”
Sam stomped out of the room. He slammed the door on the way out. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset him.”
“Aint you preacher. He’s been like that since his wife died last year.”
With Sam gone, we voted to buy Kerry a bus. The vote was unanimous.
I poached the subject on the next order of business.
“Who is the meanest man in the area?” I said, looking from one man to another.
Marvin spoke up. “That would be Harry Orhan. Ever preacher goes to see him, he runs off his property.”
“Last one with a shotgun.” Emile laughed. “Shot in the air. Scared the poor guy, so he jumped three feet got in his car and raced outa there.”
I smiled. “Guess I’ll stay on the road in front of his house. “
“You might orta watch yourself.” Marvin said nervously.
After a word of prayer, I dismissed the group. Marvin and his wife had invited me to lunch. The meal was pleasant. After which Marvin showed me around his well-ordered farm.
As we watched the cattle munching grass in the south pasture. Marvin said. “Pastor, I’m glad you’re here. We didn’t think we would find anyone after pastor Young died.”
“Thank you. I believe The Lord led me here.” I said.
Marvin smiled. “So do I preacher. So do I.”
The evening service was the same as the morning but less attended.
I spend a well-rested night in the parsonage. The ladies of the church had cleaned and polished it the week before. The men gave the house a fresh coat of paint and made any repairs. Then they mowed the yard, trimmed the bushes and planted flowers.
The parsonage set about a half mile from the church. A rarely used gravel road except for farming season ran by it.
After a time with The Lord, I brewed a pot of coffee. When it was done, I poured a cup and took a walk. I looked at the church walking around back. At the edge of the woods were five picnic tables and three benches. A couple of swings and a slide and titter totter . It all appeared to be in good shape.
The lawn freshly mowed. The parking lot graveled with a few low places. In other words, the building and grounds were well cared for.
I went back home refreshed my coffee and took off the other way. One leg of the y ended at the church while the other continued toward the river. It was a pleasant road, well shaded with overhanging trees.
About a mile down I came a crossed my nearest neighbor. Ben Lang looked up from mending his fence as I came up the road. He took off his hat and wiped his brow.
“Well, now you got to be the new preacher down at Shady Grove.” He held out his hand. I shook it. Rough, like you would expect from a farmer. “Ben Lang.”
“That I am. Jim Wisal.”
“And fore you ask my family and I attend services at the methodist church down the way.” He gestured with a hand further down the road.
I smiled. “It’s good to know I have a Christian neighbor.” I said.
“Yup, been following The Lord nie on to forty years.” As we were speaking, a herd of about 30 cattle came up behind him. “Fixing the fence. Three of them got out last night. Almost made it your place fore I caught up to them.”
We spoke for a few more minutes before he and I headed for our respective homes.
When I returned to the parsonage, I glanced at the clock. 8:30. Time to call my wife. By noon, she and the boys would be in the air. I miss her most of a morning. At night I study while she bathes the boys and puts them to bed. She alerts me that it is story time. I start in where I left off the night before, repeating what I read when little eyelids began to flutter. I read comforting stories, leaving the scary stories for the afternoon.
The twins get along for the most part with an occasional fight over toys. I rarely punish them, but when I do I take my time. I set them on their beds and leave them alone for about 15 minutes. By the time I return, the tears have stopped.
I explain to them why they’re being punished and the reason I’m doing so. I have them lower their trousers and give them three whacks on their underwear covered bottoms. I hug each one, telling them I love them. I then pronounce the punishment ended, and the matter forgotten never to be brought up again. I then send them off to play.
I smiled as my wife answered the phone. “Grand central station. Could you hold please?” She went away to hush the boys. I overheard her say. “Daddy’s on the phone.”
And just like every five-year-old they wanted to talk to me. Something I was very glad to do.
“Hi daddy, I miss you.” Alvin said. “Me too.” His brother Alex chimed in. I could picture both boys holding their mom’s iPhone. “We’re coming home today.” Then I didn’t have to picture it in my mind. Two eager little faces crowded the screen of the phone. Both boys waved wildly at me. I kid talked for a few more minutes. Then the boys released the phone to their mother.
“I miss you more than you will ever know. “ The same thing I said to my wife each time she was gone for anything more than a few hours. “I love you."
"I miss you too, hon. I love you.” She said, smiling into the phone. It was remarkable to me that this beautiful woman agreed to marry me. More than that, she was my partner in the ministry.
“How is the church and the parsonage?” She asks.
“The church is a typical little white country church amidst woods corn and soybean fields. The house two bedrooms, one bath, kitchen, a screened in back porch and a large front porch. It sets on a gravel road,” I said. “And get this there is 40 acres behind the house that belongs to the church.”
Sherry smiled. “It sounds great honey. I know I’m going to love it.”
We talked for a few more minutes and signed off.
I puttered around the house all morning feeling restless and kept an eye on the clock. At noon, I drove out of the driveway and headed for Indianapolis. At the airport I parked the car in short-term parking. Their plane was due at three. At 3:15 I saw them coming down from the gate. Sherry appeared wore out. Traveling with the boys could be a headache even if they were well behaved. The boys, upon seeing me, broke the world’s record for sprinting. I hugged both of them and looked up at my wife. She smiled down at me.
