Marco Teórico

Allison was pacing in her kitchen when Jack Henry arrived. She felt guilty calling him so late at night, but the more she thought about it, the more she knew it couldn’t wait. “I’m sorry, Pastor,” she apologized, as she let him in and he sat down at the kitchen table.

“It’s alright. I thought you might need to talk after the will was read.” He felt very weary. The day had started out so well, he thought. And now here he was; Hazel had died and he was sitting with Allison to discuss Mary’s bequest. He knew Allison had

enough she was going to have to deal with tonight, so he didn’t tell her about Hazel. Time enough for that tomorrow.

As she poured them both a cup of tea, she settled into the chair opposite his. She noticed the sadness in his eyes and started to regret having disturbed him. It was not like her to need someone else to turn to. She was always strong and independent, but she was thrown and knew he was the only one with answers.

“So, Pastor, I understand you know about the bequest,” she said with just the smallest hint of resentment. He could have warned her, she thought.

“I’m sorry, Allison. Your mother made me promise not to say anything,” he said, reading her

thoughts.

“Why? What is this all about? I don’t understand,” she said, as she shook her head. “Tell me what you know. What happened this afternoon?” he asked.

Allison sipped from her cup and told him.

Jenny and Allison arrived at Earl Henderson’s office at a few minutes before three. They were Mary’s only close relatives and the only ones that needed to be there. Both daughters knew that their father left an insurance policy for their mother when he died and that she was well taken care of. Her medical bills had been paid and the mortgage had been paid off just before Patrick McFarland died. Neither one of the girls really thought about the estate except to be grateful that their mother was comfortable in her own home before she died. But now, the reality of the future was at hand and they were here to find out the particulars.

“Allison, Jenny, please sit down,” Earl Henderson said, as his secretary ushered them into his small office.

“I’m so sorry for your loss. Mary will be missed,” he said genuinely. Earl had been their parents’ attorney since they were married and was a trusted friend of the family. Allison felt the beginnings of a headache form at her temples. For no particular reason, she hadn’t slept very well the night before. She faced this day with a small amount of dread. Once the will was read and Patty’s training complete, she would be heading back to Wallace & Wallace. It would be the end of her familiar life in Maplewood and she

would only have

memories of her mother. She already felt the emptiness in the house as she walked room to room to finish the packing. She and Jenny already knew that they were to inherit the house. Since she and John had their own home, Jenny told Allison that she was welcome to stay in their mother’s house. Allison was grateful for the offer, but declined. She was going back to her apartment and life in the city. So with regret, they decided to sell the McFarland home. There were many wonderful memories in the house on Hillside Ave. Mr. Henderson opened the envelope that housed Mary McFarland’s will. She had added the codicil only 8 months before and Earl knew that neither of the girls knew of its existence. He would have preferred that Mary discuss it with them before she died, but it was her choice not to.

First he read the main portion of the will explaining that the girls were to inherit everything equally. There was the house and its possessions; Mary had a special pair of gold earrings that Patrick had given her on their 25th _{anniversary, she wanted Jenny to}

have; there was her golden crucifix she wanted Allison to have. There was a small

insurance policy for them to split. Allison knew Jenny would put her portion of the policy and house profit into a savings account for the twins future. John provided well for them and this would give them a nice nest egg. Allison would use her half to eventually purchase a home for herself, perhaps a condo in the city in that new building on Morton Ave.

When Mr. Henderson folded the will and replaced it in the folder, Jenny stood up to leave.

“Oh. I’m sorry,” she said, surprised that there was more.

“Your mother added this last year,” he said as he pulled a VCR tape out of the box on his desk and placed it into the machine across the room.

Both the girls just looked at each other, puzzled. Earl pushed the button and the tape began to play.

“Allison, Jenny,” their mother was saying from the TV in front of them. The girls started to cry at the unexpected image of their deceased mother, alive in front of them. “The first thing I want to say is that you are both the most wonderful daughters any mother could have ever had. I love you both very much. I know that you are sad right now, but I hope you will remember what a wonderful life we had together and go on to have meaningful lives of your own. I was blessed with a loving husband and two special children. If you let Him, the Lord will bless you both with an extraordinary life.

Now it’s time to tell you about something the Lord blessed me with in these past few years. I ask you to open your hearts and forgive me for not having shared this with you before.

When your father died, I was so devastated and angry that God had taken him so unexpectedly, I turned inside myself. You were both loving and concerned and tried to help me come out of my depression, but it was no use. My grief overtook me and I gave up on life. Neither of you knew how deep my despair was or that I was planning to take my own life.”

