WRITE 2 THE HEART
Stories that are aimed "Write 2 the Heart"
November 27, 2002
Cheryl Speir, Editor, moderator@write2theheart.com
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Today you get two stories for Thanksgiving! One by Diane
Dean White and the other by me. I hope you enjoy both.
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ANGEL AT MIDNIGHT
By Diane Dean White
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One year while waiting to move into our own home, we
rented an older house in town. It had bedrooms for our
children, a nice kitchen, dining area and large spacious
living room and enclosed front porch. Our bedroom was
at the front of the house and the children's were next to
the kitchen near the back.
As many older spacious homes have, this one had a
large attic that had been converted into a small studio
apartment. The young man who lived there, was always
polite but would soon be moving to another area and new job.
The children walked to their schools across the street, and
the play ground and library were close by. The apartment
upstairs remained empty for sometime.
With the coming of Thanksgiving, I was busy with preparations
for the children and the activities they were involved in. Among
my daily routine I hadn't notice the young mother and her little
girl until after they had move in. I immediately placed some
cookies on a plate and took our eighth grade daughter up the
side stairway to greet our new neighbors.
A young girl in her middle twenties stood in the doorway and
stepping back, asked us to come in. Her young daughter
spotted the cookies and gave us a bright cheerful grin. You
could tell they were Mother and daughter each had lovely
blond hair and kind smiles.
I introduced my daughter and myself and we talked about
the area for a few minutes and before leaving Mandy
volunteered to watch the little girl if her Mother was in need
of a babysitter. It turned out that she had her daughter
enrolled in day care while she was at work, but Saturdays
she might need to call on her. We assured her that was fine.
A few days before Thanksgiving, I realized how much I
missed our own stove and oven, which was packed away
while we were renting. And I made a mental note to clean
the oven before baking my pies. It was a gas stove, and
although I liked cooking over gas I'd always had an electric
stove before.
We were planning on grandparents, aunts, uncles, and
other family members to come and share the day. I also
sent a note to the gal in the apartment and invited she and
her daughter to join us. She stopped by later and thanked us
but said they would be going home that night to visit her
family for the holiday. Thanksgiving was just a few days away!
That evening after the children were in bed, I remembered the
oven and asked my husband if he would spray the oven
cleaner inside and lay papers under it. He took care of it while
I busied myself with other things, then we went to bed.
A little after midnight we awakened to someone banging at
the front door, and while grabbing our bathrobes, realized
there was smoke all over the place. I ran to the children's
rooms as my husband went to the door. There stood our
new neighbor and her little girl. They had just arrived home,
and she smelled smoke and called the fire department.
Within minutes they came with the siren on and burst into
the house. I had gathered the children onto the front porch,
wrapped in blankets, far away from the kitchen area.
Immediately the firemen realized where the smoke had
started and what had happened. In my haste to have a
clean oven, I forgot that paper to catch the grease doesn't
go under a gas oven, and although it had taken a few hours,
it had caught on fire and the smoke was spreading around
the house.
We felt awful. The damage was minimal, but most important
was our three children who had been sleeping nearby were
safe. After airing the house out, with the help of our friendly
fire department, we went back to bed, thankful everyone was
okay.
Thanksgiving came and we enjoyed pies baked in a clean
oven! A turkey, roasted in a clean oven and sweet potato
soufflé, cranberry sauce, other vegetables and favorite
dressings and trimmings. We were truly grateful for the
Lord's protection over us and for a kind neighbor upstairs.
As we looked forward to the Christmas holiday, I watched
for our neighbor and her little girl, having made some
eggnog and cookies, I wanted to invite them in. I also had
a special gift for each of them. But, the truth was, after that
evening when she came and knocked on our door, I hadn't
seen them again.
I made a trip up to their door and peaked in through the
window, the place was empty, as if nobody had even been
there. I tried contacting the landlord, but he didn't know
anything about them. It seemed incredible, I wanted to
thank them again. And the more I thought about it, the
more I realized their short stay had possibly saved us all
in an old house that could have gone up in flames so quickly.
A Thanksgiving Day doesn't go by but what I think of the
young mother and her entrance and exit in our lives. I will
never know why she was coming home so late that night,
she had been going to visit her own family for Thanksgiving.
I know God brings many people into our lives for various
reasons. An Angel? Perhaps. What I do know for certain,
is that each Thanksgiving I remember an old house with
young children, and I especially give thanks for the
messengers He sent, allowing us to celebrate many more
Thanksgiving Days. That is a special blessing from Him.
"Be not forgetful to entertain strangers, for thereby some
have entertained angels unawares."
Hebrews 13:2 KJV
© Diane Dean White 2002
Thelamb212 @ aol.com
(You are encouraged to write to the authors to let them
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Diane is a former newspaper reporter and freelance writer.
