I found this story at Vibrant Faith at Home; I'm reposting here:
The Last Pew in Back
by Michael Theisen
Sarah
was seven when she met Evelyn for the first time, who easily had a 75 year head
start on life. Sarah, the oldest of three, was given the “big job” of watching
her younger brother and sister as together they occupied the last pew of the
church during the 5:00 pm Saturday Worship Service. They always sat in that
last pew, and always at the same service, because it was the closest one to the
doors where her parents were stationed in their weekly role as “greeters”.
Sarah thought Evelyn
looked lonely sitting all by herself in the pew so at the end of worship she
leaned over and offered her one of the pictures she had drawn, along with a
smile and a short seven-year old introduction, causing Evelyn to smile too, a
first for her that day. The following Saturday at 5 pm Evelyn showed up in the
pew next to Sarah again and the picture exchange was repeated, this time before
worship started, along with a few more back and forth exchanges. The next
several weeks turned into months and the months into five years as Sarah, then
twelve, and Evelyn exchanged many more stories than pictures on Saturdays at
5:00 pm. Evelyn wanted to know how was Sarah was doing in school? Did she make
the play? Where did she go on vacation? Did she work out the problem with her
neighbor friend? Their weekly reunions in the last pew in the back had become a
highlight for both.
Later that year, Evelyn
began missing worship, and after the third week in a row, Sarah grew worried.
During the reading of the prayers, Sarah heard Evelyn’s name read aloud under
the list of those who had passed away that week. She turned to her parents,
tears already on her cheeks and cried, “I have to go to her funeral!”
Sarah’s mom held onto Sarah and tried to comfort her. She said that the funeral
would most likely be during school, but Sarah didn’t care, she had to say
goodbye to her 5:00 Saturday friend.
The wake was held later
that week at the church. As Sarah walked toward the casket that held Evelyn,
she was encircled by a group of strangers who were all staring at her. “I bet
you’re Sarah,” one of the women said with tears forming in her eyes. “Yes I
am,” Sarah replied with surprise, “how did you know?” “Oh, we know all about
you!” a man said who was standing next to the woman. “Evelyn was our Mother,
and you were her favorite reason to come to church.”
As he said this, his
sister held up a stack of slightly wrinkled color drawings. “Up until yesterday
these decorated our Mother’s refrigerator for the past five years. Some weeks
she wasn’t really up to going to church, but she would insist saying, ‘I have
to see my friend Sarah!’ You were a Godsend to her and we had hoped you would
come today so we could finally meet you in person and thank you for making her
feel so welcomed at church.”
I first heard Sarah share
this story on a youth retreat as a senior in high school, explaining why she
chose to become a greeter at the age of thirteen, and how she now finds herself
standing alongside her parents behind the last pew in church as they welcome
those coming to the Saturday 5:00 pm Worship.
As a
parent, do you ever wonder if the choices you make have any impact upon your
children? We may believe our efforts go for naught or that we are just going
through the motions as a family, but the reality is that what we do as parents
matter… a lot! May we never lose sight of the eyes that are always upon us and
the hearts that are still being formed by what we do and how we do it.
******************************************************** Indeed, how could I not think of my own children when I read this? The most highly anticipated moment of church each Sunday for Pax is the time just after communion. His weekly ritual includes a solemn receiving of the bread and wine, usually accompanied by a loud "Amen." Every week, I remind him to walk back nicely to the pew, and every week, he darts ahead of me, just out of reach, to smack the banner hanging in the side aisle on the way back. He run-walks ahead, bypassing our pew until he reaches the very back, where his Buddy (Mr. N.) is running the sound system. Pax sneaks in under his arm, quiet as a mouse (which is, in itself, remarkable, as those who sit near us can attest). Sometimes, he helps with pushing a few buttons. Other times, he stands and watches. Always, he is welcomed, included, and embraced. A little later, Pax returns to our pew, his breath fresh from the tic tacs he gets from Mr. N. He looks at me and grins.
Their friendship? It matters.... in the eyes that are watching, the hearts that are growing, the faith that is forming.
