The Arrival
by: Will B.
© 2008 by the Author

Encouraged by that Ed, that wonderful Elf!

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It was Christmas Eve 2000.  At Broadway Presbyterian Church. Tim Heckman was making sure that the plans for the 7:00 Christmas Eve service were all in order.

Tim Heckman, 38, had been married since 1989 to his wife Linda Fell Heckman, now 37. The couple had two children: Susie, 9, and Johnny, 7. After graduating seminary and being ordained, Tim had accepted a call to the Broadway Presbyterian Church which was located in East Baltimore a few blocks from The Johns Hopkins Hospital.  In the opposite direction, a few blocks, was an ‘adult entertainment’ zone.

The Heckmans lived in a three-story manse that adjoined the church which was an old Victorian-Gothic structure that needed some repairs. Tim had worked long and hard to repair the most important part of the church – the congregation. In this, he had the full support of his wife Linda.

To digress for a moment:  some years ago Tim’s fiancée, Linda Fell, and her mother and grandmother had been talking about Tim. Linda’s mother, Martha Bond Fell, said, “Oh, Tim's a fine young man, but going into the ministry? What kind of career is that for a bright young man? He could go into business and,  perhaps, make a lot of money as, oh say, an investment counselor. There’s a good future in that!”

Linda’s grandmother, Victoria Dorsey Bond, a white-haired lady who resembled her august imperial namesake in more ways than one, spoke up, “Now, Martha, you and I are more than comfortably well-off, and I don’t know that all that money had made us particularly happy. You know how devastated I was when my dear Albert died. I wouldn’t even go out shopping. I just wanted to stay home and sulk with the blinds drawn.”

“Well, Mother, you’re right about money, but . . .”

The old lady tapped her cane on the floor and said, “No buts about it, Martha. Your money didn’t help when your husband, Edward  . . . “

“All right, Mother, we don’t need to bring him into it.”

Victoria continued, “I say, that if Tim goes into the ministry, as he is planning to do, he has my full support, and Linda, I think you are making a very wise choice. So, pay attention to your old Granny. Marry him, love him, support him, and I think you will never regret it at all.”

“Yes, Grandmother; thank you,” Linda said. She got up and gave her grandmother a hug.

So Linda married Tim, and if they sometimes had problems, and who doesn’t, they always had joy. Tim accepted the call to Broadway Presbyterian, and Linda bore the two children, and she often thought, “Grandmother was right. I haven’t regretted a single day of this.”

 So, with the support of his wife and her family, Tim set about his job. He preached sermons about God’s love and forgiveness; he never preached ‘hellfire and damnation’ sermons, as some of the so-called ‘popular’ tele-evangelists of the day did. He counseled people who came to him with problems. He established a program of after-school activities for the young people of the neighborhood and arranged for young people to go to games at the new stadium; if anyone had a serious problem, he knew where to direct them for help.

Yes, he was able to do some of these things because Linda’s grandmother quietly gave considerable financial support to the Church, and she encouraged some of her friends to interest themselves in these activities.

One other thing, Tim had managed to do:  he called and visited other ministers of churches in the area, and they established a ‘ministerium,’ a place where the ministers could meet to discuss problems and possible solutions and enjoy some pastoral fellowship. Because of this network of pastors, the 7:00 Christmas Eve service was a service for the children, and the ministers would all participate and invite their congregations to attend.  Thus it was that Father Murphy of the nearby St. Agnes Catholic Church would still have his midnight mass, but at 7:00 he would be taking part in the service at Broadway Presbyterian. Archbishop Keeler had told him it was all right!

This year the service would be at ‘Broadway Pres.’ After the service of lessons and carols, there would be a party for the children (and their parents) in the basement, and who knows? Perhaps a jolly figure in a red velvet suit with white fur trimming just might be there.

“Are you all ready for tonight, sweetheart?” Linda asked.

“I am,” said Tim. “Rosa di Lombardi is coordinating the catering, and Taco will open the service by singing the first verse of ‘Once in Royal David’s City,’”

“Taco must be ten years old now,” Linda surmised.

“Yes, and I am so glad that Tony and Rosa were able to adopt him and Pedro. They’re really a rainbow family,” Tim smiled. “After Taco sings the first verse, the rest of the choir will sing the next verse as the clergy process in, and everyone will sing the third and fourth verses.”

 “I love that hymn, “ Linda said. “I’ve loved it ever since I heard the Christmas Eve broadcast of ‘A Service of Lessons and Carols’ from King’s College, Cambridge.”

“I love it, too,” Tim said. “I’m just a little worried about Gertie Himmelfarb. She doesn’t come to the service, but she always plays Santa Claus. She loves the kids and they love her.”

”Well, what’s wrong then,” Linda asked.

