Rockingham Memories

Stories & Emails From You

Magnolias
by Edna Ellison

I spent the week before my daughter's June  wedding
  running last-minute trips to the caterer, florist,
  tuxedo shop, and the church about forty miles  away.

As happy as I was that Patsy was marrying a good
  Christian young man, I felt laden with
  responsibilities as I watched my budget dwindle   . .

So many details, so many bills, and so little time.
My son Jack was away at college, but he  said
  he would be there to walk his younger sister down
  the aisle, taking the place of his dad who had died
  a few years before. He teased Patsy, saying he'd
  wanted to give her away since she was about three years old!

  To save money, I gathered blossoms from several
  friends who had large magnolia trees. Their
  luscious, creamy-white blooms and slick green  eaves
  would make beautiful arrangements against the rich
  dark wood inside the church.

  After the rehearsal dinner the night before the
  wedding, we banked the podium area and choir  loft
  with magnolias. As we left just before midnight,  I
  felt tired but satisfied this would be the best
  wedding any bride had ever had! The music, the
  ceremony, the reception - and especially the
  flowers - would be remembered for years.
 
  The big day arrived - the busiest day of my life   -
  and while her bridesmaids helped Patsy to dress,  her
  fiancé Tim walked with me to the sanctuary to do a
  final check. When we opened the door and felt a
  rush of hot air, I almost fainted; and then I  saw
  them - all the beautiful white flowers were black.
  Funeral black. An electrical storm during the night
  had knocked out the air conditioning system, and on
  that hot summer day, the flowers had wilted and died.

I panicked, knowing I didn't have time to drive  back
  to our hometown, gather more flowers, and return  in
  time for the wedding.
 
  Tim turned to me. 'Edna, can you get more  flowers?
  I'll throw away these dead ones and put fresh
  flowers in these arrangements.'
 
  I mumbled, 'Sure,' as he be-bopped down the hall  to
  put on his cuff links.
 
  Alone in the large sanctuary, I looked up at the
  dark wooden beams in the arched ceiling. 'Lord,'   I
  prayed, 'please help me. I don't know anyone in
  this town. Help me find someone willing to give  me
  flowers - in a hurry!' I scurried out praying  for
  four things: the blessing of white magnolias,
  courage to find them in an unfamiliar yard, safety
  from any dog that may bite my leg, and a nice person
  who would not get out a shotgun when I asked to  cut
  his tree to shreds.
 
  As I left the church, I saw magnolia trees in  the
  distance. I approached a house...No dog in  sight..
  knocked on the door and an older man answered.   So
  far so good. No shotgun. When I stated my plea
  the man beamed, 'I'd be happy to!'

  He climbed a stepladder and cut large boughs and
  handed them down to me. Minutes later, as I   lifted
  the last armload into my car trunk, I said,   'Sir,
  you've made the mother of a bride happy today.'

  No, Ma'am,' he said. 'You don't understand  what's
  happening here.'

   'What?' I asked.

    'You see, my wife of sixty-seven years died on
  Monday. On Tuesday I received friends at the
  funeral home, and on Wednesday . . . He paused. I
  saw tears welling up in his eyes. 'On Wednesday  I
  buried her.' He looked away. 'On Thursday most  of
  my out-of-town relatives went back home, and on
  Friday - yesterday - my children left.'

   I nodded.

  'This morning,' he continued, 'I was sitting in  my
  den crying out loud. I miss her so much. For the
  last sixteen years, as her health got worse, she
  needed me. But now nobody needs me. This morning  I
  cried, 'Who needs an eighty-six-year-old  wore-out
  man? Nobody!' I began to cry louder. 'Nobody  needs
  me!' About that time, you knocked, and said, 
'Sir, I need you.'

   I stood with my mouth open.

  He asked, 'Are you an angel? The way the light shone
  around your head into my dark living room...'

   I assured him I was no angel.
  
  He smiled. 'Do you know what I was thinking when  I
  handed you those magnolias?'

'No.' 

  'I decided I'm needed. My flowers are needed.   Why,
  I might have a flower ministry! I could give  them
  to everyone! Some caskets at the funeral home  have
  no flowers. People need flowers at times like  that
  and I have lots of them. They're all over the
  backyard! I can give them to hospitals, churches   -
  all sorts of places. You know what I'm going to  do?
  I'm going to serve the Lord until the day He calls
  me home!'
  
  I drove back to the church, filled with wonder.  On
  Patsy's wedding day, if anyone had asked me to
  encourage someone who was hurting, I would have
  said, 'Forget it! It's my only daughter's wedding,
  for goodness' sake! There is no way I can  minister
  to anyone today.'

  But God found a way. Through dead flowers.
   'Life is not the way it's supposed to be. It's the
  way it is. The way you cope with it is what  makes
  the difference.'