“Oh, are these two yours?” I said, standing up and taking her in my arms.
“Yes, but you can have them if you like.” She said, smiling.
“Come on boys, let’s go home.” I said. We collected their luggage. My wife and boys waited at the door to the terminal as I brought the car around. 15 minutes on I70 and the boys were asleep.
“So, did you have a good time at your mom’s?” I ask.
“Yes, she fed the boys ice cream and cake every night and told them a bedtime story.” She looked at me. “Honey, would you mind if I invited her to spend thanksgiving and Christmas with us?”
“Of course not. The boys would love to have her around.”
At Cloverdale, we stopped at McDonalds. Instead of eating there we voted to continue to home. At the church, I did a quick donut in the parking lot and then headed for the parsonage.
The sun was headed down when I drove in. We carried two sleepy little boys into the house. We undressed them and put their pajamas on. They were asleep in minutes. I took Sherry on the grand tour. She made a pot of coffee. When it was done, we each took a cup and set in the swing on the front porch.
“Listen.” Sherry said. A few seconds later, two turkeys walked out of the weeds on the other side of the road. They looked at us, then casually walked down the center of the road until they entered the woods on our side.
“It’s so peaceful out here.” Sherry said.
“Now you and the boys are here. it's perfect.” I said, taking her hand.
Setting in bed, Sherry brought up a subject we had discussed many times.
“The boys had a great time with Chester.”
“Good old Chester. What is he, 15?” I said with a smile.
“16 and he’s dying. My mom took him to the vet this afternoon to have him put down. She waited until the boys were in the air.” She said with tears on her cheeks. “Mom was crying so hard she could barely speak.”
“Oh honey, I’m so sorry. I know your mom loved that old dog.” I said, folding her in my arms.
“She got him a few months before I went to college. Right after dad died.” She leaned back against the headboard. “I didn’t say anything to the boys. But it almost broke my heart when they told him goodbye.”
I could picture my little guys hugging the old dog, promising to see him next time they came to visit their grandmother. Tears came to my eyes as I thought of the loneliness Sherry’s mom was experiencing.
Then she said something I had been thinking. “Now we’re not living in a cramped apartment. Do you think we could get a dog?” She hurried on. “Maybe a puppy? The boys could train him?”
I smiled. “Great minds think alike.”
She laughed. “So you have been perusing the internet for dogs?”
“Actually, I have. I want one gentle and loyal. One easily trained. What would you think of a Shelty, a Shetland sheepdog?” I said, powering up my laptop. I brought up the video on YouTube of a shelty and a baby. Sherry laughed as the dog ran circles around the child. I then brought up breeders in the area and stopped, my mouth hanging open.
“What?” my wife said. She knew me well.
“Harry Orhan.” I then explained to her who Harry Orhan was.
“He sure has beautiful dogs.” She pointed to the screen.” that little one has a cute face.”
“They all have cute faces.” I said, smiling.
“But that one is the cutest.” She said’
“Ok, you’re right.” I said laughing.
“He shot at the last pastor. Well, actually in the air. Scared the poor guy to death.”
“Somebody who raises puppies can’t be all bad. Look, he’s smiling in this picture.” She pointed to one where Harry was holding a pup.
“Probably thinking about the last preacher, he ran off.” I said, smiling.
She laughed.
On that note, we went to sleep.
The next day, after breakfast, we walked down to the church. It was a pleasant June day, with a few clouds and plenty of sunshine. A slight breeze flittered the leaves. We went through the church with the boys inspecting all the rooms, including the bathrooms.
Their eyes lit up when they saw the play equipment in the back. They ran for the swings to the titter totter to the slide. At eleven, they all went home. They returned at noon, my wife carrying a picnic lunch of cold cuts and drinks with the boys skipping along in front of her.
I ask Alvin to give thanks. It would be Alex’s turn tonight.
“God, thank you for mommy and daddy. Thank you for the new church. May we stay here for a long long time. Amen. Oh, and thank you for the food. Amen.”
He smiled. “I almost forgot.”
“Daddy, do you think God laughs?” Alex said.
“I think He laughs a lot.” I said.
After we had eaten, I looked at my wife. She nodded.
“Boys, remember the fun you had with Chester?” I said.
“Yeah, we went for walks every morning.” Alex said.
“We had to wait on him. He was kind of slow.” Alvin said.
“How would you like to have your own dog?”
Two little bodies exploded. They jumped up from their seats at the picnic table and ran around to where we were seated.
“You mean it. You really mean it?” they said together. Their faces lit up with big grins.
“Yes, but you have to train him. It’s a puppy and you have to feed him and take him outside to use the bathroom.” Sherry said.
“Can we go see him now?” Alvin said.
‘Right now?” Alex said.
So, we walked home. Before we could get there, the boys were waiting by the car.
“Good thing we didn’t tell them at midnight.” Sherry said, smiling.
“They would have been knocking on Harry’s door.” I said. “You didn’t tell him I‘m a preacher, did you?”
“Not a word. Of course, it helped that he didn’t ask.”
