THE PASTOR'S ARTICLE

The following article is pulled from the monthly Trinity Times newsletter. Trinity's pastors alternate months.

The Natwick Epistle: The Tablecloth

I love stories and the Christmas Season is a time to tell stories. Here’s a true story by apastor by the name of Rob Reid that I heard not so long ago. I’d like to pass it along to you:

A brand-new pastor and his wife were assigned, as his first call, to re-open a church in suburban Brooklyn. They arrived in early October, excited about the opportunities,
but when they saw the church they found it very run down and in need of much work. The two of them set a goal to have everything done in the building in time to have the first worship service on Christmas Eve. The two of them worked hard, repairing pews, plastering walls, painting, cleaning, and on December 81 were ahead of schedule and just about finished.

On December 19, a driving rainstorm hit the Brooklyn area and lasted for over two days. On the 21st of December, the pastor went over to the church and felt his heart sink. The roof had leaked, causing a large area of plaster, about 8’ x 20’, to fall off the wall in the front of
the sanctuary just behind the pulpit, beginning at about head high. The pastor cleaned up the sodden mess on the floor and, not knowing what else to do, made plans to postpone the Christmas Eve service and headed home.

Driving home, he noticed that a local business was having a flea market sale for charity, so he stopped in. One of the items on sale was a beautiful, handmade, ivory-colored, crocheted tablecloth with exquisite work. It had fine colors and a Cross embroidered right in the center. The tablecloth was just the right size to cover up the hole in the front wall of the church. He bought it and headed back to church.

By this time, it had stared 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 inside the warm church for the next bus, due in about 45 minutes. She sat in a pew and paid no attention to
the pastor while he got out a ladder, tools, and supplies needed to hang the tablecloth as a beautiful wall tapestry. The pastor could hardly believe how beautiful it looked and it covered up the entire problem area.

About then, he noticed the woman walking down the center aisle. Her face was white as 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 this woman, and she had made this tablecloth 35 years before, in Austria. The woman could hardly believe it as the pastor told her of 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 him keep it for the church. He insisted on at least being able to give her a ride to her home. She lived on
the other side of Staten Island and happened to be in Brooklyn for the day for a housecleaning job.

That Christmas Eve saw the churches first worship service in some time. It was wonderful. The church was nearly full of worshippers. The music and spirit of the evening were great. At the end of the service, the pastor and his wife greeted everyone at the door.

One older man, whom the pastor recognized from the neighborhood, continued to sit in one of the pews and stare. The pastor wondered who he wasn’t leaving. Finally, 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 the lived in Austria before the war. How could there be tablecloths so much alike?

He told the pastor how the Nazis came and how he forced his wife to flee for her safety. He was supposed to follow her, but was arrested and put in a prison. He never saw his wife or his home in the 35 years since that time.

The pastor asked him if he would allow him to take him for a little ride. The tow of them drove over to Staten Island, to the same house where the pastor had dropped off the woman just three days earlier. He helped the man climb the three flights of stairs to the woman’s apartment, knocked on the door, and saw the greatest Christmas reunion he could ever imagine.

Holiday Blessings to each of you!
Pastor Eric