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Pink Flamingoed Page 8
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Page 8
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The telephone rang just as the Forrester family was finishing a big Christmas morning breakfast.
“Hello,” Mr. Forrester said.
“Is there a Mr. Holmes there?” asked the voice on the other end of the line.
“Well, yes, I believe there is,” Brad’s dad said. “Is this Dr. Watson?”
“So, he’s already told you?” Amy asked.
“Yes, Amy, he’s told us all about you. By the way, I’m Bill, Brad’s dad. He’ll be delighted that you called. Just a second and I’ll get him for you.”
Bill Forrester put down the phone and stepped into the dining room, with a quizzical look on his face.
“Brad, did you have some medical tests done?”
“No, why?” his son asked, wondering what his dad was talking about.
“Well, I was wondering because there’s a Dr. Watson on the phone to speak to you.”
Everyone laughed as Brad sprang from his chair and almost knocked it over in his haste to get to the phone.
“Merry Christmas, Dr. Watson!”
“And a Merry Christmas to you, Mr. Holmes. I love you!”
“And I love you, too.”
“Did you tell your mom about us?”
“No, but I told my sisters and swore them to secrecy. As it turns out, my youngest sister met someone, too.”
“Does that mean you’re off the hook, and we don’t have to see each other any more?”
“Bite your tongue. Just wait until I get home, Mr. Holmes.”
Brad laughed.
“I’ll be sitting on your porch waiting for you.”
After a few minutes of catching up, Brad hung up and returned to the smiling faces that surrounded the dining room table. Each face looked at him. He would have a good time sharing more about Amy with his family, and he knew each of them would be happy for him.
Amy, on the other hand, lowered the phone into its cradle, careful to be as quiet as possible. Hopefully, her mother did not miss her and would not question her on what she had been doing. She would tell her mother about Brad, but in time. She contemplated telling her mother after she got back from the honeymoon, if there was to be a honeymoon. No, if things progressed with Brad, Amy would tell her mother before that, but from a safe distance, by phone. That is unless Amy’s mother sprang from the dark ages and got an e-mail address.
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Jill lay in her bed, unable to go to sleep. Christmas Day. It had been exciting for her. She had received two more of Brad’s whodunits. Her parents bought her new clothes. But none of that was what kept Jill awake long into the night Christmas night. What kept her awake was how her family spent the rest of their day, after they left the house.
Jill thought of the countless homeless people she had fed that day; their tattered clothes, their unkempt appearance, the fact that none of them looked her in the eye. Before Jill’s dad insisted that they serve the homeless on Christmas Day, Jill thought of homeless people as drunken old men who did nothing to improve their condition. Jill had no idea that there were homeless women, as well as men. And today, for the first time, Jill had served a homeless boy who looked to be around her age. Jill had tried not to stare, but sometimes she could not help it. She noticed how some of the homeless reacted to their Christmas presents. All they received were a pair gloves, a pair of socks, and a knitted scarf, but most of these people were so grateful. Jill noticed that some had cried, and some had prayed. She watched how some had used a small piece of a roll to sop up the last of the gravy. They left nothing. Jill wondered how many of them questioned when their next meal would be. Her family had not discussed their mission afterwards. They had not needed to. At least, the experience had humbled her. But what about Kenny? Had he been touched? And was Mallory old enough to realize what had happened? Mallory’s awareness exceeded her age. Jill thought Mallory understood. And Kenny had not tried to tease his sisters. He even did some work. Should she, Jill, being the oldest, discuss this with her siblings? Or should she leave that to her mom and dad? And should she bring up what they had done the next time she visited with some of her neighbors? All of her neighbors were adults. Would they misunderstand and think she was bragging about what her family had done? She didn’t think so. Her neighbors were caring people.
Jill’s thoughts darted from her brother, her sister, and her neighbors, then wandered back to the homeless. How helpless and hopeless many of them looked. How much she wanted to reach out and lift them up. But would they understand? Jill lay in bed wondering why some people were homeless and she was not. It was hard, but Jill had kept a stiff upper lip the whole time she dished out another dish of food at the homeless shelter, but now she could let it out. One side of her pillow was wet. Jill closed her eyes and began to pray. She thanked God for a mom and dad who wanted to teach her how lucky she was to have enough, and wanted to teach her how important it is to serve. She thanked God for a roof over her head, clothes to wear, and enough to eat each day, things she had taken for granted for so many years. Then she prayed for all the people she had served food to that day, people whose names she did not know, people whose names were known to few people. Each of which came into the world in the same way she did, or at least in a similar manner. Yet, one day something happened. One day each of these people no longer had a home, and no longer had any self worth. And many of them did not know that they were loved by God. Then Jill felt sorry for all those people who did not serve the homeless, all those people who still thought that all there was to Christmas was getting up in the morning and opening presents. Many of these people’s happiness went away as soon as the newness of the presents wore off. And Jill prayed for those people, too, and again she thanked God that her mom and dad had taught her what being a Christian was all about, even though she did not always remember to practice it. After Jill had cried all her tears of sadness and all her tears of joy, she fell asleep. But just before she did, she thought of that homeless baby her dad had told her about early that morning, away in a manger, no crib for a bed, and how He had grown up and told her that for as much as she had done unto the least of these, she had done unto Him.
