Today’s Free Train Coffee…

I know… I know… It’s like an obsession with me, this free coffee thing on the train. It’s not that I’m cheap, but it’s the challenge. Can I get a free cup of coffee out of the cafe car attendant from a decades old promotion, that involved buying a souvenir Amtrak mug, that promised endless coffee ‘til mug do us part?

So, today I was awake early. I had things to read and write so I headed past my sleeping fellow travelers for coffee, without the mug, just to check on who’s selling the coffee on this train. It was Marshal. He seemed friendly enough and one who would honor the coffee deal. So why not give it a shot.

So give it a shot I did. I went back and this time ordered my yogurt and coffee and greeted Marshal with my mug. After some friendly banter he proclaimed, “That will be two-dollars.” 

“Ah,” I thought. “Success!”

“No, wait,” he said. “I forgot the yogurt. That’ll be four-fifty.”

Bah! In an instant, success turned into failure, free turned into two-dollars.

So there you go… It’s not that I’m cheap… it’s the challenge. 

An Angel Story

IMG_1922Tomorrow is Christmas so I thought I’d post one of my stories written long ago and published in the “Christian Home and School” magazine.  It’s a bit long, but it’s one of my favorites.

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The predicted snow plastered the windows of Maddy Clark’s classroom drawing the students attention away from the inexperienced but earnest first year language arts teacher.  She tried to coax from her seventh graders a meaningful wrap-up to a writing unit on ‘heroes.’  Little did she know that she was fighting an uphill battle that day since it was the last class period of the last day before Christmas vacation.  The students were expecting fun but Maddy expected meaningful discussion.

“You’ll be my hero, Miss Clark, if we can have a party…” said Mark from his seat by the frosty windows.

“Yeh, Mr. DeWit gave us presents,” chirped in Ashley from the seat behind Mark.

“Just a candy cane,” said Mark with a grumble.

Like the storm cranking up outside, Maddy’s class was getting ready to burst in anticipation of the coming holiday break.  The next forty minutes would crumble into chaos if she didn’t take charge soon.

“Now, class…” She raised the volume a little bit.  “We’ve been talking about heroes…”

Ashley piped in, “I’m cold.”

“You’ll be fine.  Now about those heroes -,” said Maddy desperately trying to stick with the lesson plan.

“The wind is coming right in.  The curtains are moving!”  Maddy glanced at Ashley and then at Mark sitting in the seat in front of her, not so slyly moving the curtains with his ruler.

“Woooo …. wooooosh….”

Ashley giggled.

“Mark!  Stop!”  She clenched her jaw and proceeded in her strongest teacher voice.  “Describe for me some of the qualities of a he- ,”

She stopped.  Only a handful of her students were actually paying attention to her.  Most were absorbed in their own discussions.  Desperation quickly rose from deep within her.  She shouted, “I CAN GIVE DETENTIONS ON THE DAY BEFORE VACATION, … okay. ”  She regretted the tacked on ‘okay.’  She also regretted the fact that the door was open and her frustration overflowed into the hall.  Embarrassed, she calmly walked over to the door, closed it and turned to face the class.  A hand was in the air.

“Ashley?” she said.

“What’s that thing on your desk?”

“What thing?”

“That funny looking metal thing.”

“Nativity scene.”

“What’s that stuff  stickin’ out of the top?”  Ashley pointed to a group of metal wires poking up from the back of the metal stable.  Shiny, thin metal figures hung from each one.

“A heavenly host,” Maddy replied.

“Huh?” said a puzzled Ashley.

“Angels.” Maddy gave her an unprofessional roll of the eyes.

“Oh,” said Ashley.  “Mr. De Wit has angels hanging from his lights.”

“That’s nice,” Maddy said, tired of hearing about De Wit’s Christmas fun.

“Where d’ ja get it?”

“From a friend.”  Her curt answers indicated that no matter what, she was going to get back to ‘heroes.’

Ashley pressed on.  “When d’ ja get it?”

“When I was a kid.”

“You were a kid?” Mark said.  He looked around the room pleased to do his part in distracting the determined teacher.

“Yes, a long time ago –  I was about your age.”

“Do you believe in angels, Miss Clark?”  Ashley said.

“What’s with you and angels, anyway, Ashley?”  said Mark.

