A brand-new pastor and his wife were newly assigned to their first
ministry, to reopen a church in suburban Brooklyn (part of New York City).
They 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. On
December 18, they 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. It was just behind the pulpit, beginning about head high.
The pastor cleaned up the mess on the floor. Not knowing what else to
do, except postpone the Christmas Eve service, he headed home. On the way,
he noticed that a local business was having a flea-market-type charity
sale, 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 white as 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, as 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.
