From Curiosity.........

A short story

Please bear in mind that this was written in the early 1980s when I was going to a far more traditional church and  had not travelled quite so far on my own splritual journey.

Have you ever wondered why people do the things that they do?

Every Sunday morning I used to sit at my front room window, watching the people pass by. Opposite my house is a church and, as I watched the people, I used to see many of them going into the church for the morning service.

My neighbour next door, Jane, was a widow in her mid thirties. Four years ago her father died suddenly from a heart attack and her mother followed three months later, [the old couple were very devoted]. Two years ago John, Jane's husband, was killed in a motor accident, leaving her to bring up their two children, Ruth aged 12 and Andrew aged 8.

I often used to see them all walking across to the church, a nice little family group going to Sunday worship, but thought no more of it, not being a churchgoer myself.

When I saw Jane and the children going across on the first Sunday after John was killed I was shaken out of my complacency; "How could a person who has had so much tragedy as she has in the past couple of years, (both her parents lost and her husband taken in the prime of his life), still believe in a loving, caring, God?" I reasoned.

As the weeks passed by; Jane, Ruth and Andrew didn't show any signs of dropping off with their church attendance and what began as mild curiosity was now intriguing me more and more. Jane certainly didn't look bitter, she chatted to the neighbours and, after the initial shock, was cheerful and, strange as it may seem, she appeared to have a contented look about her. After about eight months my curiosity got the better of me; I determined to find out why she went to church to worship a God who had allowed her to suffer so much.

When John was alive he had been a good neighbour. We didn't live in each other's pockets but we often worked together on joint projects such as house painting or garden fencing, and we'd chat over the garden fence as neighbours usually do. When John died it seemed a friendly gesture to offer to see the children in from school. Jane would collect them at around 6.pm. on her return from her job as a hairdresser. This was possible because I am self employed and work from home, so my hours are fairly flexible. I decided that next Monday, when Jane came to collect the children, I would invite her in for a coffee and try to find out why she continued to go to church.

Monday came and Jane arrived at 6.15 to take Ruth and Andrew home, she thanked me for looking after them, as she always did.

"Jane", I said, "Will you come in for a cup of coffee sometime, there's something I'd like to discuss with you."

Jane paused and then said, "Would you mind coming to my house instead? I don't like leaving the children in the house alone, especially at night."

It was agreed that I should go next door for a coffee the next evening at 8.30. I had no idea what I was going to say when I got there.

Next evening I went round to see Jane at the arranged time. When she brought in the coffee and some biscuits, I could see that she was inquisitive as to why I had asked to see her; Her first question was;

"Is there anything wrong? Have the children been misbehaving?"  

I should have realised she'd worry about that and put her mind at rest about it yesterday.

"No, it has nothing to do with the children. I don't quite know how to put this; You will probably think this question is very impertinent." I said, getting very hot under the collar!

"You're not going to propose to me are you?" she quipped.

By this time I was very flushed, "No, of course not." I then managed to muster some of my old bravado, "If I did consider proposing to anyone, I couldn't think of a nicer person!"

"Flattery will get you everywhere!" she laughed.
 

This short exchange of banter defused the atmosphere and, more relaxed, I started again, "There is no easy way around this, I shall have to ask you outright."

I explained to her how I had seen them all going to church each Sunday, and of my surprise when they continued to go after John had died. "How can you believe in God after all you have been through? If God really exists, why would he make one person suffer as much as you have?"

"Hold on a minute!", she said, "I lost my Father, Mother and John, all suddenly and all within two years of one-another; It was a big shock, there's no doubt about that but I'm not the only person on this Earth to suffer. Have you seen some of the terrible things that are going on all over the World, either because of man's greed or his wish to enforce his will on others. You only have to look across the Irish Sea to see a prime example. There are enough pictures on the news every night; and yet it took my troubles which, by comparison, are insignificant, to start you questioning God."

"Yes, but it seems to come home to you more when it happens on your own doorstep," I said lamely.

"Listen," said Jane, "When John was killed I wanted to die too. My whole world collapsed. It would have been very easy for me to give up and let myself go. I nearly lost my mind; The first two days were a private hell, I didn't know whether I was coming or going; I didn't eat; I just sat around all day without saying a word. I went to bed on the second night and I was so desperate that all I could pray was, God help me, over and over again. Next morning I woke, still suspended in this dreadful lethargy but I decided that I had better make an effort for the sake of the children. Ruth was very good; I had got up with the intention of giving the children what comfort I could. I thought that I was putting on a brave face until Ruth said, We shall miss Daddy, won't we Mummy. At this I just broke down. She said, Don't cry Mummy, Daddy is with Jesus now, and she was trying not to cry herself, saying the simple words of comfort that I should have been saying to her. Ruth really looked after me over those first days, she trotted around the house, helping with the housework and chattering to me. It was Ruth who bullied me into going to church that first Sunday. I didn't want to go, I was feeling sorry for myself and blaming God for my troubles but she insisted. It was obviously very important to her so I gave in, to keep her happy. As we walked in to the church I felt very calm, I knew that it was right that I should be there. I never regretted going to church that day and I am sure that had it not been for that desperate prayer, God help me, and God's response to it, I would now be a very sad and bitter person."

