Tag Archives: Christmas

Chapter 29 My Berra (from The Cemetery Wives)

29 MY BERRA

In celebration of Christmas week, I offer you a rare mid-week post, Chapter 29 taken from The Cemetery Wives, by Cherry Odelberg. Now available on Amazon as an ebook or softcover. The Cemetery Wives is a work of fiction. Chapter 29, however, is pretty much how it happened.

The seminary patrons had done it again! The last Tuesday of classes, the school paper, Kathive, came off the presses proudly displaying a black and white picture on the front page. The picture was of a ten-foot, fully decorated Christmas tree in the lobby of the president’s office. Close to one hundred wrapped gifts were stacked around the base of the tree. A plush teddy bear with a huge bow sat looking at the spectacle with large, warm eyes. “Students, are you married with children?” asked the caption. “Be sure and check your box for a ticket to pick up your numbered gift on Friday.” Jon was elated when he showed the student papertoCarriethatafternoon. Shequicklycaughthis excitement. Then, Abby leaned out from her place on Carrie’s hip and pointed, “Das mye berah. Dat berah for Abby. Hug.” She tried to mash the paper to her.

The Wednesday morning MOPS meeting was alive with rejoicing and celebration among the cemetery wives. Poppy Sue listened to their chatter with a knowing smile on her face – the type of smile that inevitably goes with Christmas secrets. In her morning announcements, she explained,

“There are some people, three or four families actually, closely connected to the seminary, who have made it a tradition to give a family gift to the seminary

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each year. As I said, these are families. They believe children and a secure family life are the backbone of ministry and the hope of our nation. These donors chose to give anonymously, sometimes through me to MOPS – that is where your MOPS reading library came from – sometimes through Luke’s Closet or the President’s office. These are the same people responsible for the highchairs in the student center. This year, they thought presents to the children might be nice.” Who knew whether Poppy Sue was the instigator, or maybe a combination of the women who volunteered at Luke’s Closet? Sally Bancroft clearly knew, but wouldn’t tell. The young mothers charged Poppy Sue and Sally with the responsibility of conveying to the anonymous families how excited and thankful they were. Again, just like Thanksgiving, there was a turkey for each family at the food pantry that afternoon.

By Thursday, Jonathan Bach had his numbered ticket. On Friday, he stood in the queue of sport coat and tie clad students to match his number. Thirteen shouldn’t be hard to find. Still, he had to ask for help from one of the ladies. After turning over a few of the packages herself without success, she said, “Let me check the list. What’s your name?”

“Jonathan Bach.”

“Bach? Like the composer?” She consulted a clipboard. “Oh here you are. The bear is for you. We clipped the number on the backside of the bow, to hide it for the picture the other day. No one turned it around.”

Jonathan was speechless. He could barely breathe out a thank you.

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“Are you okay?” asked the woman. Jon collected himself.

“Out of the mouths of babes,” he said, “your daughters will prophesy.” She waited. “Last Tuesday night,” said Jon, “when Abby – she is 18 months old. When Abby saw the black and white photo in the student paper, she said, ‘that’s my bear.’”

“Mr. Bach, That’s a story that Mary Eileen and Vonnie will love to hear over and over,” said the woman. “Merry Christmas!”

And so, Christmas came to the beleaguered little Bach family. There was a new teddy bear for Abby. There was Christmas turkey with all the trimmings on the table. There were the little niceties only a creative and frugal woman like Carrie could provide; a new tie and matching pocket hankie for Jon, looking suspiciously like a dress Carrie made a few years back. There were hugs. There were tears. There were phone calls home to distant family. There were six more days to the end of the year in which to eat turkey leftovers. But there were no more weekly food pantry portions. Everyone was on Christmas break.