Short Stories
Christmas With Jo
Her name was Joann, but everyone called her Jo. I met her at a Bible study at church. She was kind of plain and wore a cast on her arm the first time I saw her. The more I got to know Jo, the more I enjoyed the way she could make others feel good about themselves.
You would never know that Jo had lost her husband just four months before. When she spoke of her late husband, her eyes would light up, and she would say, “I was the luckiest woman in the world for the short time we had together.” She was never depressed that I could see, nor did she appear to be in pain with her arm.
Christmas was coming around, and it is my favorite time of year. Being around Jo was such a blessing. We became great friends. Our church was on fire for the Lord. Everyone was giving their time and money to help the poor in our community. We were witnessing in small groups at stores, gas stations, and even door-to-door. Jo was letting two families that had lost their homes from the hurricane stay with her temporarily. One family of four had lost a pet dog, while the other group consisting of grandparents and a four-year-old had lost the child’s mother despite a rescue effort. No one knew that Jo had signed over her house to the church, and that the families could stay as long as they wanted before finding permanent housing elsewhere. Then the church could continue using the house for other displaced people. Jo now lived in a small apartment, and only the pastor knew of her generous gift.
When the pastor mentioned it to the Board of Deacons during their monthly meeting in early September, they were touched and amazed by this woman’s selflessness. Somehow the word leaked out, and the entire church voted to surprise Jo with a gift of some kind to show their appreciation. I think even God must have been proud of her.
About twenty of us got together and decided after the next evening service to give Jo the present we had bought from members’ donations. Eagerly we watched for her to appear that night, hoping desperately to keep our plan a surprise, but enjoying the suspense and wondering if Jo would notice anything before the end of the service when refreshments would be served as our pastor made the announcement.
To our surprise, she didn’t show up. And before the service ended, we got the bad news that Joe had been in a car accident and was in a coma. Shocked, the congregation broke down into tears and prayer.
But we weren’t giving up. Our member started a prayer chain. If someone had a computer, he or she was emailing everyone they could think of to pray for Jo. The pastors called all the churches they could so other congregations could pray for this amazing woman.
But then Christmas Eve came, and the doctors gave up hope at last. I stopped at the hospital to pray with Jo; there was no response from her. Soon other church members appeared, along with a sister who lived several states away. After a couple of hours I decided to get a cup of coffee.
“Call me,” I asked the nurse, letting her know where I would be. As I sat drinking my coffee in the small hospital cafeteria, my cell phone rang. It was the nurse.
“You better come quickly,” she said.
Expecting the worst, I prayed silently. “Please Lord, watch over Jo. Don’t let her die.”
Entering her room with trepidation, I stopped abruptly. There was Jo sitting up, although her visitors were gone. I ran to her side and she squeezed my hand with a bright if weak smile.
“Please tell everyone not to cry for me anymore. The Lord wants me to spend Christmas with Him. He even sent my husband to take me home.”
I couldn’t speak as my eyes filled with tears, but I nodded and tried to smile.
Jo went home that night. Saying good-bye was hard, but she seemed like the lucky one, eager to meet her Lord face-to-face at last, and to see her beloved husband again. But I will always believe we were the lucky ones, blessed with her example and testimony for the few years of her short life. But it was enough to point us all in the right direction.
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