“Her son Abe called me and said she wasn’t feeling too ‘kosher,’ but he was pretty sure she would be there.”

Tim kissed his wife and got ready to go over to the church.

Before he left, he hugged his two children and asked them if they had their ‘elf hats’ to put on at the party. “Of course, Dad,” nine-year old Susie said, as if wondering how her father could ever doubt that she would be less than perfect. Seven-year-old Johnnie fisted his father and said, “I’m on it, dad.”

 The service started as planned, and after the opening hymn and the Call to worship, Pastor Augsberger of Orleans Street Lutheran walked to the pulpit and read:

“St. Luke 2: verses 1-5. And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed. And this taxing was first made when Cyrenius was governor of Syria. And all went to be taxed, every one into his own city. And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judaea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem (because he was of the house and lineage of David) to be taxed with Mary his espoused wife, being great with child.”

Two miles away, an old station wagon containing two people was heading into Baltimore on Eastern Avenue. Seph Jones, 30, and his wife Ria, 22, were hoping they would make it to the Hospital in time. Ria was in what used to be called ‘an interesting condition,’ and her pains had started.

“Seph, will you be able to find work?”

“Ria, I’ll get a job even if I have to sweep floors and clean toilets. We’ll be all right.”

Suddenly, Ria gave a cry. “Oh, Seph, hurry. I’m afraid the baby will come any minute!” Ria said.

“I know Ria, but this car just won’t go any faster,” her husband said.

As the car turned north onto Broadway, the engine began to cough and the car moved slower and slower. Seph was just able to pull it onto a vacant lot and it stopped.

“Seph, my water’s broken.”

“I’ll go see if I can get help.”

“No, no. I want you with me. Don’t leave me.”

“All right, my love. Look, I’m going to lower the seats so that you can lie back. The only things in the trunk are our suitcases.”

Seph quickly arranged his wife so that she would be as comfortable as possible.

While Ria’s pains began to come more quickly, the back door of a gay bar opened, and two male pole dancers came out. Although the night was cold, they were so overheated from their exertions that they were bare-chested.

As they approached the station wagon, Jimmy, one of the dancers said to his boi-friend,” Listen, Timmy, do you hear what I hear?”

“Yes, I do, Jimmy. It’s a woman crying out. It’s coming from this alley.”

At the church, Pastor John Davis of Fells Point Baptist went to the pulpit and read: “St. Luke 2, 6-7.  And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered, and she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.”

The two approached the car, and were shocked to see a woman in the throes of childbirth,

”Jim, go out on the main street and see if you can flag down a police car.”

Tim turned and ran down to the alley to the back door of a restaurant owned by one Nicholas Aristophanes. Tim banged on the door and it was opened by the proprietor’s wife Sophia.

“Sophia, come quick. There’s a woman in a car down the alley, and I think . . I think she’s having a baby, and  . . . I think I’m gonna be sick!”

“Oh, you men!” Sophia cried and she ran to get clean towels, a bowl of hot water, and a knife.  “Bring some more hot water, and tell Nick to bring some water.”

Sophia ran down the alley to help the poor woman.

Pastor Wesley Jones of South Broadway Methodist had taken his place in the pulpit of the Church, and had been reading from St. Luke, 2:15, 16: "…  the shepherds said one to another, Let us now go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing which is come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us. And they came with haste, and found Mary, and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger.”

When Sophia got to the car she found the baby’s head emerging. She helped bring the baby into the world, and washed the tiny infant. She used the knife to cut the umbilical cord, and wrapped the child in some clean towels and laid the baby in the mother’s arms.

“My dear, you have a fine healthy happy baby boy. Sir, congratulations on your son.”

At that moment the choir began Handel’s mighty glorious chorus, “For Unto us a Son is Born.”

On Broadway, Jim had flagged down a police car. Officers Al Johnson and Mark Taylor ran down the alley, took in the events and radioed for an ambulance. 

While they were waiting, Nicholas Aristophanes had been talking to Seph.  “Yes, my friend, I have a little apartment over my restaurant, and I can use a good man to help me in my restaurant. I see the ambulance is approaching. You go with your wife and I will see that your car is moved to a safe place and we’ll get it fixed.”

Seph could not say a word, the tears were streaming down his face, and Nicholas just took him into a hug. Sophia was watching over Ria, who had fallen into a sleep.

As church was letting out, the worshippers noticed the police car across the street, and saw the ambulance pull up. Pastor Tim ran across the street to see if he could be of any assistance, and learned of the young family’s situation. He was quickly joined by Doctors Mac and Buddy, who said they would go up to the hospital and see what they could do.

The ambulance pulled away with Seph, Ria and the baby. Our doctor friends got in their car to go to the hospital, and Al and Steve got back in their car.

