The Christmas Bus (3 page)

Edith found her regular seat, second row on the left, next to the aisle, and sat down, waiting for the service to begin. The midweek service was always rather small, generally not more than twenty people in all—only the most devout or those who wished to appear so. Edith watched as Marie Williams made her way to the organ. Marie had shown up in Christmas Valley nearly twenty years ago, after her husband had suddenly died while they were on the road looking for work. Broke and in need of employment, Marie was hired by Edith to help with housework, but when Edith discovered that Marie played the organ, she enticed Charles to hire her on as the church organist. Of course, they couldn’t afford to pay her much, but Marie said she would’ve gladly played for free. Still a young and attractive woman (she had been in her twenties back then), it wasn’t long before Marie married one of the town’s most eligible bachelors, Arnie Williams. And although she no longer needed the job as church organist, she continued to play for all these years out of pure love and loyalty.

Edith leaned back into the pew, relaxing as she listened to the soothing sound of Marie’s gifted fingers moving gracefully over the keyboard. Ah, what would they do without her? It wasn’t long before Charles made his way to the front of the church and up to the pulpit. As usual, he greeted everyone, made a comment on the warmer than normal weather, and then repeated a humorous story that he’d read in
Reader’s Digest
(his favorite source for jokes and anecdotes). The congregation laughed politely, and then he led them in a song and began his sermon. Just like usual.

But, not a bit like usual, Edith was distracted with her own dismal thoughts about how Christmas would not be the same, and how, without her children, it would be bleak and sad. Consequently, she missed the entire first half of her husband’s sermon—something she hadn’t done since the time when Krista, at the age of six, had pulled out her loose front tooth and bled all over Edith’s best blue suit in the middle of a midweek service.

However, when Edith realized that she hadn’t been listening to a single word her good husband had been saying, feeling like a child who’d been caught sleeping during mathematics, she sat up straighter and adjusted her gaze directly ahead and even smiled, ever so slightly. Hopefully, Charles hadn’t noticed her little faux pas. He certainly had her undivided attention now!

“Our Lord reminded his disciples to show hospitality. He said there could be times when they might help or bless a stranger and in reality be blessing him. Be mindful of this as so many of you open your homes to family and loved ones and life becomes somewhat hectic. Perhaps it is in those moments, when all is not going smoothly and well, perhaps that is the very moment when you might discover the Lord is right there in your midst.”

Edith leaned forward just slightly, a bit dismayed at the irony of her husband speaking of hospitality and opening up one’s home while their own home would be noticeably empty this year. Of course, he wasn’t aware of this yet.

“But will you be ready?” he said now, looking earnestly over his listeners. “Will your heart be ready to greet our Lord? Let me read a passage from Hebrews 13:1–2,” he continued as he opened his new leather Bible. Charles had recently purchased a somewhat nontraditional Bible version and had even started using it during his sermons. Edith wasn’t sure what church members would think of this modern translation since they were more accustomed to the old-fashioned and traditional Bibles, but so far no one had commented or complained. Perhaps no one had even noticed.

“‘Stay on good terms with each other,’ ” he read slowly, putting emphasis on each word, “‘held together by love.’ ” He paused, adjusted his bifocals, and smiled at the congregation. “Isn’t that just beautiful?
Held together by love
.” Then he continued to read. “And then it says, ‘Be ready with a meal or a bed when it’s needed. Why, some have extended hospitality to angels without ever knowing it!’ ”

Edith listened as he continued to expound on this idea of getting along with each other, encouraging the congregation to outdo each other in the areas of love and hospitality. It really was a perfect pre-Christmas theme, especially in regard to some of the less than loving and slightly divisive comments that Olive and Helen had made earlier this week. Now Edith wondered if Charles hadn’t been aware of this all along. Naturally, he wouldn’t have mentioned it.

But Edith put thoughts of Olive and Helen aside as she listened to his words. And then, just as she normally did, she began to apply those meaningful words to the state of her own heart, and by the time he finished his sermon and Marie was back at the organ, Edith had tears running down both cheeks. So it was that Edith knew exactly what needed to be done!

