TheTablecloth

The brand new pastor and his wife, newly assigned to their first
Ministry, to re-open a church in suburban Brooklyn, arrived in early
October 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 sank
when he saw that the roof had leaked, causing a large area of plaster
about 20 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, crocheted tablecloth 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 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 prison. He never saw his wife or his home again 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.