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“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.” “Um...” “Do you need anything?” “Oh, no. It’s just, um... It’s warm in here.” “Yes it is.” “But I miss the candles.” “Candles?” “Catholic churches always have lotsa candles. But you don’t see many in some other churches. I don’t know why that is.” “So you’re Catholic?” “Oh well no. Not really. I’m sort of... multi-denominational.” “I rather like that.” “I just go, you know, where it’s warm.” “Like here.” “Yes. Houses of worship are always warm it seems. All of them. The many different kinds.” “Where else have you been?” “Oh, um... Lots of places. Buddhist temples, Hindu temples, mosques, synagogues, monasteries...” “Which did you like the best?” “All of them. I like the quiet. They all share that. I went to a Quaker meeting house once. Their service was very calm. No one said anything. Everyone sat there, praying and listening. I kind of liked that. Except I kept thinking that someone might accidentally burst out laughing and break the spell.” 
“That happens here sometimes, actually.”“The places I’ve gone have all been very accommodating. So it’s...whoever will have me.” “Well, you’re welcome here anytime.” “Thank you.” “What’s your name?” “Jessica. But you can just call me Jessi.” “Hello, Jessi. I’m Reverend Luke. I came here to uh... Well, I had to work on my sermon. It’s Christmas Eve and I haven’t written my Christmas sermon yet. It’s a little worrying.” “So you have a dilemma of sorts.” “Yes. And to solve it I’ve been wandering a bit.” “Wandering is good for solving dilemmas.” “Last night I went walking around the neighborhood looking at all the lights.” “The Christmas glow.” “Yes.” “It smells nice too, doesn’t it?” “Yes. Why does it smell different? I’ve never been able to figure that out.” “It could be all the wreaths and garlands. The scent of Christmas.” “Maybe that’s it.” “I like seeing lighted Christmas trees in front windows.” “I saw a few of those. But even though it was a beautiful night I still couldn’t think of a sermon. I did get to say hello to a few folks who were out, though.” “Do you ever go to shopping malls, Reverend Luke?” “Not very often.” “I like to go a day or two before Christmas.” “Isn’t it just insane then?” “Oh well, yes. But it’s a blissful sort of insanity. At first you think it’s all just about crazy spending and presents. Then you realize that it’s really all these people doing something for each other. Or thinking that’s what they’re doing anyway.” “Ah, but I don’t think I’ll be able to find my sermon in a shopping mall crowd.” “So you came here instead.” “Yes.” “It would be prettier with candles.” “Yes, I guess it would. We’ll have some tonight and tomorrow. We just don’t burn them all the time.” “When I need some inspiration I always go to a cathedral.” “Grand places. But I’m afraid we don’t have one of those.” “Oh well then you must find one. For me there are lotsa cathedrals. The Golden Gate Bridge. Stonehenge. You can make anything a cathedral, anything grand like you said. Like a valley or a canyon. Just sit there and be Quaker-like or Buddhist-like. And it’s ok if you burst out laughing.” “Why did you choose this little church, then? It’s not so grand as a canyon or Stonehenge.” “I thought maybe it’s what lonely people might do on Christmas Eve. So I came here looking for, um...” “Are you homeless?” “Oh, no. Thought I might find someone, though.” “Someone?” “I was wandering one day just last week. Like you in the Christmas glow. Just wandering. And I came upon a man under a bridge. His wheelchair had toppled and he was laying on the sidewalk. He had no legs. He was very dirty. People kept passing him by. No one would help him. So I righted his chair. I wanted to help him back into it, but he insisted he could do it himself. He was very stubborn, and very strong. Then I helped him pick up his things. Everything had spilled around him. I thought I had gotten everything, but he pointed to something in the snow. It was a half-filled bottle of gin. I told him he didn’t really need it, but he assured me he did. To ease the pain, he said. Then he thanked me and rolled away down the sidewalk.” “That was a nice thing you did.” “It was the only thing anyone could do. But people kept passing him by. I kept wondering about them. In such hurries. To the mall, maybe. To help people they know. Instead of dirty strangers.” “So you came here to look for him?” “I don’t know where they go. Do you?” “Shelters and missions...” “But I thought on Christmas Eve I might find him in a place like this.” “Where it’s warm.” “Yes.” “But no candles.” “Um, yes. No candles. Pretty, though. Look at the colors of the windows. Almost a cathedral.” “Can I use your story, Jessi? For my sermon tomorrow?” “Of course you can, Reverend Luke.” “Thank you, Jessi. If you find your friend give him my regards.” “I’ll let him know that he has become the subject of a sermon in a grand yet humble church with very few candles.” “But a warm church, still.” “Very warm.” “Where are you from, Jessi? Who are you?” “Oh um. I’m just a wanderer. Like you.” text © 2004 Joe Beine [Contact] illustration © 2004 Lynne Cuthrell Paper Angels Book Information Main Page | Christmas | Light | Stories | Genealogy | Photography |