Two Lonely People

MaggieMay – Jake Rivers

byJake Rivers ©

Author’sNote:

Severalauthors are coming out with stories based on the various versions of"Maggie May" or "Maggie Mae." The story titles will be: "Maggie May - author'spseudonym" e.g. "Maggie May – Jake Rivers"

Thestoryline might use any version or combinations of versions of the song. Some of the possibilities are by: RodStewart, John Lennon, Yoko Ono, Suzanne Vega and any of the various traditionalversions from England (an early version of this song dates to before 1830, andit was often sung as a capstan shanty. It later became popular in the 1950s& 60s amongst the Liverpool skiffle groups). There are other versions I haven't listed.

Thisis my third semi-annual "invitational." The initial one was based onthe Statler Brother's song, "This Bed of Rose's." The second used the Marty Robbins ElPaso trilogy: "El Paso" "El Paso City " and"Faleena."

Regards, Jake Rivers

Thanksto Techsan for his editing support.

~~~~~~

Thereare two main story lines that devolve from the various song versions: the olderwoman, younger man ala “The Graduate” and woman as prostitute. I plan on doing both versions but willfocus on the second for this story, which also includes inspiration from JuneCarter Cash’s great song, “Shadow of a Lady.” She composed the song along with J. Howard.

I’verecently undergone knee replacement surgery, so if the Vicodin colors my story,I apologize … although there are worse things than feeling pleasantly spacy!

Enjoy,Jake

THESHADOW OF A LADY

“From the life that I’ve been livin’

Now freedom I’ve been givin’

And you’re standin’ in the shadow of a lady.”

“TheShadow of a Lady”

MaggieMae Flowers stood on the corner, looking back in wonder at the small log cabinnestled in a small grove of willows and the one huge cottonwood shading thecabin. Now the bright afternoondimmed as the sun began its descent over Mt. Evans and the remaining latesummer snow turned a blood red.

Awan smile tugged at her lips as she wrapped her mind around the newness of thename Mt. Evans after years of knowing it as Mt. Rosa, or sometimes Mt.Rosalie. The Colorado legislature,somewhat embarrassed at having one of its most distinctive tourist attractionsnamed after a well-known adulteress had recently renamed the distinctive peakafter the former governor.

Lookingback at the cabin, her sad eyes lingered on the lamp over the door. It was dark now, and the white candlethat that been in place over the last ten hated years was missing. In a fit of pique she had thrown thecandle into the nearby South Platte, forever removing the stain the flickeringlight had cast on her life when lit in the evenings.

Asshe lingered, she thought not of the shame and hardship of the last ten yearsat the small cabin but of the new life promised by the visits first of thepriest from St. Mary’s then by Sister Roberta from the Sisters of Loretto. The small bag in her hand was noencumbrance as she prepared for the several miles’ walk to St. Mary’sChurch.

Therewere few things she had left of her earlier, happier life before her husband offive years was killed in a mining accident in Cripple Creek, leaving her aloneand destitute. A worn picture ofher husband, husky and plain, a simple man but good – strong butgentle. A locket with a tinyphotograph of her mother … clothes she had knitted with such love for the babythat died three days after birth. A plain and simple housedress, the gaudy clothes of her anguish burnedin the fireplace of the simple log cabin.

Herruminations were interrupted by the voice of the man, asking if she were freefor the evening.

Shelooked at him, not a bad man, actually a kind gentleman, but a man that wasfrom her loathed previous life. She turned away from his inquiry with tears in her eyes … but the tearscould not hide the shame she felt.

Sheturned back with a proud anger – the tears disregarded, her voiceshaky. “Sir, you think you know mebut you don’t. Please let meexplain. I took the light downfrom my door and I don’t work there any more.” She said this with a nod towards the now darkened cabin.

“Fromthe life I’ve been livin’ I’ve been given freedom. You’re standin’ in the shadow of a lady! So, Sir, don’t say the things you thinkare true; that isn’t me but someone else you knew.”

Theman froze, staring at her as she walked around him on her journey to a betterlife. She stopped and turned back,and added with a bitter voice, “Be careful what you say about me, Sir. You could be held for libel.” With a small smile she continued, “Sir,do you know where I can find a bible?”

Witha swish of her full skirt she turned and was gone in the night.

THEGENT

“And he wondered what had happened to his rare live pearl

Must have been another woman,

Must have been another world.”

“TheShadow of a Lady”

JohnGoodnight stared at the retreating figure, now almost lost in the heavy eveningshadows … shaking his head in wonder. Embarrassed, he looked at the money in his hand and, feeling shame, hefumbled it back into his pocket. Running his fingers through his hair, he shook his head in wonder, “Whathad happened to his rare live pearl that he had treasured more than he had lethimself realize?”

Headhanging from the suddenness of what had happened with the woman he had known asMaggie Mae, he mused, “It must have been another woman. It must have been another world.”

Hewalked slowly over to his one-horse shay and, climbing in, he shook the reinsand started back to his large, lonely house in Cherry Hills. His wife had died of consumption eightlong years ago and his only child, Robert, was serving as an instructor atTexas A&M.

Hehad stayed true to the memory of his beloved Martha for several years butloneliness had lain as a heavy burden on his soul for a long time until a goodfriend told him about Maggie Mae.

“Yes,she is a fallen woman but she’s not like the rest of them. Life was cruel to her and she took theonly path left. She’s differentfrom the others. She is welleducated, a fine conversationalist, all-in-all just a good woman in a badlife.” He went on to tell him thatif the light was on she was receiving visitors, but neglecting to tell him thatit was never lit on Sundays.