3

After the service ended, Edith made an effort at congeniality with fellow parishioners, but all she could think was that she wanted to get home as quickly as possible. Or as her old grandmother might’ve once said, Edith had a bee in her bonnet.

“Yes, Olive,” she said with as much patience as she could muster, “the nativity costumes are still up in the attic.” She wanted to add “just like they always have been,” but instead she said, “Come on over and get them anytime you like.” Olive had taken it upon herself to head up the church’s annual nativity play this year. For the past ten years her daughter Judy had managed this challenging task, but Judy and her husband had relocated to Portland last year, and Olive had promised to handle the program for her. Edith just hoped, for the sake of the church, that Olive was up to it.

“I’ll give you a call this week,” said Olive as she jotted down something in a little black notebook.

“You’re certainly organized,” observed Edith.

Olive smiled, perhaps a bit smugly. “Judy explained her whole system to me. It’s really quite brilliant, if I do say so myself.”

Edith patted Olive on the arm. “I sure do miss Judy. She did such a great job with the children and Sunday school. How does she like Portland?”

Olive made a face. “Not very much, I’m afraid. She says the traffic is horrible. If it weren’t for Ron’s job, I’m sure they’d be back here in no time. But at least they’ll all be here for Christmas. And I don’t want her to be disappointed in the nativity play. Goodness gracious, but I’ve got a lot to do!”

Edith considered offering to help, but only for a second or two. She knew that Olive had certain ways of doing things, and in all likelihood Edith would only get in her way. Besides that, Edith was still not completely over Olive’s less than kind comments about Charles’s age. Maybe managing the nativity play on her own would remind her that they were all getting up there in years, and that it didn’t hurt to lean on each other a bit, or to cut each other a bit of grace from time to time—something like tonight’s sermon. Edith simply smiled and said she’d better be getting home now.

She waved a little good-bye to Charles, who was caught in what looked like an interesting conversation between Mrs. Fish and Peter Simpson. Peter had gone to school with their boys but somehow managed to eke out a living as an artist and part-time handyman here in town. If memory served her right, he’d also been in Mrs. Fish’s class before she retired. Edith was slightly curious as to what the three of them were talking about in such an animated fashion, but she was also eager to get home.

She hurried across the street and into the house, heading straight for her little desk in the kitchen. Without even taking off her sweater, she turned on her computer and sat down, waiting for the screen to come to life. Funny, how she’d fought against the idea of owning a computer—so technical and impersonal—but eventually her children got to her. “How will we keep in touch?” demanded Katie after having her first baby several years ago. “If you had a computer, we could email each other every day, and I’d even send photos of the baby that you could see immediately.”

Well, that settled it. And the next time Tommy had a couple of days to spare, he helped his mother to set up a computer and even gave her some beginner lessons—mostly how to turn it off and on and how to play Spider Solitaire, which still probably occupied far too much of her time. But after a while, she had the good sense to get some serious computer tutoring from Jared Renwick, a local teen who was also a computer whiz. She eventually got the hang of it, and now, thanks to Jared, who had recently started his own small computer business, she even had a website for the bed and breakfast that could be accessed by people from all over the world. Amazing, really.

She emailed Jared now. “Dear Jared,” she carefully typed, still using the formal and, according to her children, “old-fashioned” greeting. They usually just wrote “Hey Mom” or sometimes launched right into their latest news without a proper heading. But she still liked to start all email correspondence with “Dear”—it just seemed polite.

Dear Jared,

I’ve just come up with a promotion idea that I’d like you to display on my website, that is if you’re not too busy. I want to announce that for the first time in the seventeen years of its operation, the Shepherd’s Inn will be open throughout the entire month of December. And also that, as a Christmas special, I will be offering a 25 percent discount to all guests. Plus, all guests will be included in all the Christmas activities at no additional cost, including the Christmas Eve party and Christmas dinner and so on. Can you please take care of this for me?