Ashley rolled her eyes at Mark.  “Well, like my neighbor…”  The last syllable floated off to the ceiling while Ashley collected her thoughts and said, “My neighbor’s cousin lives in some city like Chicago and like, her mother was visiting a friend in Iowa and this friend’s old college roommate stopped and picked up a hitchhiker – I don’t know why.  She just did.  And after they rode down the road for awhile, well, then they got a flat tire and were stopped by the side of the road.  And some mean looking guy stopped too, and walked up to the car.  He looked at the girl driving and then he looked in the back seat, you know, at the hitchhiker, and got this scared look on his face…”  She paused to take a breath.  “He, like turned around and almost ran back to his car.  The girl driver got real scared too.  She looked back at the hitchhiker and …” Ashley whispered, “He was gone!”

“Gone?” asked Mark, eyes open wide.

“That’s what she said.  I think it was an angel, don’t you, Miss Clark?  Do you believe in angels?”  For the first time that class period, it was quiet.  Ashley’s angel story had done what Maddy’s heroes had failed to do, bring order from chaos, which lasted for about eight seconds when twelve hands shot in the air and ten other students leaped in with their own versions of ‘angel mysteries.’

“My mom said – “

”There was this guy-“

”I was babysitting one night -“

”My minister said – “

”On TV once, I saw -“

Everyone wanted to get into the discussion.  Everyone had a story to tell, not about heroes, but angels.  The voices swelled up and crashed over her like a wave – and Maddy gave in.  She gave up her plan and dove in with a story of her own.  It was a story from her childhood that was, in some ways, like today’s class – in chaos.

Maddy recalled a foggy December night long ago when she and her family were introduced to the story of the Messiah, sent to bring shalom, peace to a chaotic creation.  Like Ashley’s angel story, it stilled a storm.  So, completely unplanned and deliciously spontaneous, Maddy told the class how God used a special person to deliver a message of peace to Maddy’s desperate family.

With sudden drama she exclaimed, “There I was…”  Her  hands floated in front of her as if trying to calm the storm of stories coming from the class as she began. She spoke softly as she began to tell her angel story.   “I was upstairs in my bedroom when I heard the bad news.”  Bad news grabbed the attention of some of the students.

“I shared a bedroom with my little sister, Katie, and what we liked to do instead of going to bed was spy on our parents!”  Maddy’s eyebrows arched upward.

“How d’ ja do that?”  Mark said.

“We’d  perch over the heat register in my bedroom which was right over the kitchen in the back of the house.  We could hear everything that was going on.  The sound came out of the register like an intercom.”  She nodded her head in the direction of the box hanging on the wall.  “It was great fun if we didn’t get caught.  Once, I dropped a marble down the register.  KABONG!  My mom yelled, ‘Madeleine Anne and Katie! You’re s’pose to be sleeping.’  Oops….”  Maddy grinned.  “We could hear everything.”

Mark said, “Your name is Madeleine?”

Maddy winked.  “I was about your age and I needed to know everything of course,”  She looked sideways at Mark.  “but I didn’t want to hear any talk about dying.”

“Someone was dying?  That was the bad news?”  Ashley said.

Maddy nodded.  “There was a whole lot of talk about death and dying…”  She wait a few seconds and bit her bottom lip.  “… and crying and arguing going on around the kitchen table.”  Everyone was listening now as Maddy Clark cracked open her life’s door and allowed her students to take a peek.

“Who died, Miss Clark?” said Mark.

“You see, my little sister, Katie, was sick – really sick.  Some kind of virus they said.  They took her to the hospital and everything.  She was supposed to get better in the hospital.  Right?”  Ashley nodded.   

“I was so sorry I eavesdropped.  I didn’t want to know the things they were crying and yelling about.  The longer my sister was in the hospital the worse things got.  I didn’t need to listen at the register.  I heard the fights through the pillow I held over my head.”

Her chin quivered, suggesting that even though she had regained control of her class, she was about to lose control herself.  She remembered that the longer Katie was in the hospital the greater the turmoil in her home became.  Those were bad times.

“So, who was it,  Miss Clark, the one who … died?  Your little sister?”  Mark asked again.  Maddy looked deeply into Mark’s eyes.

“Stop interrupting!”  Ashley said.  Her disapproving bark melted into sympathy when she turned to her teacher and said, “Go ahead, Miss Clark.”

Maddy slipped into a smile and said, “Thanks, Ashley.”  She continued.  “We had this neighbor.  She lived in the house behind ours.  Her backyard and our backyard were adjacent.”  She waited for Mark’s inevitable question about the meaning of the word ‘adjacent.’  It didn’t come.  “She was really – .”