Harry was feeding the puppies when we drove up. The boys were jumping up and down in their car seats.
My wife greeted him while I busied myself unbuckling the boys. As soon as they were loose, they ran to the puppy pen. I straightened up, sure he would know I was a preacher.
I came around the car. By this time, he was showing the boys the dogs. He turned to me, smiling.
“You’re the new preacher down at Shady Grove?” He said.
I froze. This was not the way I would have brought my occupation into the conversation. I didn’t see a gun of any kind, and he was still smiling.
“Yes, I preached my first sermon last Sunday.”
“Don’t have much truck with preachers. “ Then he said something that surprised me. “My daddy was one.”
“Your father was a pastor?” Sherry asks.
“Nope. He preached some before the alcohol took and made a devil out of him.”
“Mommy, look at this one.” Alex said. He had his fingers stuck through the wire of the pen. One puppy was licking both boys’ fingers.
“I think he likes us,” Alvin said. “Can we have him?”
Harry opened the gate to the pen. He pushed the other pups back and picked up the one that licked the boy’s fingers. He set the pup down. Now the puppy licked the boy’s faces. He seemed to be wiggling allover. The boys laughed.
I reached for my billfold. Harry put a hand on my arm. “Can’t let you do that. You being a preacher and all.” My heart fell. I knew the boys were set on having this puppy.
“Look Mr. Orhan. I’m sorry about your father. But the boys ha….” I said.
“Ain’t that. I’m giving you the pup.” He said, smiling. “I felt bad about shooting that shotgun. Just meant to scare him.
I laughed. “You sure did that. Scared off the preachers for twenty miles around.” I thought for a second, then said. “If you won’t let me pay you for the pup, then you can pay me.”
His smile disappeared. “How’s that?” He snapped. I feared I had over stepped my boundaries.
“Come to church this Sunday morning.” I said. Now it was my wife’s turn to freeze. She had been petting the puppy. My boys didn’t pay any attention. Their focus on the dog.
His smile returned. “You know preacher right after. Well, not right after. But about six months after I ran that preacher off my daddy fell and broke a hip. When he got out of the hospital, he came to stay with my wife and me.”
He sighed and seemed to shutter. “He quit drinking. Had to. I wouldn’t allow alcohol in my house. One day he said to me. Harry, I lived a terrible life. He then preceded to tell me about The Bible, church and Christ. I wouldn’t listen to him. A few months later, he got sick and died. Then last year my wife died.” I noticed tears in his eyes. “Please take your dog and begone with you.” He turned and walked to the house. My wife stood and took my hand. We watched Harry enter his home and shut the door.
“We need to pray for him.” She said.
“Your right, honey. He’s really hurting.” I turned to the boys. “Ok guys, let’s take your puppy home.”
I was mowing the back yard when Sherry motioned to me. I shut off the mower and approached the kitchen door. She held a finger to her lips. I followed her inside. She pointed to the living room. There on the floor lay the two boys with the pup in the middle. All three were asleep. Alvin’s left hand and Alex’s right were on the dog’s back. As we watched, the pup lifted his head, and I swear smiled at us. I kissed my wife and went back to work.
After dinner, I made an announcement. “We can’t keep calling him pup. He needs a name. “The boys bowed their heads.
“Lord thank you for our puppy. Now we need a good name.” Alex said.
“One he will like. Cause he gonna have it for a long, long time.” Alvan prayed.
“Howwww about red?” Alex said.
“But he’s not red. I like Bob.” Alvan said.
“There’re both great names. But how about a name from The Bible?” I said.
“David?” Alex said.
“Sammy?” Alvan said.
Thumbing thought The Bible, Sherry said. “Gideon? Gib for short.”
The puppy looked at her and smiled, wagging its tail.
“Here boy, here Gib.” Alvan said on his knees
“Yeah, here Gib.” Alex joined in, also on his knees. The pup came right to them.
We spent the week, or I should say Sherry and the boys did, training the puppy. As soon as he even looked like he had to use the bathroom, they took him outside. I think the dog spent more time out than in. I spent my days visiting the congregation. I tried to leave my evenings free. We had some lawn furniture out in the side yard. Sherry and I made good use of it.
Of an evening in the cool of the day, we rested there watching the boys play with the pup. They took turns throwing a rubber ball. The dog ran after the ball as if his life depended on it. It didn’t take long for the pup to become exhausted.
“Let him rest for a while, then we’ll go for a walk in the woods.” I said.
Some nights Sherry went with us. Other times she straightened the house while the boys were gone.
Behind the house set a nice section of woods with a creek running through it. In my off hours I had opened up an old path someone had made. The wooden bridge was kind of rickety, so I planned to replace some of the timbers. The boys like to throw a stick on one side and watch it float under the bridge and out the other side. They only did that twice. The second time we returned to the house with a wet dog.
Leaving the boys and dog outside, I went into the house and ask for an old towel. “What happened?” Sherry ask turning from washing the dinner dishes.
“The boys threw a stick in the stream and Gib went after it. Jumped right off the bridge into the water.” I said with a smile. “Scared the living daylights out of a school of fish.”