She and her husband Stephen are the parents of three grown
children, and two grand-gals. They make their home on the
South Carolina Coast where Diane continues her love for
writing. Her new book BEACH WALKS, a collection of
heartwarming stories, will be available in December. For
more information visit http://bw.newsmoose.com/
BEACH WALKS - By Diane Dean White and visit her web page at:
http://www.heartwarmers4u.com/members/?thelamb212
SEEDS OF ENCOURAGEMENT
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Thanksgiving Baskets
By Cheryl Speir
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This was the first time I had been asked to oversee
the distribution of our church's annual Thanksgiving
baskets for the needy. Each day the secretary would
give me list of names and tell me Mr. J called. again.
Getting the food together was easy. Local grocers
donated turkeys. A high school athletic group held a
canned food drive and prepared a presentation.
Volunteers sorted the cans and divide them up. The
boxes were given numbers to correspond to each family
receiving one.
I called the people who had been signed up and I
explained that in order to pick up their box, someone
in the family had to sit through a presentation given by
the high school. When I got to Mr. J's name, his phone
was disconnected. "Lord," I prayed, "somehow let this
family hear what time to be here."
It was raining hard the day of the distribution. I began
placing frozen turkeys in 150 boxes to hand out when
there was a knock at the door. Opening it, I found a
woman wanting her and her sisters' box now. I explained
that no boxes could be given out before the program
was over.
"Well, the twit that called me didn't say anything at all
about a program," she announced indignantly
"These young people have worked hard to collect the
canned goods and have only asked for twenty minutes
of your time." I wanted to say I was the twit so bad it hurt!
She brushed my words aside. "It's not worth my time to
sit through this, my sister is handicap and truly needs it,
but I am going home," she said in a huff.
"Couldn't you do it for your sisters' sake" I asked? She
turned and glared at me.
I was nearly finished with the turkeys when a soft, hesitant
knock came from the door. Bracing myself, I fully expected
to find someone else complaining about the "twit."
I found a man using his body to shield three children from
the wind and rain. He was holding a sad excuse for an
umbrella. It was torn, broken, and offered very little shelter.
The children reminded me of chicks under a hen's wing. A
teen was looking over his dads left shoulder, a child looked
out from under each arm.
"I'm Mr. J, I called about a basket for my family. I heard on
the radio that they were being given out today. Could you
look on your list and see if my name is there? Since no one
could reach me, I'll understand if it's not." His words were
spoken softly and humbly.
While he spoke, I watched the play of emotion on the children's
faces. The teen was holding his breath. I saw clearly on the
face of the two younger children that if their name wasn't on the
list, there would be no Thanksgiving dinner.
"Mr. J, your name is definitely on the list. I was praying that
somehow you would hear what time to come." I heard the teen
release his breath.
The rain continued to fall and the wind continued to blow, but
sunshine broke out on the faces in front of me.
"Then we better hurry and find seats," he exclaimed.
The rain no longer mattered; it was no longer something else
from which to protect his children. The children began skipping
and jumping. The teen ran a few steps ahead and turned to walk
backwards. "We're gong to have turkey," I heard him say. The
little boy turned to his sister, "I hope there is cranberry sauce,
I love cranberry sauce." I saw her nod in agreement.
After I watched them run to the church auditorium, I walked to
the shelf and picked up a can. I placed that extra can of
cranberry sauce in box number 118.
Cheryl Speir
moderator@write2theheart.com
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I am the founder and editor of Write 2 the Heart.
I live in South Mississippi with my wonderful husband
and a spoiled fat cat whose picture is on Write 2 the
Heart's web site.
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Letters From Our Readers
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Mary-Ellen...as always I enjoyed your writing this morning
in Write 2the Heart! Your writing is always a blessing!
Betty
*****
I thoroughly enjoyed "A Very Present Help." I could see
myself when my daughter, the oldest of my children,
left home. It was tough: especially her being a girl, but
a kind sister-in-Christ gave me a little booklet entitled,
"Mother, Let Go." It was awesome and by the time my
son left home, I no longer dreaded my children's
departures.
Thank you, Mary-Ellen, for a great story of inspiration.
Lots of love in Christ~~
Bonnie Q
*****
Cheryl,
I'm happy for you. A new stove will be nice. I have
an ancient Kelvinator, bought in 1952. Does that mean
it's an antique (like me) The only thing wrong with it is
the clock quit running, so the timer doesn't work.
When one of the men from out local appliance store
delivered our new Whirlpool refrigerator, (this is our third),
about ten years ago, he said that Kelvinator stove will
never wear out...it's electric. My youngest daughter
would have loved to have it because the oven temperature
always runs true. She has a nice new stove, but she said
the oven is not as reliable as mine. My husband and I use
the microwave 99.9% of the time now. It's so quick and easy.
Enjoy your new stove! Happy Thanksgiving!
Hugs,
Pat
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Cheryl's Corner
Tomorrow, we will be sitting down to a feast with our family
and friends. As I count my blessings I will be counting each
and every one of you. Thank you so much for the letters of
appreciation and encouragement you have sent over the years.
I want you to know you are all in my heart and in my prayers.
God Bless
Cheryl
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© 2002 Write 2 the Heart
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