The Pastor -- Chapter 9 -- Fourth Advent Sunday

The Pastor

By Asche

Copyright 2015

Chapter 9 -- Fourth Advent Sunday

Sunday morning found the pastor in his study. He was still struggling with the sermon he'd have to deliver in about two hours. He knew he wanted to say something about Jesus having come into the world a nobody born to two nobodies, but he hadn't been able to get any further. He heard a knock on the door.

"Come on in." It wasn't like he had any train of thought that they'd be interrupting.

The door opened to show Ms. Taylor and Jesse -- no, Jessica. Jessica had on a long red velour dress with what looked like a taffeta bodice in a Christmas plaid, a hairband holding back her hair, and a smile that was so big it barely fit on her face.

"Mrs. Hanley was so nice, she found me this pretty, Christmas-y dress to wear. Isn't it pretty?" she gushed. She was playing with her hands and shifting from one foot to the other.

He couldn't help smiling in return. "Yes, it's really pretty. It's so pretty, I'll bet all the girls will be jealous," he teased.

"Momma says nobody will be able to see it under my choir robes. But I'll know I'm wearing it, and Momma will know, and now you will know," she giggled as she hung on her mother's wrist and wiggled around. Her mother whispered something to her. "Oh, Reverend, this is for you." She took something from her mother's hand and solemnly walked up to his desk and handed it to him.

It was a little angel Christmas ornament, with a cone made out of red construction paper for a robe, a styrofoam ball with a painted face for a head, yellow yarn for hair, and pipe-cleaner arms holding sheet music made of a scrap of white paper, and another pipe-cleaner for a halo.

"You can put it on your Christmas tree," she informed him.

"Thank you," he said to her and she beamed.

"Time for choir practice," said her mother. Jessica turned and skipped towards the door. When she reached it, she turned around and gave a little wave and said "goodbye!" before disappearing down the hall, singing "Oh Little Town of Bethlehem" in a high voice. Her mother shrugged and trotted after her. The pastor closed the door and went back to his sermon writing.

Later on, as he stood in church watching the children's choir process up to their seats, followed by the adult choir, he could see a little bit of red below the hem of Jesse's -- no, Jessica's -- robe, and he -- she still had the hairband on. He wondered if he'd have to deal with some pointed remarks later. But he could see Jessica's angelic face and hear her singing her heart out, and he could almost hear a voice saying, "well done," though he wasn't sure if the voice was talking to him or to Jessica.

He still hadn't written a sermon, so he was going to have to wing it for the first time in his life. He said a silent prayer to the Lord to give him the right words -- actually, any words at all -- when the time came.

The sermon hymn finished, and he still didn't know what he was going to say. He stood at the pulpit, no notes on the lecturn. He turned, saw Jesse's -- no, Jessica's -- smiling face looking at him. He opened his mouth and began to speak.

Later, the pastor couldn't exactly remember what he'd said. He had the idea he'd tied in a dozen Bible verses about how to treat the poor, the outcasts, the lepers, the lowliest of the low. He might have preached about "of such is the Kingdom of Heaven." But it was fuzzy in his mind. The only think he remembered clearly was seeing Jessica's -- yes, Jessica's face -- looking at him as he spoke. And when he sat down and the choir sang, among all the children and all the grownups, he could somehow clearly hear Jessica's sweet voice, singing like an angel from Heaven.

The End



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