The Christmas Pin Society
by
Copyright © 2006
Chapter Nine
December 18th finally arrived. I awoke early and more easily than usual from an unexpected, but welcomed good night's sleep. While I showered and dressed, Frank had gone downstairs to put on the coffee and start breakfast. Before joining him, I opened my Christmas pin box, and took one last look at the glistening ornaments. I picked out the criss-crossed candy cane pin, and pinned it just under my left shoulder. It stood out cheerfully against my cream-colored sweater. I closed the box and whispered a prayer that God's will be done today. Placing the box with Hannah's, I went downstairs.
In their continued efforts to help me during this busy time, Frank and Isabel served breakfast. It was delicious and greatly appreciated. We took this time to relax and enjoy the peace of the morning. Frank opened the paper where there appeared one last reminder of today's event. For a brief moment I wondered how many people would come. One of the good things about living in a small, northeastern town like Evergreen is that this is home for the holidays. Children and grandchildren flock back from all over the country to enjoy the Christmas of their childhood memories, and to be re-acquainted with "old" friends.
Lunch was planned for twelve-thirty, followed by the auction. I arrived at the community center at ten o'clock to assist with any last minute details, and to help place the pins on the display table. Everything looked grand. Crystal Schulen was an energetic, good-humored woman who was perfectly suited to her job as the community center's supervisor. Her organizational skills allowed for many activities to be enjoyed there; exercise classes, seminars, senior activities, teen socials, and the like. Today she had once again proven her abilities; thirty tables were set for lunch, a decorated Christmas tree echoed the festivities and volunteers were busily preparing the auction area on the stage at the front of the main room.
As the food began to arrive at the back entrance to the kitchen, I couldn't help but admire the wonderful people of this town; the way they pulled together to help make this event the best it could be, though I shouldn’t be surprised. This was not the first time the people of Evergreen volunteered their hearts and talents to help others, and most likely it would not be the last.
My friends arrived and joined me on the stage where our collection of pins laid displayed and ready to be viewed by incoming guests. Our families were gathered together to enjoy the festivities and to bring moral support. The local papers and television stations sent cameramen and journalists for photographs and interviews covering the event. The din of the hustle and bustle surrounded me as my attention rested on my loving friends; cheerful in mind and heart, all wearing the first pins given to them. These we decided not to part with, as they represented the memories of how our tradition began, and the foundation on which this special moment was built. The jewelry was lavishly displayed, and the four of us took pleasure in reminiscing who gave what to whom. But I could not help thinking of our missing friend. I said a little prayer for Hannah; for her heart, her life. I noticed Elizabeth and Andrew sitting with my family. She waved, and I motioned to her to stay seated as I left the stage and made my way towards their table. I bent down and gave her a hug. "I'm glad you came, dear," I said. She smiled, "I wouldn't have missed this. Besides, I'm here for mom, too."
As I walked to the table I would be sharing with Angel, Belinda, Kathy, and the Harris', I thanked God for the abundant attendance. Nearly every table was filled. I joined the others already seated. "God's grace is here today," Joanne Harris observed. Her husband, Rob, was seated to her left and she was holding his hand. "We're going to eat now!" exclaimed Billy, as the food made its entrance. He rubbed the palms of his hands together in anticipation; his face bright and smiling.
When all were served, a hush came over the room as our pastor stood on the stage to give thanks, and ask for God's blessing on this enterprise. The room filled with a resounding "Amen".
God's grace was there that day; and except for Ben, no one here would have privy to its great creative force and imagination which was presenting itself in other hearts at that very hour. While we enjoyed a delicious meal, God's angels were busy; and the "Amen" of many prayers were about to bear fruit.
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