It was a warm lazy Sunday afternoon the
first time I saw her. I was sitting on a pine plank church bench waiting
for the services to begin when I looked out the front door and saw her
walking across the churchyard. She shaded her eyes with a cardboard fan
as she passed through sunny patches between huge oaks.
Beneath her hat white hair reflected
the rays of the sun. Age gave dignity to her slow walk; she bore
gracefully the burden of years. She steadied her walk with a knobby
cane. At the church steps she paused, looked briefly across the nearby
cotton fields, then firmly took the steps into the building.
She took in the whole congregation with
one look and nodded to all. She put her cane and fan on a pew; removed
her hat, walked to the wall and hung her hat on a nail.
I went over and introduced myself. She
firmly shook my hand and said, "Well, preacher, I've come a long way to
hear some good preaching."
I looked into a pair of young and
dancing eyes that lit up a face wise with years, molded firm with
character, and said, "Well, I've come a long ways to do some good
preaching." She turned away chuckling, to find her pew. We were friends
from then on.
I preached often at that place and many
times I saw her hang her hat on a nail. We often repeated the saying
"She came to hear good preaching; I came to give it."
Years skipped away and I went from
there to other fields of labor. Sometime ago I returned to preach a
week's meeting. The building was modernized; new faces filled the room.
I sat in an unfamiliar factory made pew. I could see the churchyard only
partially through a side window. The huge oaks still stood shading the
men talking and waiting for the "bell song".
I caught myself looking for a familiar
figure. But I knew she was gone. I looked at the new sheetrock wall . .
. and the nail was pulled. In the chambers of imagery I could picture
the past and see her hang her hat on the nail. I listened to a far away
voice ..."I expect to hear some good preaching today", and I caught
myself mumbling, "I came to give it" ...
I thought of her coming to the portals
of glory: "Come in," said the Lord. Then motioning to a jasper wall he
said, "Hang your hat on that golden nail". She nodded and said, "Lord
I've come a long ways to find peace and rest." "I came to prepare it,"
He said.
Years have passed but the power and
charm of a simple, warm child of God lingers. And when I think of people
like her I thank God he has enriched my life, filling it with such
"little incidents, dear people, and precious memories." May we all be
wise to see the riches God has for His children.