Short Stories

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Jack groaned, glanced at the numbers on his alarm clock, and reached to grab the phone. Only one person in the world would find it socially acceptable to call before 11:00 am on a Saturday morning. He answered; trying to sound like he’d been awake for hours, but his “Hey mom” sounded more like a frog croaking then actual words.

“Jack,” she sighed, “I woke you?”

“No Mom,” came his easy reply, as he cleared his throat and muttered something about drinking and wrong pipes. “What can I do for you this fine morning?”

"Well I have some bad news, and I’m not sure how you are going to take it.” She spoke as though she was fighting back tears.

Jack felt his entire body go rigid. “Dear God,” he prayed, “what could possibly be wrong? Mom is usually so chipper and now she sounds very upset. Please don’t let it be bad.”

"What is it Mom? Are you sick?” Jack held his breath while trying to prepare for what she would say. Tragedy was not something he dealt with well. He was still mourning the death of the goldfish he won at a carnival last summer. How would he handle something big?

“I don’t know how to put this, so I guess I’ll just come out with it. Abigail Anderson has passed on,” she paused, waiting for his reaction.

Jack exhaled and thanked God that she was ok. He then began to feel anger rise within him.

“Geez Mom, I don’t even know Abigail Anderson! You call at nine am on a Saturday morning talking about bad news, only to tell me that a stranger has passed away? I am sorry if this has been upsetting for you, but don’t scare me like that again!”

Jack immediately regretted his words. “God help me get it together here. She needs comfort, not anger.”

He took a deep breath and apologized to his mother, whom he could tell was crying. “I’m sorry I yelled Mom, don’t cry. Tell what happened and I promise not to get testy again. I’m here for you.”

“Jacky,” she sniffled, “you know Abigail Anderson. She’s lived three houses down from us your entire life. She’s the woman who gave us Jesus. How could you not remember her?”

Jack flew out of his bed. “Mom, you mean sweet, old Mrs. Anderson? Jack could feel the bile rise up from his stomach. How could he have been so stupid? He racked his brain for any time he’d heard her first name, but couldn’t remember one. He’d only ever known her as Mrs. Anderson.

“Yes dear, that’s right she passed away during the night…” His mom continued on but Jack slowly tuned out to what she was saying.

“Uh mom, I have to go,” he said as he eased the phone back onto the receiver. His knees hit the floor. “God, no!” He prayed silently. Though he had not thought of her, kind old Mrs. Anderson in ages, now the memories, like his tears, came falling upon him like rain.

His first meeting with her was when he was seven and fell off of his bike in front of her house. She bandaged him up, gave him a cookie and walked him home. He began to make weekly house calls after that. She would read to him, from the bible mostly, but oh the stories she told, of Noah and the flood, and Jonah and the great whale. He loved those times. As he grew he began to help her around the house and she usually paid him for his chores, but he would have done them for free, he would have done anything for her. Then the day came that would change his world forever. His father died, of a heart attack, when Jack was just 14. Mrs. Anderson was there then as well. She never left his mothers side through the entire funeral process, and made all the calls and arrangements. It was then that she gave Jack his first real talk about Jesus, not just stories, and gave him his first bible. This was his fondest memory, for if not for her, and that talk, he would be a very different person today. There were many more, great memories and they flooded Jack’s heart like a warm blanket.

Jack led his mother into the chapel to the place reserved for them. Mrs. Anderson’s granddaughter, Julia, called a few days earlier and requested, on her grandmother’s behalf, that he speak at the memorial service. “A parting wish” she’d called it. Jack had since been racked with guilt for not staying in touch with the woman whom spent most of his young life with. Oh, she kept up with him all right, his mother had said, she’d ask about his comings and goings and what to pray for him, and left it at that. “What a fool I’ve been,” he thought, “I wasted the last chance I had to be with her and to let her know what she’d meant to my life.”

He became lost in his thoughts until he heard Julia begin to speak. “My grandmother spoke often of this person I am about to introduce to you. She lived three houses down from him and his family for 25 years. During her last weeks on earth, she reminisced about the people that had really mattered in her life, and Jack came up often as she wandered through her memories. She spoke of Jack as her God given grandson, and praised that God had given her one through unconventional means. Jack is here today, and he has agreed to come and honor her with a few words.”

Jack took his place at the podium. “I have been in prayer during these past few days, trying to decide the best way to honor the memory of Mrs. Anderson, a woman, who for most of my childhood and teenaged years was a constant presence in my life. During my own reminiscing I realized that she gave all of herself to everyone around her, including me. When my father died she spent many difficult hours consoling my mother and helping her through the same difficult time that your family is going through now. This was also when she gave me my very first bible and introduced me to Jesus. This was a turning point in my life, and everything that I am today, is because of what she gave to me then. I want to share with you a passage of scripture that I believe best sums up who she was. “ Jack turned to the book of Matthew and began to read. “For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.
Then the righteous will answer him, ‘ Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?
The King will reply, ‘ I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of . . . mine, you did for me.’ (Matt 25:35-40 NIV) Jack looked at the people in the sanctuary and said, “I was the least of his people, and she gave to me. She gave to us all.”

After the service was over Jack had made peace with, and said his goodbyes to, Mrs. Anderson. As they were leaving, he was stopped by Julia who embraced him and pressed an envelop in to his hand. “Thank you for everything, it was beautiful. Please take this letter home and read it when you are ready.” She released him and disappeared into the crowd.

It was a week later before Jack opened the letter from Mrs. Anderson. He gasped when pulled out a single sheet of paper and a check for $10,000. With tears streaming down his face he began to read.

Dearest Jack,
This will be my last time to share with you and so I want you to know just how much your presence in my life meant to me. You don’t know this, but you came into my life, on that first day we met, just weeks after my husband passed away. Your visits and invitations to your house for dinner brought me out of the darkest time I have ever known in this life. I believe that God sent you to give me hope and light, when I needed it the most. Because of your presence and the friendship of your mother, I was able to carry on without my husband, with a new purpose in life. At 65 years old, I fell in love with a seven year-old boy. This love lasts until this day. I thank you for the life you gave to me. I leave you with this gift, hoping it will help to make one of your dreams come true, and this last though. Jesus tells his disciples that if they give to the least his people it’s like they’re giving straight to him. I was the least of his people and you gave to me. God Bless You.

With Love,
Abigail Anderson

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