It looked more like a bright white chapel than a church. It sat just off an old farm road outside of town. Nestled in a grove of ancient hemlock, a small creek trickled down a ravine between the parking lot and Faith Community Church. A footbridge spanned the ravine. A white gazebo perched on the edge opposite the parking lot offered a tranquil place for reflection. It was the perfect setting for a love story. The parking lot was three quarters full, yet it was a half an hour before the service would begin. People gathered at the entrance under a large roof covering a drop-off area.
Julie and Klaare sat in their car watching as more cars pulled into the lot. As people walked past Julie’s car, they smiled and waved. Even on this fourth visit Julie was assessing and building up courage to face a crowd of strangers. Klaare just followed Julie’s lead. After a few moments, Julie opened her door, offering a nervous sigh. Klaare followed suit. Unexpectedly, Julie heard her name called out. She turned, looking to see who might be calling to her. It was Harry McDonath.
“Julie, how are you? It is so good to see you.”
“Hello there, I thought this was your church—this is our fourth visit, but I haven’t seen you here. I’m so sorry about your friend Mr. McKenzie.”
“Yes, John and his wife . . .” Harry could say no more. He took a deep breath and changed the subject.
“It’s a fine church. I missed the last few Sundays, went to church over in Castleton. Our Pastor Kirk here is a military man like you and your husband. Where is your husband?”
“He didn’t come today. He’s sending me to do a little recon work . . . Oh, I’m sorry, let me introduce you to Klaare. Harry, this is Klaare. She’s from Estonia, a graduate exchange student at the college. She’s staying with us.”
“Nice to meet you, Klaare. How do you like our little village?”
“I love living with the Winslows, but the village is not very pleasant.”
“Julie, I’ve heard rumors about the goings-on. Are they true?”
“I don’t know what you’ve heard, but we have been having some trouble. It has not been the dream I thought it would be.”
“I’m so sorry, and now my old friend John McKenzie and his wife . . . oh dear. The world can be so ugly.” He looked away toward the woods behind the church.
“Have you heard anything about the McKenzies? I mean other than what’s been in the papers about the fire being suspicious. Who would do such a thing to such a nice gentleman?”
“He’s a good man and a gentleman. He used his wealth and influences to help a lot of people. He’s a good friend.” Harry stopped speaking again, he looked at his watch. “We’d better head over to the church.”
“Do you think it was some drug addict robbing them?”
Julie, Klaare, and Harry crossed the footbridge and walked past the gazebo. They were almost to the front door of the church when Harry stopped. Everyone had entered the church except the three of them.
Harry looked at Julie and then Klaare. “I know I can trust you. All my years as a real estate agent have taught me how to read people.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t want to divulge much at the moment, but because I was your agent when you bought the house, I’ll give you my opinion.”
Julie waited for him to continue. Whatever he said, she would let it go at face value and not question it further. Harry looked serious and took another deep breath.
“No.”
Julie wanted to ask more, but his one word spoke mountains. They walked on into the church. Just inside the front door a greeter smiled, shook their hands, and handed them a bulletin. It was a sincere smile and handshake.
Julie’s mind wandered. She just couldn’t concentrate on meeting new people. The foyer had groups of people chatting and hanging up their coats. The congregation looked to be made up of simple folk, farmers and lumberman types. Many offered Julie and Klaare warm greetings as Harry introduced them, but none of their names stuck in Julie’s mind. She felt guilty about it, but the word no just kept echoing in her head. Who, then, set the fire at the McKenzies’? Who do you suspect, Harry? Julie looked at him and knew that he sensed her question without her speaking it.
Organ music drifted into the foyer announcing the call to be seated. Klaare held Julie’s arm as they waited their turn to enter. The church was full. The only open seats were near the front. Julie and Klaare felt self-conscious as they walked down the aisle, the last two to find an open spot. In the past they had arrived early, securing seats in the rear of the church. Julie clutched her Bible against her chest. Klaare, wide-eyed, looked about, admiring the stained-glass windows, the large wooden cross behind the altar, the artful tapestries, and wooden planking high up on the cathedral ceiling. The church appeared much larger inside than it looked from the outside. Julie bowed her head, closing her eyes in prayer. Klaare watched her but did not follow her lead.
