This is the English version of
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 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. and on Dec 18 were ahead of schedule and just about finished. On
Dec 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 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 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
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 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, 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.
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True Story - submitted by Pastor Rob Reid Who says God does not
work in mysterious ways.
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