Every now and then you come across a classic story that leaves a lasting
impression. The story I am about to share with you is a true story about
a person by the name of Pastor Rob Reid. I want to thank Theresa
Taillefer, a friend and parent of one of my students, for sending me the
story. It is one which my readers are sure to appreciate and one which
proves that everything in our life happens for a reason. We may not
fully understand why at the time, but the true meaning usually comes out
in the end. I would suggest that you have kleenex handy when you read
this story.
“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 the 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 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 table cloth with exquisite work, fine colours
and a Cross embroidered right in the centre. 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
centre 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 hand 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 Nazi
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 house cleaning
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 the
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 Nazi came; how he forced his wife to flee for
her safety; and how he was supposed to follow her. But he was arrested
and put in a prison. He never saw his wife or his home again in all of
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.”
Everything happens for a reason. Don’t waste your time questioning
fate. Just accept it and let life unfold as it was intended. Above all,
allow yourself to see the beautiful things that fate brings to us every
day.
Have a good week!