After Jane had said all this I didn't quite know what to say. "I shall have to think about all that", I said, "it has rather taken the wind out of my sails, I just don't know what to think."

Jane said, "When you have thought about it come and see me again if you feel that you'd like to talk about it."

"Thank you, I will."

I was very confused that night, I had gone to find out how one who had suffered as Jane had could still believe in God, but what she had told me had only served to confuse me more than ever, yet I felt drawn to find out more. Although we had several more chats about religion, over the following weeks, I didn't understand any better than I had done that first evening we had spent together.

A year or so after our talk my business, which I ran from home, was running into difficulties. Inflation was running at a very high rate and because I was unable to buy large stocks of materials, at a lower bulk rate and as a hedge against inflation, I had to buy them in for each individual job. The problem was that by the time I had given an estimate for the job and had it accepted by the customer, the cost of materials had rocketed and I ended up working for little or no money. Bills weren't getting paid and I'd already had a couple of summonses from the County Court for non payment. I was a very worried man; In bed each night I couldn't sleep for the figures churning over and over in my brain, trying to work out how to save the business and avoid bankruptcy.

One night I lay in bed in the usual troubled way and from sheer desperation I cried out, "If there is a God out there, please help me!" Hardly a prayer of faith but it definitely did have an effect: I certainly didn't expect to see fivers floating down from heaven, and of course they didn't, but what did happen was that after months of sleepless nights I became calm enough to sleep, and rested, I was able to sit down with the figures and demands and look at them again, but this time objectively.

I wrote to all of my creditors, telling them that they could bankrupt me if they wished but if they did, they probably wouldn't get a penny back as the firm had very few assets. As an alternative I offered to pay my debts off on a monthly basis, while still dealing with them on a cash basis. Most of them agreed and although a few would not hear of this arrangement, I was able to pay these now that the pressure was off with the other companies. This got me out of a very nasty situation and enabled me to save the business. I got an accountant to re-structure my prices and since then my firm has gone from strength to strength.

While all this was happening I had little time to think about God. I did wonder how this change had come about after my feeble attempt at prayer, "Could it have been............? No, must have been a funny coincidence. That sort of thing just doesn't happen!", but I just couldn't quite dismiss the fact that when I needed help, help came.

I still saw Jane each day when she collected the children and we would sometimes go out for picnics with them. I also got to having coffee with her on Friday evenings but we rarely spoke of religion on these occasions.

One day last year when Jane collected Ruth and Andrew she said "We are having a Songs of Praise service at church next week. Would you like to come?" This totally unexpected invitation took me completely by surprise. Before I could reply she continued, "It is not our usual service, just a few popular hymns and a couple of prayers. We're a friendly lot and I'll give you moral support and sit with you."

I don't understand why, it was completely out of character, but I agreed immediately, I spent the week wondering why I had said yes so readily. "Oh well", I thought, "It's done now, I'll have to go through with it."

Sunday arrived and I called for Jane and the children and we all walked across to the church. It is hard to explain how I felt on that short journey over the road and up the church path. It was nicer than you feel when you are going for treatment at the dentists, but I felt the same sort of nervous anticipation, looking forward to going into the church but scared of the unknown, frightened of making a fool of myself. I needn't have worried, when we went into the church I was pleasantly surprised. As we passed through the door a lady welcomed me and handed me a couple of books. Jane introduced us and then we sat in a pew. The children, who I learned were in the choir, went off to the vestry.

I looked all around me: Some people were praying, as Jane had done when we first sat down. Others were chatting to those sitting near them and some were standing around in knots, talking. A choirboy was going to and fro, lighting the alter candles and another was putting up the boards with the hymn numbers. There were one or two very small children with their parents. One little girl was playing with a toy car along the pew. The church was very alive, it couldn't possibly be described as quiet. Thinking back to my schooldays, I can remember that we talked in church almost on pain of death, no matter how early we had arrived. Amid this background of activity, strange as it may seem, I experienced a tranquil feeling, almost like a meditation, and yet I was not praying, just taking everything in.

The organ started playing and the murmur stopped, a few minutes later the vestry door opened and the procession came in and we were standing, singing the first hymn.

After the service, the vicar invited us all to come into the hall for a cup of coffee. Jane led me into the hall, got us some coffee and introduced me to the vicar, who she called Jim. Everything was so friendly and informal. All the people who Jane introduced to me seemed to be nice ordinary folk, not at all the 'cucumber sandwiches on the vicarage lawn' churchy type of person that I had expected to find at this type of function. Jane laughed when I told her this, "That type of Christian does still exist but they are becoming a rarity now, especially in the built up areas."

I expressed surprise that nearly everybody called each other by their first names, even the vicar. Jane explained that Christians looked on each other as brothers and sisters, "and you wouldn't address your brother by his surname, would you!"

Jane took me to a couple of socials at the hall and two or three more Songs of Praise services. Gradually I began to find the peace which I seemed to have been seeking all of my life. I began attending normal services regularly. Recently I was confirmed and I am fast becoming an active member of the church. I have joined several discussion groups. I often attend extra services.

There is one extra service I shall definitely be attending next June, I wouldn't miss it for the World...... you see; Jane and I are to be married!

Have you ever wondered why people do the things they do?

Sammi.