Julie glanced toward the back of the church where Harry sat with friends. They all had their heads bowed for prayer, but as if he sensed her, Harry opened his eyes, catching Julie’s gaze. He tightened his lips and gave her a knowing nod, then closed his eyes again. Julie looked around the church, wondering who knew what. These were simple folk, but they weren’t stupid. They weren’t town people, but from the surrounding countryside. She thought they probably owed no loyalties to the town, but who was related to whom? She wanted to let go of her suspicious thoughts and just make simple friendships. She made a mental note to speak with the pastor to schedule times to research the church’s voluminous history. The choir director took his position, then raised his arms.
The choir broke into song with beautiful voices, robust and joyful. The hymn was “For the Beauty of the Earth” by John Rutter, and it wasn’t just heard, it was felt. She touched Klaare’s hand. It was a moment to be shared.
When the choir ended the hymn, the congregation bowed their heads in prayer. All but Klaare—who continued to look around for a minute before she closed her eyes and bowed her head. Only she knew if she prayed or even knew what was going on, but she went through the motions just the same.
Pastor Kirk, a tall, lean man of about sixty, took his place at the podium. His white short- cropped hair framed a handsome face. Square of jaw, with broad shoulders and straight posture speaking about his nature as a marine, he had the look of someone people would follow into battle. His words flowed loud and clear so even the elderly far back in the pews caught every word. Confidence and enthusiasm made his words musical. He read Psalm 145:1–6, a psalm of praise by David. Following the reading, he greeted the congregation and welcomed all new visitors, his gaze landing on every unfamiliar face, for he knew every one of his flock. Klaare smiled when he looked at her. He made all the visitors feel special.
The choir sang another hymn, “Revive Us Again,” followed by the Invocation. When Pastor Kirk asked if there were any praises, hands went up. One by one people offered praise to the Lord for answered prayers. Thanks were given for Uncle Charlie’s gout easing up, Ms. Alice’s healing broken hip, the easing of Brother Tom’s financial troubles, and on and on. When the congregation finished, the pastor turned to the choir and announced the next hymn, “The Comforter Has Come.” Klaare seemed swept away, and Julie couldn’t have been happier.
Pastor Kirk asked for prayer requests, and just like with the praises, raised hands were called on one by one. When he asked if anyone else had a prayer request, Klaare’s hand went up. Julie was shocked. What on earth would Klaare request a prayer for? The pastor smiled and pointed at Klaare.
“Yes, what is your request? You’re new to us, but you are welcome and we will pray for you.”
Without hesitation Klaare spoke. “I would like everyone to pray for Julie’s husband, Dan Winslow. He is a very sick man. He has a severe cough, and it does not come from a cold. He seems to be getting worse.”
Julie couldn’t believe Klaare had the courage to speak like this in a group of strangers. Her eyes teared up. Julie had given thought to making a request but held back. Oh Klaare, she thought, you are a beautiful person, inside and out. Julie squeezed Klaare’s hand as a tear rolled down her cheek. The pastor sensed the emotion of the moment, and as he petitioned the Lord on behalf of all the prayers requested, he fervently asked for healing for Dan Winslow. In a moment, Julie knew she had been right to choose this church and hoped Klaare had found God.
Julie’s decision was again confirmed as the pastor gave his sermon. His intent for the next several weeks was to review elements of the foreshadowing of Christ in the Old Testament starting in Genesis. He read passages of Scripture followed by insightful analysis leading up to the birth of Christ and current-day relevance. His words flowed quickly, concisely, and without personal judgment on the ways of man. He offered the Word of God and the Way of God in such a humble way, Julie could detect not an ounce of ego in his voice. The pastor’s looks were not meek or humble, but when he spoke, humility filled the church. He finished by stressing the true meaning of Christmas. He invited all to attend Christmas Eve candlelight service. This was a man of God. When the service was over, the pastor stood at the door of the church taking each person’s hand and thanking them for coming to hear the Word. Julie and Klaare knew they were not in a group of strangers.
