The Christmas Pin Society
by
Copyright © 2006
Chapter Seven
The town was buzzing with excitement. I was able to procure the community center for the event. The date was set for Saturday, December 18th. Belinda and Paul arrived in time to help. Belinda and Kathy visited a few local restaurants, whose proprietors were happy to provide the food and drinks necessary for the luncheon. Paul helped our husbands keep the homefires burning by keeping our families on track during this hectic time. Angel's public relations announcement in all the local and surrounding area papers, as well as her brief appearance on the local news, successfully reached a broad spectrum of communities; and one of the local station's national affiliate gave it air-time. I was awestruck with how easily things were falling into place. But the circumstance which struck me most profoundly was the call I received from Mrs. Harris, inviting me to her home for an introduction and tea.
I promptly arrived at the Harris' home. As I walked up the stairs to the porch, Mrs. Harris opened the front door to welcome me. Joanne Harris was a slender, pretty woman. Though simple in style, she had an elegance of posture and demeanor. She wore little makeup, which allowed the glow of her complexion to emanate her inner light. Her chestnut hair, which showed hints of gray here and there, was neatly pulled back, and formed into a small, braided knot at the nape of her neck. Her eyes beamed with delight, as she opened her arms embracing me with a warm welcome. Invited in, I was immediately enveloped by the home's sense of love and tranquility. It was modest by material standards, but had a rich, emanating warmth much like its keeper. Everything was in its place; clean and inviting.
We sat down to tea in a small, sunny front room. Everything was prepared and waiting, as if she knew, without a doubt, I would be on time. As Joanne poured the tea into perfectly shaped cups, patterned with dainty violets, she asked me to help myself to the festively decorated Christmas cookies on the matching plate. "These were my grandmother's," she said of the cup and saucer, as she gingerly handed it to me. "They are a reminder of the tea-times I shared with her. Those were happy times for me," she continued. I could see the remembrance in her eyes, and it caused me to smile. She said a simple prayer of gratitude for this moment, and sipped her tea.
We chatted about this-and-that for awhile; general things to acquaint ourselves with each other. Afterward, she briefly described Billy's condition. We spoke about the plans for the event, and I shared with her the encouraging success of each participant. Joy, rather than surprise, radiated from her. There was a grace about her. She had a poise of grandness. "If I may, Joanne, how do you do it?" I asked. "How do you remain calm under such a heavy burden?" She slowly put her hand to her shoulder, where her fingers gently touched a tiny, gold cross pinned to the collar of her blouse. I didn't notice it before. I wondered how I missed it earlier as I visually took her in. "I trust in Him," were her quiet, simple words. She looked directly into my eyes. "I have prayed fervidly these past months," she said. "I wonder if you know what a blessing you and your friends are, Emma. Thank you for allowing God to work through you." Her eyes filled with tears. I was speechless ~ for once.
Billy excitedly burst into the room with the news of the season's first snow. Besides being noticeably out of breath, he looked and seemed like any other boy of his age. One would never have guessed the danger that lurked within. Joanne introduced her son to me. He politely shook my hand with a smile identical to his mother's. "Pleased to meet you," he said. "Pleased to meet you," I emphasized. He stood by his mother; his arm about her neck as he leaned into her. I could tell that they meant the world to each other, and my heart seemed to pause as my mind framed the sweet pose before me. For one second I thought of Mary and her boy, Jesus.
As I came to myself, I stood and gathered my purse and gloves. Putting on my coat, I was surprised to realize I had been there only a little over an hour; it seemed much longer. I felt as if I had known them for years. They walked me to the door. "Emma," Joanne broke the silence, "what can I do to help with the luncheon?" she asked. "Come," I replied. "If possible, your family's presence would be a great honor." "We'll come," she answered. I thanked her for her hospitality. We embraced good-bye, and I turned toward the porch. The snow was coming down softly. As I got into my car, I gave one last look at the mother and child, and they waved one last time as I drove away.
All the way home there was an unusual quietness in the car. I hardly noticed the sound of the other vehicles passing by, and I did not have the urge to turn on the Christmas music which would normally have been playing on the radio. I noticed the surprise and wonderment I felt earlier, at the ease with which all of this was falling into place, had left me. I thought of Joanne's prayers and her faith which seemed to spill over into confidence; and there was the beauty of all of this, I realized ~ faith so strong that it reaches the level of confidence. She knew God would somehow arrange for her son's good health; therefore, when she heard how things were just falling into place, her reaction was not one of surprise. Thinking in those terms, everything began to make sense to me; my melancholy mood, having the television on just at the moment Billy's story was featured, and getting the idea for the auction. I suppose I and my dear friends fit very well into God's plans in answering a heartfelt prayer. Yes, the twenty minute drive home was quiet ~ the humbling kind; because humility is quiet.
No comments:
Post a Comment