“Nicholas and Sophia,” Tim said, “I have some money in my discretionary fund, and you are going to need to get some furniture and linens for the young people. I’ll see that you have a check first thing the day after Christmas.”

“No, my friend, you don’t have to ...,” Nicholas began.

“Nicholas, we have had a birth, we have people come to help and rejoice, we have had wise men and women, and you will let me bring a gift. Please!”

“OK, Pastor. When you bring the check, we will drink a glass of ouzo and toast the child’s birth.”

“Deal, Nicholas. You know that in Scotland, that’s called ‘wetting the baby’s head’.”

Sophia said to Jim, “You come back to my restaurant and get your friend. I’ll give you some coffee, and I think we may have some baklava.”

Nicholas, Sophia, and Jimmy went back to the restaurant, and Tim went back to the church, where the children’s party was going on in the basement. He called all the clergy together, and told them what happened.

Father Murphy said, “I’ll bring a contribution too, and drink that toast too.”

The other clergy said they would be there also, and Pastor Jones said to Pastor Davis, “I’ll bring some sparkling cider, if you like.”

John Davis said to Wesley Jones, “Well, Wesley, that’s nice, but I think this has been such a wonderful event, that maybe just ONE glass of ouzo won’t hurt.”

“You know, John, I think that’s a good idea,” Wesley Jones said.

Tim looked around for Gertie, and he was beginning to worry a little.  He wondered if he should call her son, when in the door came a familiar figure in her motorized scooter.

“Oi vey! Dollings, I’m sorry I’m late, but such traffic you wouldn’t believe! Police cars and ambulances. I wonder what happened?” Gertie Himmelfarb took off her coat, and came over to Tim and Linda, and gave them each a hug.

And so, the party got under way. At one end of the church hall, ‘Santa’ was wearing a red suit and sitting in a wheel chair, giving out bags of cookies and candy to all the good boys and girls, and of course on this night, they were ALL good. Susie and Johnny Heckman, wearing elf hats were helping Santa.

At the other end, Rosa Lombardi and the women from several churches were setting out the refreshments – cake, ice cream, punch, cookies, candy: everything that would get the children so full of energy they would probably never get to sleep that night. But, hey!  It was Christmas Eve.

Tim went over to Linda and told her what had happened, and she told Rosa, and Rosa told the other ladies what had happened. They all decided to organize a baby shower for the little one.

Linda whispered to Tim, “Look at ‘Santa.” I think Gertie Himmelfarb is doing a wonderful job.”

Tim replied, “She always does. Even in a wheelchair she makes a great Santa.”

The party was winding down, and ‘Santa’ waved a final goodbye, and Johnny and Susie rolled her out the front door of the church hall.

At 9:30, the congregations, pastors, doctors, policemen, dancers, restaurant owners, were all in their homes getting ready to lie snug in their beds, while visions of newborn babies, happy mothers, and deeply grateful fathers danced in their heads. Tim and Linda were sitting in their living room. Susie and Johnny were getting ready to climb the steps to bed, and they were yawning. Sleep wouldn’t be long in coming for them!

The phone rang in the other room and Tim went to answer it. He came back looking as if he had seen a ghost.

“What’s wrong, dear,” Linda asked.

“That was Abe Himmelfarb. He called to tell me that Gertie collapsed and died at 7:30 this evening.”

“That’s too bad! She was a dear,” Linda said, and then it hit her. “Then who . . .? What? I don’t know. . .”

Just then a bell high up in the manse began to chime.

Johnny piped up, “Listen Mom, Dad, Miss Gardner, our Sunday School teacher, says that whenever a bell rings an angel gets his or her wings. Is that true? And . . . Mommy, Daddy, are you crying?”

Tim replied, “I think it IS true, Johnny, and yes, we are crying a little, but they are tears partly of sadness, and partly of happiness.”

Susie put her two cents in, “Mom and dad, why don’t you sit down and relax and eat some of the cookies we were going to leave out for ‘Santa.’ You’ve had a tiring day.”

Linda and Tim responded almost in unison, “No, Susie, we have had a tiring day, but all-in-all, it IS a wonderful life!”

The End.

Feedback always welcome.    

Author's Note: A tip of the hat to Saint Luke, George Frederick Handel, Clement Moore, Charles Dickens, Frank Kapra, Jimmy Stewart, Donna Reed,  those wonderful people who contributed to this story. And to my faithful readers, and my friends and co-authors at Tickie's, and especially my web master, Chuck, my buddy Chris, and my ‘encourager,’ Ed, I say “God Bless You, God Bless you, Everyone! With best wishes for a beautiful holiday, Merry Christmas and a Happy and Prosperous New Year.”

Encourager’s note:  When the Will sent me this chapter he said I was going to need tissues.  Boy was he right.  This story covers the entire spectrum of life from birth to death with stops in between. E

Posted: 12/12/08