For The Least Of These (14 page)

“I’m sure it will be soon. Be patient.”

I looked around the room and noticed that most of the seats were filled. A petite old lady with short gray hair was heading towards me with something in her hand. She was dressed in a faded blue dress that was cinched at the waist, and her stockings were sagging. She had a smile that would put Jimmy Carter to shame and deep-set dimples on each cheek. Her blue eyes were twinkling and I was beginning to think that she might be my fairy godmother come to grant my wish. “Hello, Dear,” she said in her best grandmotherly voice.

“Hi,” I replied. I really didn’t want to talk to her.

“Are you and your husband visiting today?”

Adam quickly turned around when he heard her ask that particular question. “Hello,” he said. He reached his hand out and the old lady took it. “I’m Adam, and this is Brandy.”

“Well, I’m Betty. I’m so happy you decided to come visit with us today.” She handed the item in her hand to Adam. It looked like some kind of questionnaire. She also gave him a pencil. “Please fill out our visitor’s slip and place it in the collection dish when it comes around. We want to know all about you!” She was so sweet, I was certain honey was going to flow from her mouth at any moment.

Adam assured her that we would do as she asked. Before she could say anymore, someone began playing the piano, so Betty turned and walked back down the aisle.

“What now?” I asked Adam.

“You act like you’ve never been to church before,” he said. “This is the Call to Worship.”

“Oh. Okay. Adam, you know, I haven’t really been to church before…Just once for a wedding and a few times for funerals.”

Adam stared at me in disbelief. “Are you kidding?’

“I wouldn’t kid about a thing like that.”

He wanted to ask me more, but the music was ending and a tall lean man with thinning gray hair was approaching the podium. Wearing a tan suit, a white shirt, and a pale blue tie, he was perhaps the best dressed person in the place, and I guessed that he must be the pastor. He yelled out, “Good morning!” and the congregation replied back cheerfully. He welcomed one and all to Grace Life Center, especially all of the visitors, and then he proceeded to rattle off a list of things that I assumed were the announcements.

When the man was done with his announcements, he stepped off the stage. I then noticed that there was a young man seated behind the podium. He had curly brown hair that was a little messy, and a thin mustache. He was wearing a plaid shirt and a pair of faded jeans. He remained seated as a middle-aged woman walked around behind the podium. The woman was wearing a worn gray sweater over a stained T-shirt and worn-out jeans. She was carrying a Bible which she spread open on the podium.

“Please turn in your Bibles to Luke, chapter 18,” she said.

After a brief pause, she began reading from the Bible. I still hadn’t found Luke, much less chapter 18. I was flipping all through the Bible from under my seat, but I just couldn’t locate it. Adam reached over and gently took the book from me. In a few short seconds, he had found Luke and the correct chapter. He even pointed to the verse she was reading. I was impressed.

When the woman finished, several people in the congregation began applauding. As she walked off the stage, some grabbed her hand to shake it and others hugged her. I wondered at this. One thing I thought I knew about church was that no one received praise except Jesus. I couldn’t figure out what was going on.

Apparently the young man seated on the stage could detect my confusion even at a distance because he stood up and began to explain. “I’m sure Margaret won’t mind if I let everyone in on her story of praise. When she first came to Grace Life, Margaret was unable to read. She had a learning disability, and when she was in school, no one was willing to help her. She had trouble finding and keeping jobs, and she didn’t have a home to go to at night. But Jesus led Margaret to our door. We welcomed her with open arms, and, in time, we convinced Margaret to let us help her. First of all, we found Margaret a place to stay, and then Joe Bates, one of our elders and a high school English teacher, took Margaret under his wing. He’s worked with her on her reading two and three nights a week, sometimes more. After two years, Margaret is now able to read at the level of a tenth grader – and she’s not stopping until she can read as well or better than a high school graduate. Today was Margaret’s first public reading, and I think she did wonderfully.”

Everyone applauded Margaret, and now I thought I understood why. “She’s really worked hard. She should be proud of herself,” I whispered to Adam.

I could tell by his expression that he was disappointed in what I said. “She has worked hard, but all of this was accomplished by God’s grace, Brandy. She couldn’t have done it without Him.”

I never imagined that this religious stuff could be so complicated. Praying, being humble, going to church
– it was easy to see why my parents had chosen to steer clear. Still, there seemed to be something to it all. Margaret had been a homeless illiterate woman just two years ago. Maybe I needed to start praying more. And my first bit of praying was going to involve Adam…

The young man on the stage asked us to prepare our hearts for a moment of silent prayer. I figured that convincing God to give me Adam was going to take more than a minute of praying, so instead I thanked God for letting me meet Adam in the first place and for letting me be smart enough to see through Rick.

After our silent prayer was finished, the young man began praying out loud. He was even better at it than Adam had been. He prayed for different people with health and other problems. He prayed for the church, the elders, and for the entire congregation. He prayed for God to open the heart of anyone who didn’t have a personal relationship with his son, Jesus. I knew he was talking directly to me. I was beginning to think that knowing Jesus would be a good thing, but I also knew I’d have to change a lot of things in my life. I wasn’t sure I was ready to do that, so I just thought about something else and wished he would finish his prayer.

At the end of the prayer, he asked us to stand. Recorded music erupted from speakers that were apparently well placed around the room. I didn’t recognize the tune, but then the only hymn I knew was “Amazing Grace” and that was only because I had seen the Maverick movie. As promised in the bulletin, the words of the song were visible on the monitors up front. The name of the first song was “Holy, Holy, Holy”. It was slow and I didn’t really understand the references to “God in three persons”. The second song was “Blessed
Be Your Name”. I liked it better, but it still wasn’t great.