“Weird?” said Mark.

“Uh,  interesting, or maybe quirky would be a better word,” Maddy said.  “She was very creative, an artist, I guess.  She made sculptures – mostly out of metal.  She could weld things!  She made this nativity scene.”  Maddy held it up.

“Well, this neighbor, Alice, had some form of cancer and was going through something called chemotherapy, to help her get better.”

Ashley’s hand shot up, then she said, “My mom’s friend’s sister had chemotherapy and she got really sick from it.”

“That’s too bad,” said Maddy.

“And, she lost all her hair!” said Ashley.

“About that time Alice lost her’s too.  But we got used to it that way, because she was at our house all the time.  She was a good friend.”

“Okay!  Okay!  What about the angel?  You know – the angel?”  Mark spit out the questions.

“Ah, yes…”  Maddy rubbed her chin and gazed out over the class, “the angel… a messenger from God…”

“One night I was in my room – alone of course.  Katie had been in the hospital for a few weeks.  She couldn’t breath.  She was hooked up to all kinds of machines and tubes.  She wasn’t doing very well.”  Maddy cleared her throat.  “It was just my mom and me at home.”

Maddy’s voice took on a ominous tone.  “It was a foggy, misty, dreary night and I was looking out of my window down into the backyard.  Suddenly, the backyard light popped on.  Something was out there.  I couldn’t tell what.  The halo of  light barely penetrated the dense fog.”  Slowly, deliberately, almost whispering, Maddy went on.  “A figure emerged … from the trees… out of the darkness … I couldn’t see much, but as it gradually penetrated the small circle of light I saw a… a… white robe shimmering in the light …  and then a halo… and then the wings…”  Her voice trailed off.

Ashley shivered, then scrunched around in her seat and settled forward, chin propped up by her hands resting on her desk.  “The angel…,” she whispered to Mark.

“Shhhhh… ,” he hissed back.

“This – whatever it was-  headed right for our backdoor… I heard a knock….”

“D’ja listen at the register?” Mark asked.

Maddy nodded and then looked around at the class.  “The stress of Katie being in the hospital was getting to all of us and now this.  I heard my mom say, ‘Oh, my…!’ and then nothing.  It was just me and my mom, you know – all alone, at night.”  Intensity grew in her voice.  “I crept out of my room, tiptoed down the hall and down the stairs.  I was sooo scared!

“The bright kitchen lights blinded me when I peeked  into the room.  I thought I saw my mom crying.  I inched farther out into the room for a better look and I saw my mom crying… and laughing… and hugging a bald headed angel…. Alice!”

“Your neighbor was an angel?”  Mark said.

“Shhhhhhh…,” Ashley said.

“Alice saw me and in her kind way said, ‘Shalom.’  And then in typical bubbly Alice-style she told us all about making angel costumes for her church’s Christmas pageant and thought she’d try one on … and on and on she talked…” Maddy took a breath, “and then Alice said, ‘I thought of you.’  Maddy reached over to her desk and picked up the metal nativity scene.  She held it out to the class.  “‘I have a gift for you.  Let me tell you about it.’ That’s what Alice said to me and my mom.  So the three of us, me, my mom and an ‘angel’ sat around table laughing, crying, talking and praying as Alice told us the story behind the figures in the nativity scene.”

“That night changed my life,” said Maddy just as the bell for the beginning of Christmas vacation sounded.  She had to stop now, but she knew she’d somehow continue telling the story of Christmas through the things she did with her students.

As the students surged past Maddy standing by the doorway, Mark and Ashley hung back.

“Miss Clark?”

“Yes, Mark.”

“Whatever happened to… Katie… your sister?”

Maddy’s face lit up.  “Ask her yourself.”  Maddy grabbed the hand of a young woman standing in the hall, waiting to go Christmas shopping with her sister.

“Mark and Ashley, I’d like you to meet my little sister, Katie.

“You’re alive!” Ashley blurted.

Katie laughed, “Yes, I am.”  She looked at Maddy.  “You told them about Alice, eh?”

“Yep,” she said.  “A little angel story is just what we needed to make it through the day.”  Maddy grinned as Mark and Ashley wished the Clark sisters Merry Christmas and rushed off to catch their bus.

Coffee

Ahhhhh…. That was good coffee! Train coffee! Free coffee! Yes, friends, the train travel free-coffee-challenge took place this morning somewhere on the tracks in Pennsylvania.

