TITLE: Just me and the Lord 1/16 '13
By Karin Butts
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Just Me and The Lord
“Let’s see, we have one more visit for today. This is a single man in his seventies, residing at 10 N.E. 1st Street. Do you suppose this might be one of the first houses built in Charlottesville?” Abby asked.
Lottie gripped the steering-wheel of her car and kept her eyes on the narrowing road. “This is a country road right in the middle of town,” she said dumbfounded.
From the street, the narrow road had looked like it could lead into a wilderness. She spotted a small hut behind a wooden fence, overgrown with berry bushes and weeds and stopped in front of a mailbox marked 10 with large, black letters.
Abby’s long, brown hair brushed Lottie’s face as she leaned over her from the passenger seat, and tried to look through the fence. “See any dogs?”
“Not yet, but that doesn’t mean anything. We’re not supposed to open any gates,” Lottie warned. “Let’s see if the man sees us and comes out. What’s his name?”
“Name’s Will Thompson.” Abby folded the paper and stuck it in her purse.
They got out of the car and walked with hesitant steps toward the gate. “It’s a little spooky--look!” Lottie whispered, “Did you see the curtain move?” She pointed at the window, to the right of the door.
Abby rattled the Iron Gate a little. Just then the front door opened and a thin, bearded man appeared, wearing a straw hat. His bent back made him look small and frail. He wore a clean, threadbare, plaid shirt and jeans. As he trudged toward them he reminded Lottie of her grandfather, who had cultivated a garden on his one acre of land and wore a similar straw hat. Will’s wrinkled, sun-browned face might have been handsome in his youth, and his eyes resembled the bluish gray of a thunder cloud.
“Can I help you?” he asked smiling, his arms draped over the gate.
“We’ve stopped by for a visit from church,” Lottie said expecting him to open the gate and ask them to come in, but he didn’t.
“Thanks, that’s real nice of you,” he said, “We’re doing just fine.”
Lottie was at a loss for words since he obviously wasn’t interested in inviting them in, where they could sit and talk and get acquainted. Obviously, this would be a short visit.
After discussing the unseasonably warm weather, she concluded with, “If there is anything you need help with, we’d be glad to send someone from church to help out.”
He nodded his head and watched Abby who fumbled with her purse, and finally came up with a little devotional book and a church bulletin. She handed them to Will.
“If you ever feel up to coming to church just call the number on the bottom, we’ll send someone to pick you up and bring you back,” she said and looked at Lottie, who nodded her head in agreement.
“Sure nice of you, maybe one day we’ll come.” He reached over the fence to shake their hands respectively and turned as if to leave.
“Excuse me,” Abby said as she reached into her purse and pulled out the paper with his information. “Mr. Thompson, you are listed as living alone. I don’t mean to pry, but do you have someone living here with you?”
Will Thompson looked at the booklet for a moment, and then his peaceful gaze met Abby’s. “It’s just me and the Lord living here, and we’re doing just fine.”
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