She joined us in the side yard.
“Gib got a bath mommy.” Alex said.
“Daddy said we gotta take a bath in the tub.” Alvin said. “He wouldn’t let us take a bath in the
stream.”
Sherry put her finger to her chin. “Let’s walk back to the bridge. But you have got to put a leash on Gib.”
“Can we take our baths in the stream?” Alvin said.
“No but if daddy says it ok, you can swim in your underwear.” Sherry said looking at me. Actually, we had discussed this yesterday.
“Can we daddy, can we?” Alex said.
“Yeah, can we?” Alvin joined in.
“Ok but we need to wait while mommy gets some towels and dry underwear.” I said.
Ten minutes later two little boys and their puppy were happily splashing in the stream. Sherry and I had brought two camp stools along and watched from the bridge.
That night we stood watching from the doorway as the boys slept the puppy snuggled between them.
The next morning, I was in my study when I sensed movement. The puppy came over to where I was seated and lay down at my feet. A half hour later Alex stood at the doorway rubbing sleep out of his eyes. I held out my arms. He climbed into my lap and went back to sleep. Soon I looked up and Alvin walked in the room. I gave up studying and just held the boys while they slept. The next thing I knew I felt something wet and warm on my lips. I opened my eyes. Sherry smiled at me. Still in her nightgown she whispered. “Breakfast will be ready in about 20 minutes.”
“Thank you dear. We’ll be ready.” I roused the boys and sent them to dress. Putting a leash on him I took Gib for a walk.
Most Wednesday night services are not well attended. Shady Grove pulled in about a third of that we did Sunday morning. This was the backbone of the church. The women greeted my wife as if she were a long-lost friend. Margie Lang head of the women’s missionary society ask Sherry to take over as director.
“We have a long tradition of the pastor’s wife leading us women.” She said her eyes moist. “Our former pastor’s wife did until her death.”
“I would be honored.” Sherry said to the elderly woman. “Would it be possible for you to come by the house to orient me on the society’s goals and projects? Also if you would could you stay on as co-director?”
Margie Lang’s face brightened. She took Sherry’s hand in both of hers. “I would like that very much.” She said. I had an idea the women’s missionary society was her life.
The boys felt out of place that is until Kerry’s son introduced them to some boys and girls their own age. Kerry was smiling so much I ask him to share the news with the whole church.
He stood behind the pulpit shifting from one foot to the other. He wiped sweat from his forehead.
“I…I just wanted to let you know I found a bus. And I’ll be picking it up tomorrow m… morning.” He hurried back to set beside his wife and son. “Oh, I almost forgot. I’ll take it to Motormouth this Friday for painting.” Motormouth being the local Bodyshop.
I strove to the pulpit. Before I could say anything, Sam stood up in the back of the sanctuary.
He held his hat in his hands and cleared his throat. “I spoke outa turn last week. I shouldna done it.” He set back down.
“Thank you, Kerry and Sam., I appreciate what both of you had to say.”
I looked over the congregation. These were country people. People used to hard work. Of all the candidates they had chosen me to lead them. I didn’t know it at that time but in the days to come Harry Orhan would come to know The Lord. Sam would be one of Kerry’s greatest supporters and helpers on his bus. Over the next year we would add another bus with Sam as the driver and captain. That night as Sherry and I watched our sons sleep with the pup between them, we knew we had found a place to serve The Lord.
A place to serve The Lord(Darrell Case)
It was just a small place. Way back in the woods. The clearing was just big enough for a few cars. If the congregation grew, they would have to fall more trees. A shady, pleasant church on this hot day in early June. The windows were open and the fans humming. Marvin Moss, the head deacon, met me as I drove up.
“Howdy preacher.” He held out his hand. I shook it. A rough hand use to hard work. “As you can see, most of us are here. Sup fur Kerry Howard and his clan.”
About that time, an old rusty pickup came roaring into the parking lot. The bed of the truck seemed filled with kids.
“Are all those his?” I said in awe. Marvin laughed. “Oh, my no. He picks up the neighbor’s children.” He pointed to a little boy about 10. “That red-haired, freckled face boy is his’n.”
All the children piled out of the bed of the truck except for a girl of five. A lanky, big-boned woman helped her down. The little girl and woman followed the rest of the running children into the church. A slim man in his late 20s came around the nose of the pickup.
I held out my hand. Marvin did the introductions. “Kenny meet Jim Wisal. Reverend, this is Kerry Howard. Kerry is in charge of our bus ministry.”
“Or would be if we had a bus,” Kerry said with a big smile. His grip was firm. I could feel the calluses on his hand.
In the pulpit that morning, I explained my wife and two children were visiting her mother in Idaho and would be with me Wednesday night. After services, I met with the men in the back Sunday school room.
Marvin led the discussion. “Preacher, where do you see us goin’ in say two years?”
I stood to my feet and cleared my throat. “Well, that depends on you. I can be your leader and try to impart my vision. But it will mean a lot of hard work.”
Emile Black spoke up. “We ain’t afraid of hard work. You just tell us what to do.”