Allison stood up and shouted, “no!” She had no idea and was shocked at the revelation.

“Then,” Mary continued on the tape, “the Lord intervened.”

It was the end of October, many months after her husband died so suddenly and the leaves had already fallen from the trees. The air had grown cold, as the wind snapped at Mary McFarland’s face. She pulled her sweater up around her neck, wishing she had worn a jacket instead of the heavy wool sweater. Her hair pulled back and fastened with a metal clip and her ears stung with the cold.

As she walked across the parking lot of Bannister’s hardware on the outskirts of Maplewood, she regretted having left the house. Her depression had deepened every day, as she just couldn’t seem to reconcile her feelings about losing her beloved Patrick. No matter how hard she tried, she slipped deeper and deeper into a thick black melancholy. She knew that her daughter’s would be devastated if she took her life; a sin that would haunt them, forever. Every day she hung on for one more day, but it became, at first, difficult and then, impossible to pray. She knew that it was only a matter of time before she lost the battle and succumbed to the despair. It seemed as if God had abandoned her. After she purchased her light bulbs and left Bannister’s, she walked next store to the food market. Normally she shopped right in Maplewood, but these days she didn’t want to run into anyone she knew; so she would make the 20 minute drive to the edge of town, in hopes of shopping in obscurity.

As she left the market, she practically stumbled over a small child of 4 or 5 standing near the exit.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said to the disheveled little girl. When she took a closer look, she noticed that the poor little thing was barely clothed, wearing a tattered dress and torn

tights.

“Where is your mother?” Mary asked gently, as she bent down to the child. “Don’t know,” she said as her bottomed lip quivered with both the cold and fear. “Are you lost?”

“No. My mommy’s lost,” the child started to cry.

“Now, now. It’s ok. We’ll find her,” Mary said, as she took off her sweater and wrapped the little girl in it. “What’s you name?” she asked.

“Maggie,” she said, still crying.

“Maggie what?” Mary asked, assuming her mother couldn’t be far away. “Dunno,” she said.

“Did your mommy go in the store?” she asked, as she carried the little girl into the market, both to get warm and find her mother.

“No. She’s been lost for long time,” Maggie was sobbing now.

Mary stopped in her tracks. She realized that Maggie might not be lost; she might be abandoned. She went straight to the service desk and summoned the manager. Mr. Ralston first paged overhead for the little lost girl and then called the police when there was no response.

He brought Mary and Maggie into the market break room and heated a cup of noodle soup in the microwave. Mary declined any, but watched Maggie devour the warm noodles and drink the soup. Mary didn’t know when this little waif had eaten last. Her heart broke for Maggie. She prayed that her mother really had just lost her, for how could anyone just abandon their own sweet child.?

was

more likely that Maggie had been left by some desperate single mother than not. Nowadays, he saw things that would have been unheard of only ten years before.

After calling the station house, Sgt. Cory said he was to take the child to the Dept. of Social Services. They would take over and place her somewhere. Mary felt her heart break in two as Maggie threw her arms around her neck and hugged tight. “Bye, Mrs. Mary,” she called her.

“Can I go with you, Sgt. To help get her settled?” Mary pleaded.

Sgt. Cory agreed and was grateful for the help. He knew the little girl would be tough to handle alone. Mary sat with Maggie in the back of the police car, as he drove them to the Grove City Dept. of Social Services.

Nancy Grayson was the social worker who was assigned to Maggie’s case. She was a pleasant, though overworked woman in her early 40’s. She explained that there were more and more children coming in the system than it could handle. Grove City was relatively small for a city, but the poverty level was alarming. The local mill had closed down eight years before and left many unable to provide for their families. Some men sought work elsewhere, some gave up and abandoned their families completely. Others worked two jobs while their wives worked and tried to raise the family. All in all, things were grim for many in Grove City.

Mary McFarland had been relatively unaware of the conditions in Grove City. Grace Church had many fundraisers for local charities and they regularly collected for the poor, but she had never really stared the poor in the face before. And here was the face of a 4 year old with little more than the tattered dress on her back. She was suddenly filled with

fury and it sparked a fire

in her heart. How could she feel sorry for herself when their were children like Maggie, poor and alone? Mary felt ashamed that she had considered throwing God’s precious gift, her life, back in His face.

Maggie clung to Mary during the intake interview. Nancy Grayson said she had a temporary place for her with a kind older couple that could be trusted to care for Maggie until she could find permanent foster care. When Mary tried to leave, Maggie cried and grabbed her leg.