Harry McDonath walked with Julie and Klaare across the little bridge to the parking lot. “I’m so sorry to hear Dan’s not well.”
“We would appreciate your payers.”
“Well, did you enjoy our little chapel in the woods?”
“Yes, it feels like home.”
“Klaare?”
“I did enjoy the service . . . I hope I didn’t speak out—”
“You did fine, Klaare. Don’t think any more about it.”
“You know, Julie . . .” Harry paused, seemingly gathering his thoughts. “This town has a history—a lot of what is going on now started a long time ago. We’re clannish and insular. People around here don’t forget or move on. It’s kind of hard for you to understand people’s interactions and doings.”
“Honestly, I am having a tough time adjusting. This area is so beautiful, it is hard to imagine why people act the way they do, how they can be so ugly.”
“It’s all in the Bible,” Klaare murmured.
“What is, Klaare?” Harry raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, I gave Klaare a Bible and told her to start reading it before we came to church.” Julie gave Klaare a motherly look.
Harry offered Klaare a pleased smile. “Well, Klaare, I agree, I think every type of interaction known to man is in the Bible. It is mankind’s service manual. It’s the message Pastor is trying to get across.”
“No—” Klaare words were cut off by Harry, but being a little hard of hearing, he hadn’t noticed Klaare’s attempt to interject.
“I’m quitting real estate.”
“I hope it doesn’t have anything to do with us.”
“No, this old man has just seen enough, and I’m tired. It’s not the same anymore with all these newfangled gadgets and computer search engines. I have no interest in learning them. People can bother you any time of the day or night. They want you to respond yesterday, or they dump you. It’s time. It was a good run, but times have changed.”
“You’ll love being retired. it’ll be good for you to just relax. Oh, I almost forgot. When we were going through all the trash the Goldmeadows left behind, I found four old letters. They were from Jim McKenzie to Louise. I intended to turn them over to you to give to John McKenzie, but now, well . . .”
“Oh, how nice, Julie. I am in touch with John’s children. I can see to it they get them.”
“Thank you. I can bring them next Sunday or drop them off at the real estate office.” They all stopped at Julie’s car. “Well, I hope you enjoy retirement.”
“I’ve worked twenty years longer than most folks. I’ll tell you a secret if you promise not to tell anyone.”
“Trust me. I have no one to tell. Klaare, you promise too.” Klaare gave a positive nod.
“I have a friend at the state capitol. The university is going to have a huge student housing expansion. They don’t want word getting out just yet because of an investigation into bribery and kickbacks. Julie, you take care of yourself. If I can be of any help, let me know. Maybe in a few days we can talk a little more. Let’s see how things unfold. I’m not one to push an issue. Let it come about naturally, I always say. A few skunks might expire without the benefit of releasing their revenge.”
“Sure, you take care. It’s our little secret. Come on, Klaare. We’ll see you next Sunday then.”
Julie and Klaare got into the car and soon pulled out of the church parking lot. Julie’s thoughts were on the secret Harry had just shared with her.
Klaare clasped her Bible with both hands.
“Mr. McDonath seems like a nice man. It is a shame he lost an arm. It must be very painful to be shot.”
“What . . . what did you say, Klaare? Did you say shot?”
“Yes.”
“Who told you he was shot? Dan and I wondered how he lost his arm. Are you sure?”
“It says so in the Bible.”
“What . . . in the Bible, it says Mr. McDonath was shot? Klaare . . .”
“I tried to tell both of you, it is all in the Bible.”
“The Bible I gave you?”
“Yes, there is a lot written in it. I will show you when we get home.”