The rest of them nodded their heads. I smiled. These men were working men. They cared for their wives, children, and the church. “Thank you. Kerry, how many children do you think you and your dear wife could gather if you had a bus?”
Kerry rubbed his chin. “A whole passel. I’m afraid to put more in the pickup.”
“Gentlemen, I think the priority is to get Kerry a bus.” I said.
Sam Dorman stood in the back like he wasn’t a part of our discussion. Sam was a sour faced man in his mid-50s.
He stepped forward. “Had a bus a few years ago. Brought in the rift rash from the neighborhood. I’m again it.”
Kerry’s face grew red. “Sam, if you remember right, Kerry was one of those kids.” Marvin said.
“One out of 50. For my money, it’s not worth it.” Sam said. His jaw set.
“Gentlemen, if you plant 5o seeds, do all the seeds germinate?” I said, trying to bring some order back into the room.
“We aint talkin’ bout farmin’. Sam said. “We’re talking kids.”
“If we don’t plant seed or the gospel, in this case, we’ll see no results.” I said.
Kerry had been silent to this point. “When Marvin stopped by the farm and ask me to ride the bus, I refused. To me, I rode the bus to school five days a week. I sure didn’t want to ride one on Sunday. “ Tears came to his eyes. “The third week I gave in. I accepted Christ that morning.”
Sam stomped out of the room. He slammed the door on the way out. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset him.”
“Aint you preacher. He’s been like that since his wife died last year.”
With Sam gone, we voted to buy Kerry a bus. The vote was unanimous.
I poached the subject on the next order of business.
“Who is the meanest man in the area?” I said, looking from one man to another.
Marvin spoke up. “That would be Harry Orhan. Ever preacher goes to see him, he runs off his property.”
“Last one with a shotgun.” Emile laughed. “Shot in the air. Scared the poor guy, so he jumped three feet got in his car and raced outa there.”
I smiled. “Guess I’ll stay on the road in front of his house. “
“You might orta watch yourself.” Marvin said nervously.
After a word of prayer, I dismissed the group. Marvin and his wife had invited me to lunch. The meal was pleasant. After which Marvin showed me around his well-ordered farm.
As we watched the cattle munching grass in the south pasture. Marvin said. “Pastor, I’m glad you’re here. We didn’t think we would find anyone after pastor Young died.”
“Thank you. I believe The Lord led me here.” I said.
Marvin smiled. “So do I preacher. So do I.”
The evening service was the same as the morning but less attended.
I spend a well-rested night in the parsonage. The ladies of the church had cleaned and polished it the week before. The men gave the house a fresh coat of paint and made any repairs. Then they mowed the yard, trimmed the bushes and planted flowers.
The parsonage set about a half mile from the church. A rarely used gravel road except for farming season ran by it.
After a time with The Lord, I brewed a pot of coffee. When it was done, I poured a cup and took a walk. I looked at the church walking around back. At the edge of the woods were five picnic tables and three benches. A couple of swings and a slide and titter totter . It all appeared to be in good shape.
The lawn freshly mowed. The parking lot graveled with a few low places. In other words, the building and grounds were well cared for.
I went back home refreshed my coffee and took off the other way. One leg of the y ended at the church while the other continued toward the river. It was a pleasant road, well shaded with overhanging trees.
About a mile down I came a crossed my nearest neighbor. Ben Lang looked up from mending his fence as I came up the road. He took off his hat and wiped his brow.
“Well, now you got to be the new preacher down at Shady Grove.” He held out his hand. I shook it. Rough, like you would expect from a farmer. “Ben Lang.”
“That I am. Jim Wisal.”
“And fore you ask my family and I attend services at the methodist church down the way.” He gestured with a hand further down the road.
I smiled. “It’s good to know I have a Christian neighbor.” I said.
“Yup, been following The Lord nie on to forty years.” As we were speaking, a herd of about 30 cattle came up behind him. “Fixing the fence. Three of them got out last night. Almost made it your place fore I caught up to them.”
We spoke for a few more minutes before he and I headed for our respective homes.
When I returned to the parsonage, I glanced at the clock. 8:30. Time to call my wife. By noon, she and the boys would be in the air. I miss her most of a morning. At night I study while she bathes the boys and puts them to bed. She alerts me that it is story time. I start in where I left off the night before, repeating what I read when little eyelids began to flutter. I read comforting stories, leaving the scary stories for the afternoon.
The twins get along for the most part with an occasional fight over toys. I rarely punish them, but when I do I take my time. I set them on their beds and leave them alone for about 15 minutes. By the time I return, the tears have stopped.
I explain to them why they’re being punished and the reason I’m doing so. I have them lower their trousers and give them three whacks on their underwear covered bottoms. I hug each one, telling them I love them. I then pronounce the punishment ended, and the matter forgotten never to be brought up again. I then send them off to play.
I smiled as my wife answered the phone. “Grand central station. Could you hold please?” She went away to hush the boys. I overheard her say. “Daddy’s on the phone.”
And just like every five-year-old they wanted to talk to me. Something I was very glad to do.