Many, years ago I bought a souvenir Amtrak coffee mug. It wasn’t cheap, but the promise was free coffee, any train, as long as Amtrak is riding the rails. Since then my personal quest has been to get that free cup o’ coffee no matter who the cafe car attendant is. Today it was Robert and here’s how the whole encounter went down.

I walked up to the counter. Smiling, Robert said, “Can I help you?”

Smiling back I said, I’d like a yogurt (Always buy something to go with the free coffee.) and a cup of coffee. I slid my mug across the counter. “Have you ever seen one of these before?” I thought I’d try the indirect ‘small-talk’ approach.

“No, never saw one of those before,” Robert said. Then with a chuckle he said, “Those go way back before my time. Never even saw one in a display.” Grin. Grin.

“Yep,” I said, “This goes way back. It could probably be a museum piece.” I gave a little guffaw. 

Robert smiled, filled the cup, slid it back over the counter and said, “that’ll be $2.50… For the yogurt.” 

“Thanks,” I said, and lurched back to my seat, carrying my yogurt and coffee. Ahhh…. Good, free, train coffee.  Heh, heh…

Thanksgiving

Once again I’m sitting on the train. We’re zipping through soggy Ohio on our way to a family Thanksgiving holiday in New York. I can’t wait. We already know what the main part of the menu will be – turkey. Pretty traditional, pretty tasty.

Once upon a time, at school I taught in a long time ago, we had a Thanksgiving tradition. On the Wednesday afternoon before Thanksgiving Thursday, after we sent the students home for the holiday, we went someplace for lunch together. The entire staff, there were about five of us, drove to a nearby pizza joint. It became our annual Thanksgiving tradition… Italian style. 

The details were a bit sketchy, but we figured that sometime, someplace, Italian pilgrim, Giovanni Something or other, and his band landed in Massachusetts. After sailing great distances in ships built by the great grand descendants of Enzo Ferrari, they landed near Plymouth Rock. So thankful to have new neighbors, the traditional English pilgrims brought out the pizza crust, mozzarella and pepperoni and had feast of thanksgiving to welcome their new paisanos to the New World. I may not have the story quite right but I remember sharing a tasty lunch with group of good caring people.

Yesterday, I remembered  a traditional Thanksgiving psalm, with my class, Psalm 100. Some of them remembered memorizing it when they were younger. I memorized it at some point in my life. My own kids memorized it when they were little and I’m sure that my grandchildren have or will put the words of the Psalm in their heads and hopefully their hearts. It reminds us that “… God’s love endures forever and his faithfulness continues through all generations.”

So, whether the menu today includes traditional turkey, pizza, spaghetti or whatever, it’s good to give thanks to God for, ________.    Well, you fill in the blanks.

Words…

Today we said’ “Goodbye,” to our friend, Kevin.

In the past week thousands of words have been spoken, written, read and sung — comforting words, angry words, encouraging words, gospel words, words of peace and words unable to be voiced.

I believe all of these words are gifts from the God who loves us and wants us to be comforted, to have peace.

Tonight, however, I’m ready to put the words away for awhile and ‘be still.’

It’s time for me to be still and know that whatever comes of all of this is in the hands of our loving God.  I know this because of his Words.

God himself is reminding us to  “…be still and know that I am God…” [Psalm 46:10]

Today’s gift.  Enough said.

Little Things

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Sometimes it’s the little things that people do that have a big effect.  Not a big deal to the one who does the little thing, but a big deal for the one who receives it.  A small act of kindness, at the right time, delivers just what we need. That’s how it was with a card that showed up in the teacher’s workroom today.

I don’t know the family very well.  I taught their kids at one time.  There it was on the counter, a greeting card from them, with a handwritten note … a little thing …

“…Although we didn’t know Kevin… clearly felt your immense anguish…  sincere sympathy…”

 Simple words profound meaning.  Great effect, wonderful comfort.

That’s what struck me today… Then I wondered about the  ‘little things’ I do.  Helpful? Not so helpful? Big effect, no effect, ‘eh! whatever’ effect.  God can use those little things that we do, and often unknown to us, works his purpose for his kingdom through our hands.  And, that’s no little thing.

Never Alone (2)

Tonight we got word that our friend and colleague, Kevin, died from the injuries he sustained in yesterday’s car accident.  Kevin is with Jesus.  Nothing new there…  He always was with Jesus…. because… Kevin belongs, body and soul, in life and in death to his faithful Savior…. and so do Shari and the kids… and so do we.

