Mr. Samuels had told him that another group of volunteers from Texas was arriving tomorrow to help with clearing the debris that still littered the streets. The town selectmen appeared excited about all the volunteers who’d come to get the town up and running again, but they still hadn’t publicly added their support to the nativity. And nobody had tackled Bethlehem Green yet.
With all of the work taking place around town, a few more people had returned to try to get their homes back to what they’d once been. With so many buildings destroyed, Mike had no idea where he would find a place to live, but that could come after everybody else was taken care of. As long as he had the couch in his office, he at least had a place to sleep.
He’d seen Emma every day, and she was trying to put up a brave front. But he knew she was approaching the breaking point. When she’d come by the shelter early this morning, she’d looked tired. She bristled a bit when he suggested that perhaps she needed to take the day off and get some rest.
“I can’t rest,” she said. “Even though the school isn’t open yet, I’ve contacted the girls in the choir who are still in town. We’re having practice at ten o’clock, but I don’t know if we even have enough to sing. Then I’ve got to find someone to clean up the green, and I need to call the company about the material for the costumes. If we don’t get it delivered in the next week, the ladies may not have enough time to get them finished.”
With that she’d hurried out the door. He’d tried to call her back, but she didn’t turn around.
Mike glanced at his watch and opened his door. It was almost time for the volunteers to begin serving the evening meal. He made a practice of being there at that time in case people needed him for anything. As he took his first step outside his office, his foot hit something, and he stumbled.
Surprised, he looked down, and his eyes widened in shock. Three white crates with the words “United States Postal Services” stamped on them sat on the floor. They were overflowing with mail. All of the envelopes he could see were addressed to Bethlehem Community Church, Bethlehem, Maine. He frowned, picked up a letter with a postmark of Colorado on it, and ripped the envelope open. Why would someone in Colorado be writing to his church?
He pulled out a white piece of stationery, unfolded it, and sucked in his breath when three twenty-dollar bills met his eyes. He read the short note:
Dear Pastor Mike,
I saw the news report on television about how your church is trying to have Bethlehem’s traditional live nativity even though Hurricane Eleanor nearly destroyed the town. I wanted to have a small part in helping your congregation. Please accept this gift and use it wherever you have a need.
Sincerely,
Molly Southerland
Silverton, Colorado
“News report?” he whispered. “In Colorado?”
He pulled out several letters from each crate and stared at the postmarks. California, Texas, North Carolina, Minnesota. Why were people all over the country writing to his little church in Maine? He opened several of the envelopes, and like the one from Molly Southerland, they each contained a short note of support for the nativity and either cash or a check. He mentally added the total from the opened letters and gasped.
“That’s over a thousand dollars from those few envelopes,” he whispered.
“What are you mumbling about?” He whirled at the sound of Emma’s voice and stared open-mouthed at her.
“What are you doing here?”
“I came to tell you Sarah Davis needs to see you in the fellowship hall.” She took a step closer and frowned. “What’s the matter? You have the strangest expression on your face.”
He waved a hand in the direction of the mail crates. “I just found all this mail outside my door. Since the hurricane the mailman has been leaving the mail with the ladies in the fellowship hall, but he must’ve brought this to my office this afternoon. I was so involved in studying my sermon I didn’t hear him.”
Emma frowned and stared down at the crates. “Where did it all come from?”
He held up the letters he’d just opened. “They’re from all over the country. Every one I’ve opened contains money to help with the nativity. I already have over a thousand dollars just from the ones I’ve opened.”
Emma’s eyes grew wide. “What? How do these people know about the nativity?”
“Molly Southerland said she heard some news report.”
“News report? Do you think she means Kelsey’s story? But that can’t be right. Kelsey did that story for a Maine television station.”
He nodded and held up the money. “I know, but that doesn’t change the fact that people we’ve never heard of have sent us donations to help stage the nativity.”
“Do you think all these other letters might contain money?”
“I don’t know, but we need to open them soon. We’ll have to keep good records so we can thank them.” He picked up the crates one by one and shoved them inside his office then locked the door. “After we’re through serving the evening meal, we can open them in the fellowship hall where we’ll have more room.”
“Okay.”
They’d only taken a few steps when Mike’s cell phone rang. He stopped and pulled it from his pocket.
“Hello.”
“Hi, Pastor Mike. This is Kelsey Warren.”
Mike smiled. “Hi, Kelsey. How are you?”
“I’m great. Still working to keep the public informed, but I had some news I wanted to share.”
Emma leaned forward and whispered. “Tell Kelsey I said hi.”
He nodded. “Emma says to tell you hi.”
“Tell her the same for me. I think she’s going to be excited about my news.”
“What is it?”
“The story I did about Bethlehem was well received, and it caught the attention of someone at the network in New York. They passed it on to the national nightly newscast, and they gave it a big spot on the news that night and then repeated it the next day on their morning show. The story of how one little town is struggling in this economy to get back on its feet after being hit so hard and is determined to perform the yearly live nativity has touched people nationwide. You wouldn’t believe the e-mails and tweets the network has received from churches about how they want to help Bethlehem with the nativity.”