“Hi daddy, I miss you.” Alvin said. “Me too.” His brother Alex chimed in. I could picture both boys holding their mom’s iPhone. “We’re coming home today.” Then I didn’t have to picture it in my mind. Two eager little faces crowded the screen of the phone. Both boys waved wildly at me. I kid talked for a few more minutes. Then the boys released the phone to their mother.
“I miss you more than you will ever know. “ The same thing I said to my wife each time she was gone for anything more than a few hours. “I love you."
"I miss you too, hon. I love you.” She said, smiling into the phone. It was remarkable to me that this beautiful woman agreed to marry me. More than that, she was my partner in the ministry.
“How is the church and the parsonage?” She asks.
“The church is a typical little white country church amidst woods corn and soybean fields. The house two bedrooms, one bath, kitchen, a screened in back porch and a large front porch. It sets on a gravel road,” I said. “And get this there is 40 acres behind the house that belongs to the church.”
Sherry smiled. “It sounds great honey. I know I’m going to love it.”
We talked for a few more minutes and signed off.
I puttered around the house all morning feeling restless and kept an eye on the clock. At noon, I drove out of the driveway and headed for Indianapolis. At the airport I parked the car in short-term parking. Their plane was due at three. At 3:15 I saw them coming down from the gate. Sherry appeared wore out. Traveling with the boys could be a headache even if they were well behaved. The boys, upon seeing me, broke the world’s record for sprinting. I hugged both of them and looked up at my wife. She smiled down at me.
“Oh, are these two yours?” I said, standing up and taking her in my arms.
“Yes, but you can have them if you like.” She said, smiling.
“Come on boys, let’s go home.” I said. We collected their luggage. My wife and boys waited at the door to the terminal as I brought the car around. 15 minutes on I70 and the boys were asleep.
“So, did you have a good time at your mom’s?” I ask.
“Yes, she fed the boys ice cream and cake every night and told them a bedtime story.” She looked at me. “Honey, would you mind if I invited her to spend thanksgiving and Christmas with us?”
“Of course not. The boys would love to have her around.”
At Cloverdale, we stopped at McDonalds. Instead of eating there we voted to continue to home. At the church, I did a quick donut in the parking lot and then headed for the parsonage.
The sun was headed down when I drove in. We carried two sleepy little boys into the house. We undressed them and put their pajamas on. They were asleep in minutes. I took Sherry on the grand tour. She made a pot of coffee. When it was done, we each took a cup and set in the swing on the front porch.
“Listen.” Sherry said. A few seconds later, two turkeys walked out of the weeds on the other side of the road. They looked at us, then casually walked down the center of the road until they entered the woods on our side.
“It’s so peaceful out here.” Sherry said.
“Now you and the boys are here. it's perfect.” I said, taking her hand.
Setting in bed, Sherry brought up a subject we had discussed many times.
“The boys had a great time with Chester.”
“Good old Chester. What is he, 15?” I said with a smile.
“16 and he’s dying. My mom took him to the vet this afternoon to have him put down. She waited until the boys were in the air.” She said with tears on her cheeks. “Mom was crying so hard she could barely speak.”
“Oh honey, I’m so sorry. I know your mom loved that old dog.” I said, folding her in my arms.
“She got him a few months before I went to college. Right after dad died.” She leaned back against the headboard. “I didn’t say anything to the boys. But it almost broke my heart when they told him goodbye.”
I could picture my little guys hugging the old dog, promising to see him next time they came to visit their grandmother. Tears came to my eyes as I thought of the loneliness Sherry’s mom was experiencing.
Then she said something I had been thinking. “Now we’re not living in a cramped apartment. Do you think we could get a dog?” She hurried on. “Maybe a puppy? The boys could train him?”
I smiled. “Great minds think alike.”
She laughed. “So you have been perusing the internet for dogs?”
“Actually, I have. I want one gentle and loyal. One easily trained. What would you think of a Shelty, a Shetland sheepdog?” I said, powering up my laptop. I brought up the video on YouTube of a shelty and a baby. Sherry laughed as the dog ran circles around the child. I then brought up breeders in the area and stopped, my mouth hanging open.
“What?” my wife said. She knew me well.
“Harry Orhan.” I then explained to her who Harry Orhan was.
“He sure has beautiful dogs.” She pointed to the screen.” that little one has a cute face.”
“They all have cute faces.” I said, smiling.
“But that one is the cutest.” She said’
“Ok, you’re right.” I said laughing.
“He shot at the last pastor. Well, actually in the air. Scared the poor guy to death.”
“Somebody who raises puppies can’t be all bad. Look, he’s smiling in this picture.” She pointed to one where Harry was holding a pup.
“Probably thinking about the last preacher, he ran off.” I said, smiling.
She laughed.
On that note, we went to sleep.
The next day, after breakfast, we walked down to the church. It was a pleasant June day, with a few clouds and plenty of sunshine. A slight breeze flittered the leaves. We went through the church with the boys inspecting all the rooms, including the bathrooms.
Their eyes lit up when they saw the play equipment in the back. They ran for the swings to the titter totter to the slide. At eleven, they all went home. They returned at noon, my wife carrying a picnic lunch of cold cuts and drinks with the boys skipping along in front of her.
