Lessons from a Turkey Leg

by Donna Poole

Emma, the old pastor’s wife, woke in the middle of the night and opened the wrong door. Confused, she stood staring at the family room, the living room, and the Christmas tree.

Why is the Christmas tree in the bathroom? Wait. Where’s the bathroom?

She shook her head to clear it, closed the door, and opened it again—the same door. She remembered one definition of insanity, “repeating the same thing and expecting different results.” But she wasn’t out of her mind, not quite yet, just tired, so tired. She rubbed her eyes, turned around and saw it. Relieved, she headed for the right door. The bathroom hadn’t disappeared after all.

Back in bed, cuddled under her many blankets, and snuggled next to her softly snoring husband, Emma couldn’t quite wake up, but neither could she drift back into sleep. It was almost Christmas.

Christmas! Her mind wandered off to years gone by and a gift never forgotten.

They’d been young then, she and her husband, and not yet in the ministry. They’d spent a year before they’d gone to their country church as pastor and wife absorbing all they could from Tom and Becky, a young pastor and wife at a thriving church on the outskirts of an Indiana town. And they’d learned a lot.

James had worked full time at American Motors and served as a deacon and a department Sunday school superintendent.

Emma had plunged into every opportunity available for service, and surprisingly, even in that large church, there were many holes to be filled. She taught Sunday school, children’s church, and helped in the nursery. Months went by without her hearing a single sermon.

Finally, she timidly approached Pastor Tom and asked if anything could be done about her workload. He laughed.

“Sure! I’ll find someone to cover something for you. But remember, around here, we only grease the wheels that squeak.”

She filed that thought away for future reference. Around here we only grease the wheels that squeak.  

Emma and Becky, the pastor’s wife, became good friends. They both liked to have fun, perhaps a bit too much fun, at least in the eyes of some of the stern older church ladies.

Missionary group was, how shall we put it nicely? Missionary group was dull; there is no nicer word. Emma suggested to Becky they liven things up a bit with a skit, and they enjoyed writing and performing it. In the skit they dressed as two impoverished, elderly, worn-out missionaries and acted the part complete with shuffling walk and quavering voices. They particularly enjoyed two lines they said to each other:

“You poor dear, what is that on your sneaker?”

“Oh, please excuse me. I have dysentery.”

They barely managed the lines without giggling.

Later, Becky told Emma with a sigh the stern older church ladies had not shared their amusement. They’d said the skit had been inappropriate and they hoped in the future Becky would show more decorum.

“No one said a word to me,” Emma replied.

“They wouldn’t,” Becky said. She tapped her chest. “When you’re the pastor’s wife, the buck stops here.”

Emma filed that away for future reference. When you’re the pastor’s wife, the buck stops here.

Quite a few families with money attended the church so Emma and her husband James were surprised to see Tom and Becky’s home with its threadbare carpet and sparse furnishings. They were even more surprised to discover the church paid their young pastor a meager wage, not that Tom ever complained, but it wasn’t too hard to figure it out.

The four of them sometimes enjoyed a meal together at Tom and Becky’s. They shared a turkey leg and a can of vegetables. The first time the turkey leg was a bit tough.

“I should have cooked it longer,” Becky said. “Next time I will.”

“Do you eat turkey legs often?” Emma asked.

Tom and Becky looked at each other and laughed.

“We do when we can afford them,” Becky said. “Sometimes you can get them on sale for nineteen cents a pound. And a big one makes a couple of meals.”

There was no apology for the meager meal and no dessert. There was just love, laughter, and fun around the table. It was a gift of hospitality never forgotten.

Share what you have and serve it with love and laughter. Emma filed that thought away for future reference.

The year passed quickly. The two couples hugged goodbye, and James and Emma went off to begin their ministry in a little church on the corner of two dirt roads. Emma’s favorite thing was to fill their home with family and friends, love and laughter. She never served a turkey leg, but she sometimes made a third of a pound of hamburger into a casserole that fed many. She discovered that a few loaves of homemade bread still warm from the oven go a long way toward covering a multitude of sins in the culinary department.

The years at the little church passed quickly also, too quickly. Emma calculated in her head, whispering so she didn’t wake James. Could it be? Yes. This was their fifty-fifth Christmas as a married couple and their fiftieth at the church they both loved so much.

Memories flooded in of the many meals she’d served over the years. Some had been large and lavish; some had been sweet and simple, but all had been served with love. And after each group of family or friends had left, and she’d crawled into bed tired and happy, she’d imagined she’d heard the Lord saying, “Thank you for a wonderful meal, Emma. I really enjoyed that.”

A tear trickled down her cheek. Cancer treatments had kept her immunocompromised for a few years. She was only allowed to invite family for meals, no more large groups of friends. She remembered years gone by when she’d invited everyone from their little church to come enjoy a meal around Christmas time, but once again, that couldn’t happen this year.

“Maybe next year,” she whispered to herself. “Let’s see. I’ve done Italian, Mexican, soups and sandwiches. If I can ever have my big Christmas party again, maybe I’ll serve turkey legs!”

And she fell asleep with a laugh, a hope, and a dream.

The end

***

These blogs are now available in book form on Amazon:

Backroad Ramblings Volume One: Stories of Faith, Love, and Laughter

Backroad Ramblings Volume Two: Stories of Faith, Love, and Laughter

Backroad Ramblings Volume Three: Stories of Faith, Love, and Laughter

I have six other books on Amazon as well, four fiction books in the “Life at the Corners” series, and two children’s Christmas picture books.

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