Understanding dawned on Mike, and he smiled. “Oh, that explains the crates full of mail the church received today. I’ve only opened a few letters, but they were from all over the country, and all of them contained money to help with putting on the nativity.”
“Then I suspect the other letters contain money, too, because the story not only made the networks, it also hit YouTube. Youth groups across the country are discussing it on social media, too.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No, it’s true. Churches and Christian organizations are keeping their eyes on your town to see if you can pull off this nativity in the midst of devastation, and they want you to do it. There’s no telling what you’ll experience in the next few days. I just wish I could be there to share it with you and Emma.”
Mike started to speak, but he choked up and had to clear his throat. He struggled to get the words out. “Thank you, Kelsey. This wouldn’t have happened if it hadn’t been for you and Tanner. We owe you a big debt of gratitude.”
She laughed, and the sound echoed in his ear. “You owe me nothing, my friend. I’ve gained something I thought I’d lost a long time ago. I haven’t had much time for God in the last few years, but coming to Bethlehem and seeing the faith you and Emma have, I discovered that God hasn’t forgotten me. I’m getting all kinds of recognition over reporting such a warm human interest story. Emma was right when she said she was waiting to see what God would do. It looks like He’s starting to show us.”
“I’m so glad, Kelsey.”
“And, Pastor Mike, I intend to be standing in the front row during the nativity on Christmas Eve night.”
Mike laughed. “That’s great. We
’ll see you then.”
“Oh, and one more thing. I met a group of men who volunteer to help clean up after hurricanes, tornadoes, and such when I went to the Gulf Coast after their last hurricane. They’re from a church in Tennessee and call themselves the Nehemiah Crew. The leader of the group called me today and said they’re heading up to Bethlehem to get the green cleaned out. They should be there in a few days.”
Mike closed his eyes and propped his hand against the hallway wall. “I don’t know why I’m so overwhelmed when I knew God could do it, but I am.”
Kelsey laughed. “Maybe you’re just thankful.”
“That’s definitely correct.”
“I have to go now, but I’ll be checking in to see how things are going. Bye.”
Mike disconnected the call and tried to digest everything Kelsey had just said. When he didn’t say anything, Emma grabbed his arm and shook it. “Aren’t you going to tell me what Kelsey said?”
He reached out and took her hand in his. “You were right, Emma. All we had to do was get out of God’s way.”
Her eyes grew even wider. “And what did He do?”
He watched her expression change from excitement to shock to happiness as he told her the conversation he’d had with Kelsey. When he finished, she was so excited she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him.
“Oh, Mike, I knew God would help us. Isn’t He wonderful?” His arms tightened around her, and she suddenly stiffened and pulled away. Her face turned crimson, and she tried to break his hold on her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
He pulled her back to him. “Yes, you should have. It was exactly the perfect thing to do.” He gazed into her eyes for a moment before he lowered his face to hers. “I’ve never known anyone like you, Emma. The times we’ve spent together in the last few weeks have been the best of my life, and I don’t want it to end after the nativity is complete.”
She directed a somber gaze at him. “Neither do I.”
He smiled. “And that is very good to know.”
Then he pulled her closer and pressed his lips against hers. A thrill like he’d never known rushed through him at her response, and he realized something. The last few weeks might have been the best he’d ever known, but what lay before them in the future promised to be even better.
Chapter 8
The next few weeks seemed to fly by with every day bringing them closer to staging the nativity. On the first Sunday in December, following the benediction, Pastor Mike asked those who planned to help with the nativity to remain for a short meeting. To his surprise the whole congregation sat back down, settled into their seats, and waited for him to speak.
“As you know,” he said, “the nativity plans got off to a rocky start, but I’m so thankful for the members of this church who never gave up and persevered to make it happen.” He turned and smiled at Emma in the choir. “Especially Emma Townsend, who kept reminding all of us that God could take our efforts and make them into whatever He wanted. When we got out of God’s way, we saw that she was right. I thought it would be good if we went over our plans this morning and see what needs to be done before the first performance.”
Chester Dyer stood and held up his hand. “Pastor Mike, I’ll start off by letting you know everything is now on schedule. That crew from Tennessee arrived, and I couldn’t believe how fast they worked. They had the downed trees cut up and hauled off in just a few days. Then they cleaned out the debris and got all the fishing boats towed back to the marina. Even with the snowfall last night, the green is in good condition and looks great. There were some damaged limbs on the trees that weathered the storm, and we cut them out just to be safe. Didn’t want them falling on someone during the nativity. So everything looks good.”
“That’s good news, Chester. So is everything ready for you and Dwight to begin building the set?”
Chester nodded. “We plan to get started in the morning. It shouldn’t take long now. And I saw Dr. Norwood yesterday, and he said he had the animals all lined up. They’ll arrive in plenty of time for the nativity, and he has everything arranged for their care while they’re here.”
Mike smiled. “Wonderful.” He glanced around the congregation. “Who’s next? John, how about the music?”
