The Touch

I had just left my car to walk the short distance to the food store when she saw me. Our eyes met, she smiled and I smiled back.  It was just what she needed I suppose to give her the courage to ask, "Do you have five dollars?" I was taken back a bit. "What do you need it for?" I asked. There was no awkwardness, no hesitation on her part. "I need cigarettes. I'm addicted to them." And after the slightest pause she added, "I'm just being honest." I looked at her wistfully, regretfully. I might have shaken my head just slightly as if to say, "Food, maybe yes. Cigarettes? No, don't think so." And I turned towards the shopping cart rack.

"Give her the five dollars." It wasn't audible, but I heard it nonetheless. "Give her the money and tell her about me." I turned back, opening my wallet as I walked towards her, thumbing through until I found a five. "I want you to know that Jesus Christ is the center of my life," I told her as I handed her the bill. And then I asked her name and if I might pray for her." She nodded. "That would be nice." I laid my hand on her arm, and calling her by name, had a conversation with God. I don't remember all I said, but looking back, I don't think that was the most important part of this story anyways.

The encounter lasted no more than five minutes. I will probably never know what impression, if any, those few moments made. That she didn't have five dollars for cigarettes suggests there were probably more serious issues in her life. But as I finished praying, she suddenly reached out and hugged me. "Thank you," she said. "It felt good to be touched again."

I don't like cigarettes. I don't smoke, never have. At first I didn't say anything, I didn't have to. My face and body language said it all. But then I heard that Voice, putting me in check, asking me to set my personal bias aside. And because I listened, I believe her greater need was met.

By the way, this encounter happened early this past spring, the pandemic's influence lessening, but still holding some sway over our daily lives. Signs strongly encouraging mask wearing and social distancing still hung on store windows and doors. The past year had meant loneliness and isolation for many. Perhaps this woman had experienced much of the same.

I still don't know her story and most likely never will. But for those few moments, I hope she sensed it wasn't just my touch upon her arm that day. 

Larry's Ties

Larry wearing his favorite football tie
 

Larry loves his ties.  Except for our time in Honduras, he rarely stood in the pulpit without one.  With 40 plus years in ministry, he's accumulated quite an assortment, taking up a good section of his clothes closet.  

Just some of the ties hanging in Larry's closet

But with that, he's also given a fair share away.  During his final Father's Day Service as pastor, he presented to each man and boy in attendance a tie out of his collection.  He had spent the day before sorting through and pulling out 30 or 40 of varied colors and designs before passing them out the following morning.  One summer during kids' camp, he put a tie around the neck of each boy for dress-up night.  I happened to be there that evening and saw a row of boys, proudly sporting their neckwear, parading into the dining hall to the applause of the girls and and their counselors.   

Even in retirement he continues to wear his favorite accessory.  Last year when the churches were shut down, he dressed up each Sunday morning with a button-down shirt and matching tie before accompanying me, a member of the worship team, to an empty sanctuary for the livestream. Just for fun, I started posting pics of him and his selection of the week on social media and people have been "following" his ties ever since.  

Larry wore this "bug" tie the first week of shutdown. 
 It seemed appropriate 

We love thrift shops though we probably spend more time looking than we do buying.  Lately, however,  Larry has started searching out, well, you know what.  There's a place over on Memorial Highway that has theirs for a buck. You just have to work your way through a couple of big boxes filled with other random stuff to find them, but he doesn't mind.  It's the thrill of the hunt I guess.  

 

His latest find from the Good Will Store

Speaking of hunts, a surprise package arrived some months back from our friend Deb in New York.  There were some treats for Rudy the dog, a couple things for me, and for Larry, a bundle of  ties that fit perfectly with his likes and personality.  She enjoys searching out the hidden treasures of a thrift store as much as we do, but when I asked where she managed to find the one he picked out as his favorite, she responded with one word.  Amazon.  

Larry's favorite from friend Deb

I suppose most of us collect something or other. I have a collection of snowmen, but they stay stored in our attic most of the year. But Larry enjoys sharing his tie collection all year long, sporting a different one each week. And as you can see, the children and other friends and family are great about joining him from Sunday to Sunday as we take the shot. It makes for memories and fun.  

  

Seeing friend Mac for the
first time in 14 years.
       This was a happy moment to share!     

 

Kids from church joining Larry for a picture

Autumn getting in on the fun

Babies too! 

Granddaughters are always nice 

Last week a small package came to our mailbox addressed to Larry. Imagine his delight when he opened the mailer to find several ties in nice condition of various designs tucked inside. His sister Paulette operates a community clothes closet and decided to surprise him.  It was like Christmas in July.                        

This butterfly tie belonged to
our friend Billy Headley
 who is now with Jesus

I recently heard someone make the comment, "Who wears those things anymore?" Well, I know one guy who does.  Recently he had the privilege of wearing two that had belonged to some special friends, now deceased, given to him by their widows.  He was honored to do so.  

This one belonged to Jimmy Stanfield
who is also with Jesus. 
 His granddaughter is standing next to Larry. 

The Day We Saw the Moon (A Memory)

Mom never missed a space launch

                                                   

My mom loved a good space launch, and I don't think she ever missed a one.  It was an exciting time during the 60's, with NASA moving full throttle towards the ultimate goal, to put a man on the moon.  I still see her in our living room, seated on the edge of the couch, leaning forward, eyes glued to that little black and white screen. From the countdown to the firing of the boosters and then the liftoff, her focus was on one thing only: that ship and those manning it.   

It was July 20, 1969.  We were traveling back home to New York after a few days of vacationing in Ohio. Still a good 30 minutes or so from home, my dad pulled the car into my Aunt Mary's and Uncle Glade's driveway, all seven of us hurriedly piling out, and plopping down in front of their television set just in time to see Neil Armstrong descend that ladder and plant his feet on the moon. The picture from outer space was more grainy than clear, nothing like this had ever been broadcast before. It was the moon after all. But over 600 million people around the world were watching, the largest television audience up to that time. It was one of the most significant moments of the 20th century, and still to this day I am grateful that my parents made sure we didn't miss it. 

This morning, fifty-two years to the day later, history was made once again. A crew of four civilians were  launched into space, initiating a space program for tourists. Mom would have loved it, sitting on the edge of her seat, watching the launch all these decades later in high definition. As for me, I thought it would be cool to see a bit of history. But mostly, it was just another way to remember her.