The brand new pastor and his wife, newly assigned to their first ministry, to reopen a church in suburban Brooklyn, arrived in early October excited about their opportunities. When they saw their church, it was very run down and needed much work. They set a goal to have everything done in time to have their first service on Christmas Eve.
They worked hard, repairing pews, plastering walls, painting, etc, and on December 18 were ahead of schedule and just about finished.
On December 19 a terrible tempest - a driving rainstorm hit the area and lasted for two days.
On the 21st, the pastor went over to the church. His heart sank when he saw that the roof had leaked, causing a large area of plaster about 20 feet by 8 feet to fall off the front wall of the sanctuary just behind the pulpit, beginning about head high.
The pastor cleaned up the mess on the floor, and not knowing what else to do but postpone the Christmas Eve service, headed home. On the way he noticed that a local business was having a flea market type sale for charity, so he stopped in. One of the items was a beautiful, handmade, ivory coloured, crocheted tablecloth with exquisite work, fine colours and a Cross embroidered right in the centre. It was just the right size to cover the hole in the front wall. He bought it and headed back to the church.
By this time it had started to snow. An older woman running from the opposite direction was trying to catch the bus. She missed it. The pastor invited her to wait in the warm church for the next bus 45 minutes later.
She sat in a pew and paid no attention to the pastor while he got a ladder, hangers, etc, to put up the tablecloth as a wall tapestry. The pastor could hardly believe how beautiful it looked and it covered up the entire problem area.
Then he noticed the woman walking down the centre aisle. Her face was white like a sheet.
"Pastor,” she asked, "where did you get that tablecloth?"
The pastor explained. The woman asked him to check the lower right corner to see if the initials, EBG were crocheted into it there. They were. These were the initials of the woman, and she had made this tablecloth 35 years before, in Austria.
The woman could hardly believe it as the pastor told how he had just gotten "The Tablecloth". The woman explained that before the war she and her husband were well-to-do people in Austria.
When the Nazis came, she was forced to leave. Her husband was going to follow her the next week. He was captured, sent to prison and never saw her husband or her home again
The pastor wanted to give her the tablecloth; but she made the pastor keep it for the church. The pastor insisted on driving her home. That was the least he could do. She lived on the other side of Staten Island and was only in Brooklyn for the day for a housecleaning job.
What a wonderful service they had on Christmas Eve. The church was almost full. The music and the spirit were great. At the end of the service, the pastor and his wife greeted everyone at the door and many said that they would return.
One older man, whom the pastor recognized from the neighbourhood continued to sit in one of the pews and stare, and the pastor wondered why he wasn't leaving.
The man asked him where he got the tablecloth on the front wall because it was identical to one that his wife had made years ago when they lived in Austria before the war and how could there be two tablecloths so much alike.
He told the pastor how the Nazis came, how he forced his wife to flee for her safety and he was supposed to follow her, but he was arrested and put in a prison. He never saw his wife or his home again all the 35 years between.
The pastor asked him if he would allow him to take him for a little ride. They drove to Staten Island and to the same house where the pastor had taken the woman three days earlier.
He helped the man climb the three flights of stairs to the woman's apartment, knocked on the door and he saw the greatest Christmas reunion he could ever imagine.
Written by Howard C. Schade and printed in Alice Gray’s Christmas Stories for the Heart in 1998, and in the December 1954 issue of Reader’s Digest.
The few details contained in the tale seem to indicate that the couple separated sometime after the German annexation of Austria (also known as the Anschluss) in 1938, which means that if their story had been written in 1954, they [would] have been split up for more than 16 years.”
Source: Snopes.com
Bflygal comments:
The Christchurch earthquake had been my morning news for the past few days. I remember when I first heard about it from my brother, I thought of my friend in Christchurch (thank goodness for FB, that I learnt she is safe). I remember I cried upon learning that some victims who did not make it, and I asked myself why am I here and what can I do to help. I remember the day the media was finally allowed to view the quake carnage, in 2 busloads of journalists and photographers, what it felt like when they stopped at an international educational centre where children were supposedly trapped. And it is indeed painful for these journalists to bring the message back to their own homelands.
So while reading this story, even if it isn’t true, I just felt that sometimes, disaster strike for a reason. We may not see it now, we may not see it 3 days later but if we stay strong and continue as planned what we wanted to do, we may find what we least expected. Because imagine if the pastor had really given up and postponed the Christmas Eve service, would the couple ever reunite?
Anyway I remembered in this morning news, I had found a pastor words very thought provoking.
1. He had commented that it is not only the significant Christ Church Cathedral that had collapsed, and there are many other significant churches and cathedrals damaged. 3 men who were supposed to remove an organ had died under the merciless hands of the earthquake. Sigh, the grief felt by their loved ones must be immense.
2. He had prayed that the excavation workers to first and foremost take extra care and caution in doing their job. And secondly, to recover the dead bodies as precariously as possible so as to return them to their loved ones. Indeed, respect must still be given to these dead bodies because it is the only precious thing left to their loved ones.
3. He had asked for all to pray, regardless of race and religion, in their own respective beliefs. And I recalled how the news here kept talking about sending their aid over to NZ to help. And that my friend told me back in SG, the news also talk about how they are sending THEIR aid over to help. Actually to the Kiwis, where these help are coming from probably isn’t important. They treasure every little help and assistance rendered to them.
Thus I guess praying is the only thing I can do now. Praying that there will be no more hoaxes which will waste these workers’ time and effort. Praying that there would be more miracles. Praying that people will be able to return to normalcy soon.