I ask Alvin to give thanks. It would be Alex’s turn tonight.
“God, thank you for mommy and daddy. Thank you for the new church. May we stay here for a long long time. Amen. Oh, and thank you for the food. Amen.”
He smiled. “I almost forgot.”
“Daddy, do you think God laughs?” Alex said.
“I think He laughs a lot.” I said.
After we had eaten, I looked at my wife. She nodded.
“Boys, remember the fun you had with Chester?” I said.
“Yeah, we went for walks every morning.” Alex said.
“We had to wait on him. He was kind of slow.” Alvin said.
“How would you like to have your own dog?”
Two little bodies exploded. They jumped up from their seats at the picnic table and ran around to where we were seated.
“You mean it. You really mean it?” they said together. Their faces lit up with big grins.
“Yes, but you have to train him. It’s a puppy and you have to feed him and take him outside to use the bathroom.” Sherry said.
“Can we go see him now?” Alvin said.
‘Right now?” Alex said.
So, we walked home. Before we could get there, the boys were waiting by the car.
“Good thing we didn’t tell them at midnight.” Sherry said, smiling.
“They would have been knocking on Harry’s door.” I said. “You didn’t tell him I‘m a preacher, did you?”
“Not a word. Of course, it helped that he didn’t ask.”
Harry was feeding the puppies when we drove up. The boys were jumping up and down in their car seats.
My wife greeted him while I busied myself unbuckling the boys. As soon as they were loose, they ran to the puppy pen. I straightened up, sure he would know I was a preacher.
I came around the car. By this time, he was showing the boys the dogs. He turned to me, smiling.
“You’re the new preacher down at Shady Grove?” He said.
I froze. This was not the way I would have brought my occupation into the conversation. I didn’t see a gun of any kind, and he was still smiling.
“Yes, I preached my first sermon last Sunday.”
“Don’t have much truck with preachers. “ Then he said something that surprised me. “My daddy was one.”
“Your father was a pastor?” Sherry asks.
“Nope. He preached some before the alcohol took and made a devil out of him.”
“Mommy, look at this one.” Alex said. He had his fingers stuck through the wire of the pen. One puppy was licking both boys’ fingers.
“I think he likes us,” Alvin said. “Can we have him?”
Harry opened the gate to the pen. He pushed the other pups back and picked up the one that licked the boy’s fingers. He set the pup down. Now the puppy licked the boy’s faces. He seemed to be wiggling allover. The boys laughed.
I reached for my billfold. Harry put a hand on my arm. “Can’t let you do that. You being a preacher and all.” My heart fell. I knew the boys were set on having this puppy.
“Look Mr. Orhan. I’m sorry about your father. But the boys ha….” I said.
“Ain’t that. I’m giving you the pup.” He said, smiling. “I felt bad about shooting that shotgun. Just meant to scare him.
I laughed. “You sure did that. Scared off the preachers for twenty miles around.” I thought for a second, then said. “If you won’t let me pay you for the pup, then you can pay me.”
His smile disappeared. “How’s that?” He snapped. I feared I had over stepped my boundaries.
“Come to church this Sunday morning.” I said. Now it was my wife’s turn to freeze. She had been petting the puppy. My boys didn’t pay any attention. Their focus on the dog.
His smile returned. “You know preacher right after. Well, not right after. But about six months after I ran that preacher off my daddy fell and broke a hip. When he got out of the hospital, he came to stay with my wife and me.”
He sighed and seemed to shutter. “He quit drinking. Had to. I wouldn’t allow alcohol in my house. One day he said to me. Harry, I lived a terrible life. He then preceded to tell me about The Bible, church and Christ. I wouldn’t listen to him. A few months later, he got sick and died. Then last year my wife died.” I noticed tears in his eyes. “Please take your dog and begone with you.” He turned and walked to the house. My wife stood and took my hand. We watched Harry enter his home and shut the door.
“We need to pray for him.” She said.
“Your right, honey. He’s really hurting.” I turned to the boys. “Ok guys, let’s take your puppy home.”
I was mowing the back yard when Sherry motioned to me. I shut off the mower and approached the kitchen door. She held a finger to her lips. I followed her inside. She pointed to the living room. There on the floor lay the two boys with the pup in the middle. All three were asleep. Alvin’s left hand and Alex’s right were on the dog’s back. As we watched, the pup lifted his head, and I swear smiled at us. I kissed my wife and went back to work.
After dinner, I made an announcement. “We can’t keep calling him pup. He needs a name. “The boys bowed their heads.
“Lord thank you for our puppy. Now we need a good name.” Alex said.
“One he will like. Cause he gonna have it for a long, long time.” Alvan prayed.
“Howwww about red?” Alex said.
“But he’s not red. I like Bob.” Alvan said.
“There’re both great names. But how about a name from The Bible?” I said.
“David?” Alex said.
“Sammy?” Alvan said.
Thumbing thought The Bible, Sherry said. “Gideon? Gib for short.”
The puppy looked at her and smiled, wagging its tail.
“Here boy, here Gib.” Alvan said on his knees
“Yeah, here Gib.” Alex joined in, also on his knees. The pup came right to them.