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Brad returned to Aylesford Place just before New Year’s. He unloaded his car and immediately rushed to see if Amy had returned. No one answered his knock, so Brad checked with Frank and Cora to see if Amy was back.
“Hi, Brad,” Frank said as he opened the door. “Please come in. We were just talking about you.”
“Who was that at the door?” Cora asked as she rounded the corner. “Brad! We’ve missed you!” Cora exclaimed as she ran up to give him a hug.
“I’ve missed you, too, but I was checking to see if you knew if Amy’s back yet.”
“So, Frank, he just came to see us to find out about Amy.”
“That’s not true. Okay, it’s partially true, but I was planning to come over later. Is she back yet?”
“Not yet, but she called yesterday. She asked if you were back and said she’d be back sometime this afternoon. Since Miss Wonderful, Beautiful, and Incredible isn’t back yet, do you have time to sit down for a few minutes and tell us about your Christmas?”
“She does tell you everything, doesn’t she?”
“Well, not everything, but I’m the only mom she has around here. She has to share her excitement with someone.”
“I guess I’ll forgive her. Yeah, I can stay a little bit.”
“Would you like some coffee, or hot chocolate?”
“Sure, whatever you have is fine.”
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Brad sat near the window watching for Amy to come home. He’d been sitting there over an hour when her SUV turned into the driveway. Before Amy could get out of her vehicle, Brad ran out of his house and raced across the yard.
“I’ve missed you, Mr. Holmes,” Amy said as they embraced.
“And I’ve missed you, Dr. Watson. By the way, my dad’s already in love with you. Like father, like son.”
“And I’m al
ready in love with both of you. By the way, my mom sent me home with enough leftovers to feed the whole street. Would you like to come over and help me put a dent in them tonight?”
“I don’t know. Will the whole street be there?”
“Does it matter?”
“No, but I’d rather be the entire guest list.”
“That you are.”
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As Brad and Amy relaxed in front of the fireplace, Amy thought of something she had forgotten to tell Brad.
“Guess who got a computer and cell phones for Christmas?”
“I don't know. Your parents, maybe?”
“They already had them. Well, at least my dad uses them from time to time, but I’m talking about Harry and Ethel.”
“You’re kidding?”
“No, Cora told me when I called her.”
“Harry sprang for a computer and cell phones?”
“No, their daughter Rachel gave them to them for Christmas.”
“That sounds more like it. But does Harry know about the monthly charges?”
“Rachel’s paying them, too. I think she feels guilty that she never gets to come and see her parents.”
“Boy that sounds like a good deal. Rachel sounds like a good woman to get to know. Is she married by any chance?”
“That’s none of your business,” Amy remarked as she sailed a pillow past Brad’s ear.
Not to be outdone, Brad retrieved the pillow and dove at Amy. After a little horseplay, the two of them just lay there and enjoyed the fire in the fireplace.
“I really am glad to see you again, Mr. Holmes.”
“And I’m glad to see you, most wonderful and beautiful Dr. Watson.”
“You forgot to say incredible again.”
E-Mail For The Oldies
Christmas came and Christmas went, and Aylesford Place returned to normal. Well, normal for Aylesford Place. Not only did Brad and Amy return to spark their relationship, but Melanie and her friend Michelle returned from their skiing trip with all their bones pretty much the way they were when they left. Only one thing remained to be done before it was time to get on with the new year. Amy held her breath as Brad, Scott, and Frank took down all the Christmas decorations and put them away for another year.
The old woman who lived in the darkened stone mansion at the end of the street sat alone, miserable, but no more so than she was any other time of the year. Only her weekly visitor gave her anything to look forward to, and she was too proud to change in any way that would make her life more palatable. It had been years since her husband and father had died, but to her each day was like the day after the funeral. As she sat and felt sorry for herself, the rest of the street carried on with life as usual.
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Part of getting back to normal meant getting back to church. Everyone who had been gone was excited to get back to church. Those who did not leave were glad to have the congregation intact, and look through the congregation and see men with hair on their heads, and women with a hair color other than gray, or their color of choice.
“It has come to my attention that several of you got computers for Christmas,” Pastor Scott said. “Counting those of us who already had computers, that means that most of us probably have e-mail addresses.”
Harry looked at Ethel and smiled, happy that he was one of the “most of us.”
“I plan to send out a weekly e-mail. I’ll pass around a piece of paper. If you’d like to be included on the church e-mail list, please put your name and e-mail address on that paper.”
Up until then, Harry had received e-mail only from Rachel. When Rachel told her parents what she had gotten them for Christmas, Harry had no idea he would enjoy their presents as much as he did. Ethel, on the other hand, wished Rachel had given them two computers, so she could spend time on the computer, too.