Sincerely,
       Edith Ryan

Then Edith hit the magical “send” button and returned to her currently empty email inbox and waited expectantly. Well, she didn’t really think he’d get back to her immediately, but sometimes he was a regular Johnny-on-the-spot. Still, when he didn’t respond after a couple of minutes, she decided to distract herself with a quick game of Spider Solitaire. What could it hurt? But before she’d even dealt the second row of cards, she heard the familiar little
bing-bing
sound, announcing that new mail had arrived. And sure enough, it was from Jared.

no problem, E. done deal. jr

She smiled to herself as she signed off, then shut down her computer. Despite his computer “shorthand,” Edith knew that Jared had taken care of everything. Just like that. Now, didn’t they live in an amazing era! Hopefully, she’d get some responses to her Christmas special by the end of the week. Guests, as instructed on the website, emailed or called Edith directly to book rooms, and she hoped that they’d have all five rooms booked by the weekend. Or at least some of them—perhaps it wasn’t imperative to have a full house, although that would be her preference. And who knew what kind of interesting guests they might have during the holidays. Perhaps like Charles had said tonight, they might even entertain angels or the Lord himself without ever knowing it.

She hummed to herself as she puttered in the kitchen, putting on the kettle for their nightly cup of tea, and as she measured the tea she imagined the sorts of people who might book rooms during the holidays. Perhaps there would be some older couples who, like Edith and Charles, didn’t have family to gather with this year. Or maybe a young family who’d recently relocated from the East Coast, finding themselves without relatives nearby. Well, Edith and Charles could become their temporary family! And they would show their guests the best sort of hospitality that a place like Christmas Valley had to offer. Really, it would be such fun! Perhaps it truly was a blessing in disguise that her children were unable to come this year. It would give her the opportunity to really reach out to people who might otherwise have a sad and lonely Christmas. A chance to practice real hospitality—just the way the good Lord intended. She couldn’t wait to tell Charles about her plan!

The kettle was just beginning to sing when Charles came into the kitchen. Edith turned and smiled at her husband. “I have a surprise for you!”

At first Charles, like she had been, was dismayed to hear that none of their children would be coming home for Christmas, but she quickly moved into the second part of her surprise, and before long his eyes lit up too.

“That’s wonderful, dear,” he said as he set his mug of orange pekoe tea down on the small kitchen table. “You may be the only one who actually took my little sermon seriously.”

“What do you mean?”

He waved his hand in a dismissive way. “Oh, nothing, really.”

“What?” she insisted, leaning forward to listen.

“Oh, I think that some members of our congregation may think that angels are an antiquated old fairy tale.”

She frowned. “That’s too bad.”

He nodded. “Yes. Mrs. Fish is certain that angels only visited the biblical characters, not modern-day people like us.” He shook his head. “And Peter Simpson believes that angels are simply metaphorical, symbols of God’s attempt to reach mankind, or something to that effect.”

“Oh . . .”

Charles shrugged. “I was beginning to feel that I’m a bit out of touch with my parishioners.”

Edith didn’t speak, but she was considering what Polly had told her about Helen and Olive and their concern that Charles was getting old.

Then her husband smiled. “But now I come home to discover that my own dear wife has taken my words to heart.” He reached over and put his hand on hers. “That is a great comfort.”

“It’s a comfort to me too,” she said. “I was so discouraged to think that our kids weren’t coming. It just didn’t seem like Christmas.”

“I wonder who the Lord will bring to our home,” he mused. “Perhaps we should take a few minutes to pray about this, Edith, to invite our Lord to direct the right people to us—the ones who need a bit of Christmas Valley cheer and hospitality to warm their hearts. Do you think?”

She nodded and bowed her head, and together they asked God to guide the perfect people to the Shepherd’s Inn for the holidays.

“Isn’t it exciting?” she said when they finished.

He squeezed her hand and nodded. “Yes, dear, it is!”

But the next day came, and not one phone call, not one email had arrived by the afternoon. Even so, Edith busied herself with the same sort of preparations she would do when expecting her family to fill the house. She even called Polly to tell her of the plan.