Hedithered for a few weeks, now yes, then no, before he gathered his courage oneevening after a quick winter storm had left a couple of inches of whiteloveliness over the grimy streets. He pulled up at the corner nearest her house and parked his two-personcarriage under the dim streetlight and walked down the dirt lane a few yards toher house.

Allwas dark; the candle was not lit over the door. There was a dim light seeping around the edges of the closedshutter over the one window in the front of the log cabin. Feeling overwhelmed by his need forcontact with another person he timidly knocked at the door.

Aftera few silent minutes, she opened the door a bit, ready to chase the unwantedvisitor away.

“I’msorry, Sir, I don’t see anyone on Sundays.”

Hestood there a brief moment, then with slouched shoulders he started to turnaway. Hesitating, he turned back,stuttering, “It’s just, well, Madam, my Martha has been dead for these yearsand I … well, the loneliness weighs so heavily on me. I just wanted to talk to a woman. I’m sorry, I’ll not bother you.”

Heturned and walked up the lane, his pain showing in his slow, stumbling walk.

“Justa minute, Sir. I … well; I wasjust ready to eat dinner. I’m …”Hesitating, she continued, “Sir, I’m not open tonight but if you want to sharemy meager food you may.”

Thatnight started a slow, fumbling relationship between the two. He sat silently, at a loss forwords. After a few quiet questionsfrom her he talked of his life, his love for the lost Martha, the pride he hadin his son and the large lonely house he lived in. Dinner was plain food but prepared well and coffeeafterwards was better than his housekeeper usually prepared.

Afterwards,not know what to do or say, he, with some hesitation, left some money on thesmall table near the door.

Ashe opened the door, Maggie Mae surprised herself, “Sir, if you would like youcan come for dinner next Sunday.”

Thenext week John brought a bag of food from his larder and made this a regularpractice. He would come about twoSundays a month, having to travel some with his business. For three or four months, dinner andconversation was all that happened. Then one Sunday evening in the first warmth of spring, as John rose togo, Maggie took his arm and led him to her bed. Afterwards they held each other and cried for their lostloves and shared loneliness.

Ashe dressed to go, she whispered, “John, please don’t leave any money.”

ButJohn had the money prepared as usual in a small envelope and he knew she neededit to get by on. She never saidanything again and he was always discrete in leaving it.

Thisbecame the routine they followed on the Sundays he came and he never showed upon any other day. He knew she sawother men during the rest of the week but knew that if he ever saw one it wouldruin things for him. The few hourshe spent with her became a time-out-of-life for him. The very unreality of his relationship with her made thereality of his sad, lonely life bearable.

Andthat was the way it went for five years until that fateful evening on thecorner where she gave him the message that ended his years of relativehappiness. When he arrived home,for the first time in his life he opened a bottle of whiskey and went to beddrunk.

Hehad lost his “rare livepearl.”

MAGGIE– A NEW START

During thehalf-hour it took to walk to St. Mary’s Church, she thought about her run-inwith John. After considering itshe was disappointed in how she had handled it. If she had any friends at all it was he. She had come to enjoy his visits andnot once had he insisted, or even asked for, sex with her. She knew how he treasured the fewmoments they had been able to spend together. She understood that he looked at the physical part of theirrelationship for the extended intimacy, the added dimension it gave to whatthey had shared.

She hatedto take the money from him but she knew he had money and might have stoppedcoming if he couldn’t leave a token of his caring. In his way he was a proud man and thrived on their timespent together. She was sure that he never would have asked for anything morethan just their conversations, their sharing of a meal and even their momentsof silence.

She wasgrimly committed to making her future work for her but what would it be likefor John? Did she owe himanything? Would she miss the timeshe had spend with her Sunday friend. With a start she realized that John was the only man she had shared ameal with since her husband had died. Arriving at the church she resolved not to worry about anything butgetting started on her new life.

She knockedon the door of the rectory when she arrived and there was a woman waiting forher. Her name was Hazel and sheturned out to be the cook for the priests at the rectory. She took Maggie to the back of thebuilding where there were two small bedrooms and a slightly larger common area,with several chairs, a sofa and a dining table with a couple of chairs. This was accessed through a door thatopened off the kitchen.

“I’m in thebedroom to the right, the other one is yours. This area is for us to share and we can eat here. Father Gerald asked me to get youstarted and show you your duties. We both work six days a week with Sunday off. I do all the cooking and you do the cleaning. We also help each other as needed. For example sometimes the priests willhave visitors over in the evenings. After a major celebration like Easter or Christmas the church is a messand I’ll help you with that. Wealso have ladies from the parish that volunteer to help us out.

“Don’tworry, Dearie, you won’t have any problems. Sister Roberta said it was okay for her to talk to me aboutthe background so I know what you’ve been through. It’s possible some man from your past might recognizeyou. If you have any problems justlet me, any of the sisters or any of the priests know about it. I guarantee that no one from the parishstaff will treat you any different than they do me. Do you have any questions?”

“No, Iguess not. I’ll need some clothes;I didn’t have much to bring with me.”

“We get a lotof stuff donated – I can help you with that. Now, can I interest you in a glass of milk and some freshmincemeat pie?”

With asmall laugh Maggie tried a smile and walked into the kitchen with Hazel.