“Maggie, sweetheart. It is going to be okay. I promise you. I’m going to make sure of it,” Mary said, as she stroked the little girls tangled brown hair. After some convincing, Maggie took Nancy’s hand and left for her new temporary home.

Mary was silent as Sgt. Cory drove her back to her car, but her mind was racing. God had given her a purpose, a mission and she couldn’t wait to get started.

The very next morning after a brisk shower, she went to call on Pastor Henry. She thought he would be the likely starting place.

Jack Henry was pleased to see Mary. Since Patrick’s death, she had become more and more distant and even Ruth couldn’t draw her out. And Ruth could usually cheer even the most maudlin of souls.

“Pastor, I need you to pray for me,” she requested.

“Of course. What is the difficulty?” he asked. He was surprised at her answer. “I believe God has shown me that he wants me to enter the mission field,” she said, eagerly.

God’s

wisdom. He did however question man’s. In his experience, rash decisions in the name of “service” were made, particularly after traumatic life occurrences. Mary was wise to come and ask for prayer, so they could come before the Lord and request His guidance. Jack supposed that it was possible for God to call her to the mission fields of Bora Bora or Venezuela, but it could also be a misguided thought on Mary’s part, born out of her despair.

When she told him about Grove City, he just shook his head. He had made visits there himself to bring contributions to the local shelter and food bank. He was well aware of the situations there and a portion of their mission budget always went to local needs. But the story Mary relayed touched his heart.

“Pastor, Patrick left me a very large inheritance, too much for my needs, even in the future. My girls are both doing well and won’t need all that money when I’m gone someday. I believe God is calling me to do something special with it. I believe He wants me to provide a place for children like Maggie and their mothers, so they don’t have be abandoned. Maybe Maggie’s mother just felt so desperate that she didn’t know what else to do. Maybe if there was a place they could live until they got on their feet. Maybe…” she went on.

Pastor closed his eyes and prayed as she talked. He felt a great peace and heard the words, no greater love have you, than for your brother, echo in his head. It was Mary’s confirmation. Yes, he believed it was God’s will for her and Grove City. They opened their bibles and searched scripture together until they knew that Mary was headed in a direction towards God’s purpose.

Jack knew it was going to be a huge undertaking and advised her to speak with Earl Henderson to discuss the legal details. Then he gave her the name of Warren Newbury, pastor

of New Hope Church in Grove City. Warren worked with the local shelter and was well- acquainted with the ins and outs of the social service system.

“One more thing Pastor,” she said before she left. “Absolutely nobody is to know about this. Not my daughters, not Ruth…nobody.” By the tone in her voice he knew she was serious.

“But Mary, why? You’re going to need help and surely…”

“No. This must be something that I do anonymously. I will get help in Grove City, but there must be no mention of this here.” She was adamant. “You must promise me that you will never tell anyone, not even my daughters. They will find out someday, after I am gone.”

Jack didn’t understand, but he agreed to comply with her wish.

Mary got started right away. Scott Randolph from Granville Realty helped her find a large Victorian house that needed only cosmetic remodeling. Structurally, it had 8 bedrooms and 4 bathrooms. The huge, recently remodeled kitchen housed a dormitory sized wooden table that would be plenty big enough to seat 18 to 20 for their meals. On the first floor, there was a library that would double as a playroom for the children and an old-fashioned parlor that would serve as a gathering area for the women, after the

children were put to bed for the night.

picked out for all the rooms. She wanted it to be a cheerful, welcoming home; a home that would help unfortunate women and their children to feel safe and hopeful. She would stock the library shelves with positive, uplifting books and of course, many copies of the Holy Bible. There

would be no preaching, but God’s presence would be evident.

Mary found a young woman of 26 to act as house manager. Her name was Maxine Stratton. She was in need of a good job and when Mary interviewed her, she was so impressed with the girls maturity that she hired her on the spot. Mary McFarland was always a great judge of character and she hadn’t gone wrong with Maxine. Right from the start, Maxine made Angel House, as Mary named it, a welcoming and well-run home. Six of the eight bedrooms in the house had been filled within the first 3 weeks. The seventh was vacant and the last was kept in reserve for any emergency situation that might arise. It was just before the end of the first month when Nancy Grayson called her from DSS.

“Mary, you won’t believe it. We found Maggie’s mother!”

“You’re kidding. How? Where?” Mary asked, eagerly. Ever since Maggie came into her life, she visited the little girl several times a week. The Irelands were a lovely couple in their 50’s who had raised three sons and now took in foster children on a temporary basis, until they could be placed long term. Once Maggie settled in, she looked at them as