We spent the week, or I should say Sherry and the boys did, training the puppy. As soon as he even looked like he had to use the bathroom, they took him outside. I think the dog spent more time out than in. I spent my days visiting the congregation. I tried to leave my evenings free. We had some lawn furniture out in the side yard. Sherry and I made good use of it.
Of an evening in the cool of the day, we rested there watching the boys play with the pup. They took turns throwing a rubber ball. The dog ran after the ball as if his life depended on it. It didn’t take long for the pup to become exhausted.
“Let him rest for a while, then we’ll go for a walk in the woods.” I said.
Some nights Sherry went with us. Other times she straightened the house while the boys were gone.
Behind the house set a nice section of woods with a creek running through it. In my off hours I had opened up an old path someone had made. The wooden bridge was kind of rickety, so I planned to replace some of the timbers. The boys like to throw a stick on one side and watch it float under the bridge and out the other side. They only did that twice. The second time we returned to the house with a wet dog.
Leaving the boys and dog outside, I went into the house and ask for an old towel. “What happened?” Sherry ask turning from washing the dinner dishes.
“The boys threw a stick in the stream and Gib went after it. Jumped right off the bridge into the water.” I said with a smile. “Scared the living daylights out of a school of fish.”
She joined us in the side yard.
“Gib got a bath mommy.” Alex said.
“Daddy said we gotta take a bath in the tub.” Alvin said. “He wouldn’t let us take a bath in the
stream.”
Sherry put her finger to her chin. “Let’s walk back to the bridge. But you have got to put a leash on Gib.”
“Can we take our baths in the stream?” Alvin said.
“No but if daddy says it ok, you can swim in your underwear.” Sherry said looking at me. Actually, we had discussed this yesterday.
“Can we daddy, can we?” Alex said.
“Yeah, can we?” Alvin joined in.
“Ok but we need to wait while mommy gets some towels and dry underwear.” I said.
Ten minutes later two little boys and their puppy were happily splashing in the stream. Sherry and I had brought two camp stools along and watched from the bridge.
That night we stood watching from the doorway as the boys slept the puppy snuggled between them.
The next morning, I was in my study when I sensed movement. The puppy came over to where I was seated and lay down at my feet. A half hour later Alex stood at the doorway rubbing sleep out of his eyes. I held out my arms. He climbed into my lap and went back to sleep. Soon I looked up and Alvin walked in the room. I gave up studying and just held the boys while they slept. The next thing I knew I felt something wet and warm on my lips. I opened my eyes. Sherry smiled at me. Still in her nightgown she whispered. “Breakfast will be ready in about 20 minutes.”
“Thank you dear. We’ll be ready.” I roused the boys and sent them to dress. Putting a leash on him I took Gib for a walk.
Most Wednesday night services are not well attended. Shady Grove pulled in about a third of that we did Sunday morning. This was the backbone of the church. The women greeted my wife as if she were a long-lost friend. Margie Lang head of the women’s missionary society ask Sherry to take over as director.
“We have a long tradition of the pastor’s wife leading us women.” She said her eyes moist. “Our former pastor’s wife did until her death.”
“I would be honored.” Sherry said to the elderly woman. “Would it be possible for you to come by the house to orient me on the society’s goals and projects? Also if you would could you stay on as co-director?”
Margie Lang’s face brightened. She took Sherry’s hand in both of hers. “I would like that very much.” She said. I had an idea the women’s missionary society was her life.
The boys felt out of place that is until Kerry’s son introduced them to some boys and girls their own age. Kerry was smiling so much I ask him to share the news with the whole church.
He stood behind the pulpit shifting from one foot to the other. He wiped sweat from his forehead.
“I…I just wanted to let you know I found a bus. And I’ll be picking it up tomorrow m… morning.” He hurried back to set beside his wife and son. “Oh, I almost forgot. I’ll take it to Motormouth this Friday for painting.” Motormouth being the local Bodyshop.
I strove to the pulpit. Before I could say anything, Sam stood up in the back of the sanctuary.
He held his hat in his hands and cleared his throat. “I spoke outa turn last week. I shouldna done it.” He set back down.
“Thank you, Kerry and Sam., I appreciate what both of you had to say.”
I looked over the congregation. These were country people. People used to hard work. Of all the candidates they had chosen me to lead them. I didn’t know it at that time but in the days to come Harry Orhan would come to know The Lord. Sam would be one of Kerry’s greatest supporters and helpers on his bus. Over the next year we would add another bus with Sam as the driver and captain. That night as Sherry and I watched our sons sleep with the pup between them, we knew we had found a place to serve The Lord.
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Mike
11/05/2023Wow, i am just stunned by thinking how can a story be so good, honestly liked the plot and felt good about myself a bit too. Nice!
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Lillian Kazmierczak
11/05/2023Darrell, what a fantastic story! I love your stories about everyday people and life. They are always feel good stories that prove people and life are still good! A heartwarming short story star of the day!
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Gerald R Gioglio
11/05/2023Loved the dialog, Darrell. So true to time and place. Enjoyed the tale. Happy Storystar day, grg
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