Note: 3 weeks later, as Prince William is preparing to visit the disaster zone which was off to everybody still, one can see that there is still much to be done. Sigh.
They worked hard, repairing pews, plastering walls, painting, etc, and on December 18 were ahead of schedule and just about finished.
On December 19 a terrible tempest - a driving rainstorm hit the area and lasted for two days.
On the 21st, the pastor went over to the church. His heart sank when he saw that the roof had leaked, causing a large area of plaster about 20 feet by 8 feet to fall off the front wall of the sanctuary just behind the pulpit, beginning about head high.
The pastor cleaned up the mess on the floor, and not knowing what else to do but postpone the Christmas Eve service, headed home. On the way he noticed that a local business was having a flea market type sale for charity, so he stopped in. One of the items was a beautiful, handmade, ivory coloured, crocheted tablecloth with exquisite work, fine colours and a Cross embroidered right in the centre. It was just the right size to cover the hole in the front wall. He bought it and headed back to the church.
By this time it had started to snow. An older woman running from the opposite direction was trying to catch the bus. She missed it. The pastor invited her to wait in the warm church for the next bus 45 minutes later.
She sat in a pew and paid no attention to the pastor while he got a ladder, hangers, etc, to put up the tablecloth as a wall tapestry. The pastor could hardly believe how beautiful it looked and it covered up the entire problem area.
Then he noticed the woman walking down the centre aisle. Her face was white like a sheet.
"Pastor,” she asked, "where did you get that tablecloth?"
The pastor explained. The woman asked him to check the lower right corner to see if the initials, EBG were crocheted into it there. They were. These were the initials of the woman, and she had made this tablecloth 35 years before, in Austria.
The woman could hardly believe it as the pastor told how he had just gotten "The Tablecloth". The woman explained that before the war she and her husband were well-to-do people in Austria.
When the Nazis came, she was forced to leave. Her husband was going to follow her the next week. He was captured, sent to prison and never saw her husband or her home again
The pastor wanted to give her the tablecloth; but she made the pastor keep it for the church. The pastor insisted on driving her home. That was the least he could do. She lived on the other side of Staten Island and was only in Brooklyn for the day for a housecleaning job.
What a wonderful service they had on Christmas Eve. The church was almost full. The music and the spirit were great. At the end of the service, the pastor and his wife greeted everyone at the door and many said that they would return.
One older man, whom the pastor recognized from the neighbourhood continued to sit in one of the pews and stare, and the pastor wondered why he wasn't leaving.
The man asked him where he got the tablecloth on the front wall because it was identical to one that his wife had made years ago when they lived in Austria before the war and how could there be two tablecloths so much alike.
He told the pastor how the Nazis came, how he forced his wife to flee for her safety and he was supposed to follow her, but he was arrested and put in a prison. He never saw his wife or his home again all the 35 years between.
The pastor asked him if he would allow him to take him for a little ride. They drove to Staten Island and to the same house where the pastor had taken the woman three days earlier.
He helped the man climb the three flights of stairs to the woman's apartment, knocked on the door and he saw the greatest Christmas reunion he could ever imagine.
Written by Howard C. Schade and printed in Alice Gray’s Christmas Stories for the Heart in 1998, and in the December 1954 issue of Reader’s Digest.
The few details contained in the tale seem to indicate that the couple separated sometime after the German annexation of Austria (also known as the Anschluss) in 1938, which means that if their story had been written in 1954, they [would] have been split up for more than 16 years.”
Source: Snopes.com
Bflygal comments:
The Christchurch earthquake had been my morning news for the past few days. I remember when I first heard about it from my brother, I thought of my friend in Christchurch (thank goodness for FB, that I learnt she is safe). I remember I cried upon learning that some victims who did not make it, and I asked myself why am I here and what can I do to help. I remember the day the media was finally allowed to view the quake carnage, in 2 busloads of journalists and photographers, what it felt like when they stopped at an international educational centre where children were supposedly trapped. And it is indeed painful for these journalists to bring the message back to their own homelands.
So while reading this story, even if it isn’t true, I just felt that sometimes, disaster strike for a reason. We may not see it now, we may not see it 3 days later but if we stay strong and continue as planned what we wanted to do, we may find what we least expected. Because imagine if the pastor had really given up and postponed the Christmas Eve service, would the couple ever reunite?
Anyway I remembered in this morning news, I had found a pastor words very thought provoking.
1. He had commented that it is not only the significant Christ Church Cathedral that had collapsed, and there are many other significant churches and cathedrals damaged. 3 men who were supposed to remove an organ had died under the merciless hands of the earthquake. Sigh, the grief felt by their loved ones must be immense.
2. He had prayed that the excavation workers to first and foremost take extra care and caution in doing their job. And secondly, to recover the dead bodies as precariously as possible so as to return them to their loved ones. Indeed, respect must still be given to these dead bodies because it is the only precious thing left to their loved ones.
3. He had asked for all to pray, regardless of race and religion, in their own respective beliefs. And I recalled how the news here kept talking about sending their aid over to NZ to help. And that my friend told me back in SG, the news also talk about how they are sending THEIR aid over to help. Actually to the Kiwis, where these help are coming from probably isn’t important. They treasure every little help and assistance rendered to them.
Thus I guess praying is the only thing I can do now. Praying that there will be no more hoaxes which will waste these workers’ time and effort. Praying that there would be more miracles. Praying that people will be able to return to normalcy soon.
Note: 3 weeks later, as Prince William is preparing to visit the disaster zone which was off to everybody still, one can see that there is still much to be done. Sigh.