John stood. “All the solos are lined up, and Emma has been practicing with her girls’ choir. Quite a few families have left town, so we’re going to have a smaller group than last year, but we’ll have music.”
“And tell the congregation about the generator,” Mike said.
“I was worried we might not be able to purchase a new generator, but with all the money that people across the country have donated, we were able to buy a bigger and better one than we originally had.”
“That’s awesome news, isn’t it, people?”
Heads bobbed and several shouted out a loud yes. Mike glanced across the crowd and spied Janet Burgess. He smiled at her. “Janet, how about you? What’s the word on the costumes?”
Janet got to her feet. “Pastor Mike, some of the material finally came in last week, but we found out that the material for the wise men’s costumes—the very colorful, more fancy fabric—had to be backordered. We decided we’d do the best we could and scheduled a meeting for that afternoon to start cutting them out even though we doubted we could finish in time. We only have two sewing machines that survived the storm.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize that,” Mike said.
“Well, it turned out it didn’t matter. Right after lunch a delivery truck arrived with several big boxes addressed to the Bethlehem Sewing Circle. They were from an opera group in Pennsylvania. When we opened them, there was a letter inside one that said they performed the opera Amahl and the Night Visitors last Christmas, and they wanted to share some costumes with us.”
Mike frowned and shook his head. “I’m not familiar with that opera.”
“I saw it once when I was visiting family in New York. The story is about a boy who dreams he is a disabled shepherd boy who lives with his mother in biblical times. One night they have three visitors come by their house wanting a place to sleep. They are wise men who are seeking a baby that has been born, and they have gifts for him. Their robes are the grandest thing Amahl has ever seen.” Janet caught her breath and waved her hand in dismissal. “Anyway, there’s more to the story, but the point is this opera group didn’t have any use for the wise men costumes anymore, and they sent them to us. We’re going to have the richest-looking wise men we’ve ever had when they put on these robes.”
Mike’s eyebrows arched, and he turned to Emma. “You didn’t tell me about this.”
She smiled. “Sorry. There’s been so much happening. I guess I forgot.”
From the back row of the church Gordon Brown’s voice rang out. “I’m in charge of the actors, and I haven’t heard anything about who’s filling the parts of the wise men.”
Mike turned back around and faced Gordon. “I’m not sure we know that yet, Gordon. Maybe we will in a few days.”
“I’d like to say something, Pastor Mike.” For a moment Mike couldn’t identify the speaker. He glanced across the congregation and then sucked in his breath when Murray Samuels slowly stood.
Mike’s first impression was that the man had aged at least ten years in the weeks since Eleanor. That was no surprise, though, since he’d been going nonstop ever since the storm moved inland. “Of course, Mr. Samuels.”
To Mike’s surprise the selectman stepped out of the pew into the aisle and walked toward the front of the church. He didn’t stop until he stood next to Mike. Then he took a deep breath and faced the congregation.
“All of you know my position on staging the nativity this year. I spoke out against it the first time Pastor Mike and Emma brought it up. With the task of rebuilding our town facing us, I didn’t think we had any business distracting ourselves with something that wouldn’t help us get back to the way life was here before the storm.”
Mike glanced over his should
er at Emma. She arched her eyebrows as if to ask why Mr. Samuels was bringing this up again, and Mike gave a small shrug before he turned back to the selectman.
Mr. Samuels looked at Mike and gave him a weary smile. “But, Pastor, I want you to know I was wrong. Life can’t get back to normal until we put all our faith in the One who gives life. Somewhere along the way I forgot that.” He smiled at Emma. “Emma, you have been an example to all of us by making us see what God can do if we really trust Him. I want you to know that I wholeheartedly support the nativity, and the selectmen will be honored to be the three wise men in this year’s production.”
Mike almost laughed out loud at the stunned look on Emma’s face. She clamped her hand over her mouth as tears trickled down her cheeks. The congregation rose to their feet and applauded as Mr. Samuels let his gaze drift over the people he’d known for years. The weariness that had lined his face moments before seemed to disappear.
Mike reached up and grasped Mr. Samuels’s shoulder. “Thank you. The citizens of Bethlehem are fortunate to have you as an elected official. And we thank you for all you’ve done in the past few weeks.”
Mr. Samuels smiled. “And one more thing. The council decided it wouldn’t be Christmas without the tree-lighting ceremony. So we’ve ordered an eighteen-foot tree from a farm down in Vermont. It should arrive next week. Although there’s a lot of damage downtown, it’s going to be placed across from City Hall. We’ll light it a week from tomorrow.”
Another round of applause erupted from the congregation. Mike held up his hand for quiet. “I’d say the Lord has blessed us today. Let’s thank Him before we go our separate ways.” Everyone bowed their heads, and Mike began to pray. “Oh, Lord, thank You for what we’ve seen happen in our town in the past few weeks. You have raised us to stand above the despair that followed Hurricane Eleanor’s arrival on our shore, and You have reminded us that all things are possible with You. Now be with us as we get ready for the production of the nativity, and keep us ever mindful where all our blessings come from. In Your blessed name. Amen.”
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