THE TABLECLOTH

The brand new pastor and his wife were newly assigned to their first
ministry, which was to reopen a church in urban Brooklyn.
Arriving in early October, and 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 sunk when he
saw that the roof had leaked, causing a large area of plaster about 6
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, crochet table cloth 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 was 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 center 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 concentration camp. He never saw his wife or his home again for
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.

True Story ~submitted by Pastor Rob Reid

~Also a thank you  to Janice A. Crowe for sending it in.