I became bored at this point and started looking around. I noticed that many of the people here were dressed similarly to Margaret. As we moved on to song three, I was too busy scrutinizing the congregation to notice the song title. Some of the people looked really dirty and scary. A few of them looked like bikers. I suddenly realized that if I’d met most of these people on the street, I would have
run the other way. What kind of church was this?

Evidently I had gotten so wrapped up in examining the flock that I didn’t hear the man tell us that we could sit down. Adam grabbed my arm and pulled me down into my seat. “Would you behave?” he asked, half-jokingly.

The remainder of the service dragged. They took up the collection and the man prayed a few more times. I finally concluded that he was the pastor when he started to preach. His sermon was on Matthew 9:9-13. I listened part of the time. He was talking about how Jesus ate with sinners and tax collectors, and then he spoke about how the sick need a doctor, not the healthy. I wasn’t sure what all of that meant. The Bible was really an enigma to me. I hadn’t read it, but I questioned how men could have written God’s word. Maybe Adam would explain it to me later. In the meantime, I just flipped through the pages and read snippets here and there. I was wishing we would sing again so I could at least move around a bit.

As I became more and more disinterested in the sermon, I decided that maybe I could pray for Adam while Reverend What’shisname went on and on. I didn’t really know how to begin, so I just started thinking of what I wanted to tell God. I asked Him if He would please let Adam realize that I really cared about him. Then I asked Him to let Adam fall in love with me. I promised Him that I would start being a better person, that I would start going to church all the time, that I would actually pay attention to the preacher when I went to church, and that I would pray before every meal and before I went to bed at night. Oh, and then I added that I would start reading the Bible faithfully. I made a lot of promises, but Adam was worth it. I fully intended to keep each one. Well, at least until Adam was mine.

I was so relieved when the service was over. I was ready to run out to Adam’s car and get as far away from all these weird people as I could possibly get. I had convinced myself that most of these folks were just at the church to watch the congregation and pinpoint who they should mug or assault after the service.

Before I could make a break for it, Adam and I were surrounded by a bunch of people. It seemed that the whole congregation was closing in on us. Most of the people just wanted to shake our hand and thank us for coming. A few of them asked us questions about our lives. Adam was careful to avoid mentioning his profession, and I just avoided talking as much as possible. Everyone seemed to think that Adam and I were a couple, and neither of us corrected their impressions. Adam just didn’t want to explain, and I just kept dreaming that God was answering my prayers and that we were a couple.

When we made it to the car at last, I had a million questions for Adam. Unfortunately, before I could ask even one, he noticed that he had a voicemail message on his cell phone. The message was from Rick. He and Alicia wanted us to meet them for lunch at an Italian restaurant called Moretti’s. I knew right away that Alicia had chosen the restaurant because of the name. She probably thought that I was related to the owners or something crazy like that. I’d have to make her aware that the Italian name Moretti was similar to the English name Smith in that it was very common. As far as I knew, all my American Moretti cousins lived in New Jersey. The rest of them lived in Italy.

Adam entered the address Rick had given him into the GPS, and we started following the directions the voice gave him. After a few minutes, I had a revelation, and I said to Adam, “I thought they just ate breakfast. Why are we going to lunch already?”

“Aren’t you hungry?” he asked. “It is after 12:30. I don’t know when or even if they ate, and I don’t care. I’m ready for lunch.”

I did notice that my stomach was rumbling a little. And we were about to eat Italian, one of my favorites. Of course, most foods were my favorites
– evidenced by my full figure – but real Italian was one of my comfort foods, reminding me of summer visits from my Nonna. My mouth started watering. “Yeah, I’m hungry, too.”

Within ten minutes, we were pulling into the parking lot at Moretti’s. The shape and size of the building reminded me of an old Pizza Hut except the roof was green instead of red. The name “Moretti’s” was emblazoned on the top of the building in huge red letters.

Rick and Alicia were already there. They were standing beside the Ford Taurus some of the band guys had been driving at the rehearsal the night before. I thought Alicia looked a little reticent, and I wondered if she felt guilty about this thing with Rick. I was certain that she didn’t – especially since I was sure she thought she was saving me. Rick, on the other hand, looked happy and exuberant. He rushed to meet us and hugged me much too enthusiastically. I really wanted to retch on him again, but I wasn’t able to. When he released me, I just smiled wanly at him.

“Are you feeling better today?” he asked.

I was somewhat amazed that he was asking after my health. I supposed that his mother had taught him some manners. “Yes, much better,” I replied frigidly.

“Well, let’s go in and get some lunch. Alicia and I spent the morning talking at a coffee shop and we never did get around to having breakfast. I’m famished.”

We all went into the restaurant. Rick held the door for Alicia, but he let it go when Adam started inside. Adam grabbed it before it slammed into him, and he held it open for me to enter. A young girl with blond hair approached us. She was wearing a tight red sweater and a short black skirt. She reached towards a stack of menus and asked Rick, “How many?” and Rick held up four fingers. The girl then led us to a booth along the back wall of the restaurant. “Your server will be with you shortly,” she said as she walked away. Rick sat beside Alicia, so Adam and I sat on the other side.

Moretti’s didn’t look any more Italian inside than it had outside. The inside was not decorated at all. There were booths around the walls and tables in the center of the dining area. The carpet was a drab green. There was a sparse salad bar sitting up towards the front, and the kitchen was in plain view behind it. Yep, it looked a lot like the old Pizza Hut back home. I began to worry that the food wouldn’t really be Italian after all.

An older woman came to take our drink order. She was plump and she wore her graying black hair in a bun. She could have been Italian, but it was hard to say. After she left, I stared at the menu.

Alicia hadn’t said anything up until this moment, now she said to me, “Do you think one of your relatives…”

I cut her off, “No. This restaurant doesn’t belong to my long lost uncle. Moretti is a common Italian name.”