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Harry hurried to his computer to check his e-mail. He had received one message from Rachel, plus one from Cora titled Ten Ways To Tell If You’re Getting Old. Harry opened Cora’s e-mail first.
“You know you’re getting old if you wake up in the morning and can’t remember where you put your teeth when you went to bed.”
Harry laughed. He still had all of his teeth, thanks to his dentist.
“You know you’re getting old when it takes you three times to get out of your chair, and by then you’ve forgotten why you wanted to get up.”
Harry did not laugh as hard this time, because he could identify with the second way of knowing he was getting old. However, he continued to read.
“You know you’re getting old when you have to use a magnifying glass to find your glasses.
“You know you’re getting old when you look in the attic and find your old high school yearbook and it was written on parchment.”
The list grew sillier with each new remark. Harry finished reading the list. When Harry got to the last one, he knew Cora had added to the list.
“You know you’re getting old when your name is Harry and your neighbors call you a tightwad.”
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Early one January morning Scott Armbruster sat in his home study when someone knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
Scott looked up and saw Kenny, his ten-year-old son, standing before him.
“Oh, hi, Son. What can I do for you?”
“It snowed last night, Dad.”
Scott had noticed the first deep snowfall of the year when he opened his door that morning to get the newspaper.
“Well, thanks for the weather update, but I suspect that was not the only reason you came to see me.”
“Well, it is and it isn’t. Dad, I’ve been thinking about something.”
“And what is that, Son?” Scott asked.
He had already put down his work when his son entered the room and was doing his best to be a concerned listener.
“Well, Dad, I’ve been thinking that I need to make some money.”
“And how do you propose to do that?”
“Well, Dad, It snowed a lot last night and there are a lot of older people on this street and most of them have more money than they know what to do with. Are you following me so far, Dad?”
“Actually, I think I’m ahead of you. So, you want to go out and call on our neighbors and make some money shoveling snow. Am I correct?”
“Yeah, unless you’d rather make a significant increase in my allowance.”
“My dad always said shoveling snow was good for a boy. He said it helped a boy develop character.”
“And muscles, too.”
“Well, yes, if he does enough of it. There’s just one problem with your proposition, Son. I’m the pastor, and because I’m the pastor and you’re the pastor’s son, some of these people may feel obligated to let you shovel their snow. How much do you plan to charge anyway?”
“How does twenty dollars sound?”
“I thought you were planning to shovel snow, not build them a house.”
“So, you think that’s a little steep, huh, Dad?”
“Let’s just say I have a different idea. Maybe you can go through the neighborhood and ask people if they’d like to have their snow shoveled, and if they do, they’ll ask you how much you’d charge.”
“Sounds like my plan, so far, Dad.”
“Yes, but here’s where our plans begin to travel different directions. When they ask you what you’d charge, you can tell them whatever they’re willing to pay. How’s that sound?”
“Well, actually, I like my direction better. But what if I can’t get any takers?”
“Well, then you just come home and I’ll let you shovel our walk and the church’s walk. How’s that?”
“I don’t know. Just what do you mean by ‘let’ me? Does that mean I get paid or just do it for the experience and to build up my muscles?”
“How about if I pay you to do our walk and the church’s walk would be your gift to God?”
“How about if you pay me for both
and I give God ten percent of what you pay me to do the church?”
“You know, doing both of them for the experience isn’t such a bad idea after all. You could always use a little more character.”
“I think I’m enough of a character, already. Let’s say, you pay me well for our walk and I’ll do the church’s to get on God’s good side.”
Scott shook his head and laughed.
“Get out of here and remember to do a good job wherever you go. Our family name’s at stake.”
Kenny tore out of his dad’s study, hurried to the garage to get the snow shovel, and hastened to the Henderson’s. It never dawned on him that the snow which was so deep that he was having trouble walking through it would be the same snow he planned to shovel. His excited demeanor came to abrupt halt with the first shovelful. But first there were customers to get.
“Hi, Mrs. Henderson.”
“Hi, Kenny. From the looks of your shovel I’d say you’re trying to earn some money shoveling snow. How much do you charge?”
“Uh...whatever people are willing to pay. Would you like for me to shovel your walk?”
“Sure, Kenny. That will save Mr. Henderson from having to do it.”
Not used to doing manual labor, Kenny struggled as he shoveled the heavy snow, but eventually he finished and returned to the Henderson’s front door to collect his money.
“Well, I’m finished, Mrs. Henderson.”
“Just a second, Kenny, while I go and get some money.”
Cora Henderson returned with a ten dollar bill and handed it to Kenny. “Is this okay?”
“Sure. Gee, thanks, Mrs. Henderson,” Kenny said, excited that he had made some money and forgetting for a moment that it was only one half of the twenty dollars he planned to charge.
Brad had gotten up early and had already shoveled his walk and Amy’s walk, so Kenny missed out on the next two houses. Kenny figured that both of them would have paid him well. That meant Kenny’s next try would be at the Conklin’s. Too bad for Kenny that Harry was taking a computer break and answered the door.