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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 Dec 18 were ahead
of schedule and just about finished. On Dec 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 colored, crocheted tablecloth with
exquisite work, fine colors and a Cross embroidered right in the
center. It was just the right size to cover up 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 center aisle.
Her face was 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. She 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
neighborhood, 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 in
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.
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