Ethel's Amazing Umbrella Conclusion

We're going to Eureka today so I covet your prayers. I just woke Dad up and he said that the snow plows are opening up Eureka to traffic already, although all of the churches in town have cancelled their services this morning. We need to go today as Robert will start trucking again tomorrow. He and Andrew are going out now with the 9030s to start the process of cleaning out the yard so that we can get out of here with the van. That statement made me realize that I'd best get outside now to get some pictures of the snowbanks that have blocked all but tractor movement here on our farm. I'll post them later.

Here's the conclusion of the story. I hope that you all enjoyed it!

Hugs,

Dawn

PS. I'll post the rest of my birthday pictures tomorrow.

CONCLUSION

The sun finally rose in Forest Grove on Christmas morning, but it's rays of sunshine seemed to be too little too late. A town encased in ice and snow, paralyzed by the loss of electricity and telephones, seemed almost afraid to admit it was Christmas.
The church house was certainly not full that Christmas morning. Though the heat and lights returned just minutes before the service was to begin, the inside of the church still felt like a frozen grave. And as word about Grandpa Billy began to be whispered around, a hushed kind of mourning began to replace the usually festive Christmas scene.
Just as the organ began to play some rather sour notes (Melba was a little less than accurate with her gloves on), through the side door came Ethel Simpson. Every hair was in place. Her face was serene and composed. She sat down on the front row, next to where Melba would sit when she had finished chipping away the ice cubes in the organ. As Melba watched Ethel out of the corner of her eye, she was overwhelmed at the peace Ethel seemed to have. Either she hadn't heard the news, or her umbrella was a lot tougher than anyone thought. As Pastor Thompson stood up and made the announcement about Billy, it was obvious that Ethel was not surprised. She knew.
The song service was subdued, but still a bit long. Then several deacons stopped and prayed for Billy and Ethel, mostly for Ethel, that she would have the grace to stand under the load. Then Pastor Thompson stood up to preach, and Melba slipped into the seat by her grieving, but composed best friend.
"You seem to be at peace," Melba whispered, as she slipped her hand in Ethel's for comfort. "I traded umbrellas last night," Ethel whispered back, "Jesus is my umbrella now."
"Yippee!!" the usually subdued Melba shouted at the top of her voice, sending the poor pastor who was trying to be somber into such a state of shock, he almost fell head first out of the pulpit.
All eyes were now on Melba, whose face had just acquired a sunburn seldom seen in the frozen north. But before she had a chance to explain, in the side door came a bedraggled Tim O'Reilly, his uniform smeared with mud and his eyes obviously red from crying. He walked directly to where Ethel was sitting, and without looking in her eyes, said, "Mrs. Simpson, you're needed at the hospital right away, please. They've . . . . . uh . . . . . found your husband." With that, he wheeled around, and literally ran through the door, apologizing for interrupting the service.
It took Ethel seven minutes to navigate the icy trail between the church and the emergency room of Forest Grove Memorial Hospital. She prayed the whole way, thanking God that He would give her the grace to endure. Soon, her one-eyed Rambler rounded the corner and pulled up to those big double doors, just behind a huge ambulance that was marked, "Marble Creek EMS". Fearfully, yet resigned to God's will, she slipped out of the car, and watched as they carried the stretchers of the injured into the hospital. One by one she watched them. Still no Billy.
Finally, two men went in and brought out the last one. All she could see from where she was standing was an ominous white sheet that seemed to signify the worst.
As they brought Billy's lifeless body from the ambulance, Ethel ran to his side, and bending over him, whispered, "Oh, Billy, if only you could've known. I've got a brand new umbrella, Billy. I asked your Jesus to come into my heart. Oh, Billy, I'll still see you some day. . . . I'm a Christian now!"
Ethel stood, nearly motionless, weeping, by the body of her husband of 41 years. As she turned to walk away, a voice behind her spoke, "Happy Birthday, Ethel. Welcome to the family!"
Ethel wheeled around to see who it was that had followed her to the hospital that might be speaking. She looked, but there was no one in sight.
Then she looked down at Grandpa Billy one more time. One eye opened, then closed, as if he were mischieviously winking his eye at his best girl (which he was).
"Happy Birthday, Ethel," Grandpa whispered again, as the old man finally began to regain consciousness. For seven hours he had held on at the edge of a frozen lake, hanging on to a tree limb for his life, singing hymns of praise to his Jesus, until finally he had lapsed into an unconscious state, somehow miraculously without letting go of that limb.
Tears of grief turned to tears of joy as Ethel Simpson, 61 years old in this world, and less than 12 hours old in Jesus, began to sing and to praise her new-found Lord for what He had done. Billy Simpson got so excited listening, he sat bolt upright on the stretcher, and, using all the strength he had, shouted, "My Ethel's got a new umbrella!" The folks in the emergency room didn't quite understand why a new umbrella deserved that kind of recognition. . . . but we understand, don't we?
Now, if you thought they had birthday celebrations at Grandpa Billy's place before, you won't believe the likes of what goes on at Christmas now. A brand new banner has been added that reads, "Happy Birthday Ethel," and instead of hidin' in the back with the cookies and cake, Grandma Ethel Simpson is the first one up on that make-shift platform Christmas day to give her testimony. And Christmas day isn't the only day she gives her testimony.
Why, if you drive up to Forest Grove tomorrow, and stop in at Grandpa Billy's Drug Store, you can just bank on the fact that as soon as you walk in, one kindly old gentleman, now with a little of a limp, but with no less of a smile, will still greet you, and point to that seemingly invincible coffee pot in the corner, where he'll proceed to ask you if you happen to know a friend of his, whose name is Jesus.
The difference today is, should you hesitate to meet his friend, he'll just send you over to the drug counter, where a beaming Ethel Simpson waits to take over where he left off.
By the way, on the counter, just in front of her, is a twelve-inch cardboard replica of an umbrella. And neatly printed on it are the words, "Ask me about my amazing umbrella."
I just dare you to ask!

© Russell Kelfer. All rights reserved.10602 Mossbank, San Antonio, TX 78230
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