by Lisa Samson
I planted myself by the espresso bar after dinner had ended and the dessert table had been picked clean, except for one oddly shaped piece of French silk pie that no one wanted. I took the piece over to my father who sat in deep conversation with Harlan Hopewell. Mother and Paisley did the jitterbug together right underneath Miss Mildred’s nose as she sang “In the Mood,” and Robbie and Angus clapped in time from their seats near the back.
Charmaine emceed beautifully, of course. Sunny’s table arrangements of larkspur and tiger lilies brightened up each table. And India had composed a song just for the occasion and played it at the close of the program on the piano, accompanied by cello and flute. She titled it simply, Joshua.
But when Colonel Bougie handed Betty from Mount Zion a cup of punch and asked if he might sit beside her for a spell, I knew that something wonderful was happening in old Mount Oak.
When the cleanup crew had almost finished, Marc Tipton efficiently organizing guys from churches all over town, Chris put an arm through mine.
“You done good, Popp.”
“You too, Chrissy.”
“Jason really seemed to appreciate it. Although he was a bit embarrassed at having to talk about what the scholarship meant to him.”
“I never knew anybody could blush to that deep a shade of red.”
“I know. And it was nice what he said about Josh.”
“Yeah. He was a good kid, Chrissy. I miss him.”
Chris nodded. “We always will. The pain hasn’t gone away, though, Popp. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yeah. I do.”
Ellen hollered, “Last call to all you worker bees!”
Chris turned to me. “What’ll you have?”
“I don’t know. Whatever you’re having.”
Chris put up two fingers and said to the Java Jane’s girls, “Two lattes, ladies. The largest you’ve got.”
I put my arms around her, hoping that when people we love go to heaven they’re allowed a peek at divine moments such as these.
About the Author
Lisa E. Samson lives in Maryland with her husband and three children, ages eleven, six, and four. She was christened Catholic, attended mass with her father on Saturday nights, and attended a Bible Presbyterian church with her mother on Sundays A.M. and P.M. and on Wednesday nights. Lisa attended a Methodist school from second through twelfth grade and went on to do undergraduate work at a strict Baptist university. Upon graduation from a more liberal Baptist university in 1987, she spent the summer at Oxford studying at Wycliffe Hall, an Anglican seminary. Because she and Will moved frequently during their early years of marriage, Lisa attended four PCA Presbyterian churches and one Presbyterian Church USA. She now attends a nondenominational Bible church with her family, where you’ll also find her leading worship with her guitar on Sunday nights and trying to figure out just how to lead a choir. Maybe one day she’ll figure out those tricky hand motions directors do! These days, however, she finds that when she lays her head down on the pillow at night and offers her prayers to God, she comes simply as His child and a woman who wants to love Jesus more than she does.