My hope is for the day that will come when  “…God will wipe every tear from our eyes.  There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain…”  Revelation 21:4.

That hope, for those who belong to Jesus, is today’s gift.

Never Alone

I can’t remember how it all came to be, when I first tried it.  It’s been a few years ago that I used this technique with my cross country teams.

Technique… that makes it sound like something I planned, something that I gave a lot of thought to in order to help make my runners, well, better runners… and better people.  Not so.

You see, on my middle school cross country team, it usually works out that we have some really fast runners, some really slow runners and some in the middle. When we run long distance workouts, it works out that the fast ones finish waaaay ahead of the slow ones.

One day, I must have said to the fast ones when they finished, to jog back out to the last ones and run in with them. “Nobody runs alone,” I said.  From that day on that has been my mantra for workouts like that.  The fast go back to help the last.  Nobody runs alone.

Today, at the school where I teach, we received word that a friend and former colleague was in a serious automobile accident.  As I type this, Kevin is in critical condition with severe head trauma.  Age 37, married with three little kids, Kevin is clinging to life.  The news hit us hard.  Kevin, is too young, is too needed here on earth to be called home to Jesus, just yet.  So we prayed…

Our principal, one of Kevin’s closest friends, gathered the middle schoolers in the commons so we could pray together.  He struggled.  It was hard for him to get the words out.  They came slowly and clearly, wet from his tears.  He led us in praying for healing, in praying for Kevin’s family.

And there they all sat.  Two hundred plus middle schoolers, nary a one knew who this Kevin guy was, but still praying because a handful of us who did were suffering.  When just a part of  the body suffers, the whole body suffers…

We had cross country practice again today.  It was one of those distance workouts.  The fast ones took off, zipped around the two and quarter mile course finishing waaaaay ahead of the slow ones. After about half of the team was in and after a little bit of recovery time, the first runners gradually started jogging back along the course, and I watched, amazed.  The first, the fast, picked up and jogged in with their slower teammates.  Without me saying a word, they came alongside them and helped them finish the course.

I don’t know where Kevin’s course will lead him.  I do know that many people have already come alongside Kevin’s family and friends – praying, caring, supporting, helping, encouraging, loving…  praying for peace, strength, courage and healing.  God is showing his presence through all these good people.  God is showing Kevin and his family and the rest of us that nobody runs alone… never alone… never… never alone… never…

From the Train… Sister Anne

Two days ago, the day before we got on the train to visit family, I got a request. Could I help move a friend’s kid and his family? The kid got a new job in town and needed to move his stuff – no piano, no appliances, no sleeper sofa and a truck big enough for the job. All magic words for an ex-furniture mover who is maybe getting too old for this kind of work.

And work it was on the hottest day of the summer so far. I left the house in the morning before eight and got home in the afternoon at six. In between we lifted couches and boxes and toys and stuff from the shed. I packed the truck and at the end of the day, it all fit in and got trucked to the day’s destination. We sweated a lot, laughed some and accomplished a good thing.  

It felt good to know that this old guy can still lift a box, get a dresser out of the house and pack truck. It felt good to use those gifts – jokingly, I call my spiritual gifts – to lend a hand and provide a lift. I was thanked profusely, over and over again.

Right now I’m getting to the end of my 18 hour train ride. It’s always interesting the people you encounter and now I’m wondering about Sister Anne and her handicapped charge, Sam. They got on the train sometime in the middle of the night and sat right behind us. I knew this from  listening to Sam’s load guttural complaints as he settled in.

I think (and I’m mostly guessing here) that Sister Anne was taking Sam, at least part-way, back to his group home somewhere in New York. They parted ways in Albany, but Anne, it seemed, was taking care of the details that would get Sam safely to his final destination… and I hope he made it OK.

Sister Anne? I don’t know much about her, really. I’m quite sure she hasn’t had to load a moving truck very often or coax a couch around a corner. I’m pretty sure her spiritual gifts don’t include moving furniture. What became quite evident to me, without even meeting her, was her spiritual gifts of patience, kindness, compassion, perseverance, love…

I didn’t hear Sam utter a word of thanks as we parted. I don’t know if Sister Anne felt appreciated for what she had done for him. I do believe that in Anne’s world, for this short train ride, Sam was one of those ‘least of these’ we hear about….and whether she realizes it or not, what she did for Sam today, she did for Jesus.