~~~~~~

For thenext month Maggie was very busy. She had attended several different churches as a child buthad never been baptized and knew nothing about the Catholic Church. The work wasn’t that hard but there wasso much about the church she didn’t know and so many parishioners would stopand talk to her. Hazel had helpedher find some simple but nice clothes that she enjoyed wearing … in fact sheenjoyed the simplicity of her new life. She was really too busy to feel lonely but some nights she would lieawake and think about John Goodnight.

She stillfelt guilty about the way she had left him and admitted a curiosity abouthim. She knew who he was and wherehe lived but she was afraid that he would misunderstand if she sought him out. Each day brought a new commitment tonever be forced to live the life she had for ten years … a life she hated andstill felt unclean about.

Hazelseveral times talked to her about it, “Sometimes life is hard, Honey, and youdo what you have to at times just to live.” She went on to encourage her to talk to the priest and askforgiveness.

Maggie hadstarted going to mass each morning and on Sundays, in the hope she could betterunderstand this church that had helped her change a life. Parts of it were in Latin but sheenjoyed the formality of the rites, the songs that seemed to bring everyonetogether and the homilies.

After massone Sunday she was walking up to the priest and saw John talking to him. Not wanting him to see her –though not sure why – she whirled and went out the side door. As she reached it she turned and sawJohn looking at her … she froze a minute staring at him then rushed on to therectory.

One morningas she was sweeping between the pews Monsignor O’Brien – a retired Irishpriest that helped out with some of the masses -stopped and talked to her. They sat down on one of the pews andhad their first of many discussions and began a good friendship that lasteduntil he died seven years later.

He talkedto her of the church and got her to talk of her life. After several of these talks he asked her if she would liketo start the process of being baptized and becoming a Catholic.

“Yes,Father, I think I would. I’vefound peace in my stay here and feel at home. I feel that God is calling me to do something – I knownot what. But I feel if I can findhappiness I can give some of that to others.”

One morningin early October Father Gerald asked her to come to his office. “Maggie Mae, I dasn’t think Hazel toldyou that one of your duties is to coordinate the decorations for preparing thechurch for Christmas and Easter, our two major celebrations of the year.

“It’s notso much doing the work but working with the volunteers to make sure thateverything gets done. You willprobably find that sometimes you have too much help. Hazel has done this several times and she can give you helpand suggestions. Are you okay withthis?”

“I guessso, Father. I’ve never doneanything like this before. Thereis so much that I don’t know.”

Two dayslater the priests invited Hazel and Maggie Mae to eat dinner with them. Afterwards Hazel appeared with a cakeand they each gave her a small gift. The one she came to prize over the years was a leather bound bible fromthe Monsignor. As they finishedFather Gerald gave her an envelope.

“Annie, oursecretary, said a man left this for you.”

She tookthe note to her room and noting the high quality of the stationery she read themessage, beautifully written in ink with a fine script.

DearMaggie Mae,

I sawyou at the church a while back and Father Gerald said you were the newhousekeeper. I hope your new lifefinds you happy and always have a smile on your face.

I hearthat ladies supposedly don’t know their age but I hope you have found peace inthis, your thirty-sixth year.

I’m ingood health but loneliness and time lie heavy on me. I find myself traveling more than I need to so that I canfill the days with being busy.

I missour talks and pray that you are well.

As oneof the Spanish gentlemen that I work with is fond of saying, vaya con Dios … gowith God.

Yourservant,

John

~~~~~~

Severalweeks after this, Farther Gerald asked her to meet with him in the morning ateight, at the rectory office. “Ihave one of our key volunteers coming in to meet with you. He is also a strong supporter of ourchurch and has helped a number of poor families in need through the years. He contributes the Christmas tree anddecorations each year. I think youwill find him very helpful.”

The nextmorning, Maggie made her way to the office. As she walked up she saw a familiar face on the man with thepriest. The two turned to her andshe gasped out, “John!”

JOHN– DAYS DARK AND LONELY

Onenight of getting drunk was enough for John; he knew he would never do thatagain. He could see himselffalling downwards in a blind spiral that ended in nothingness.

Hethought long and hard about Maggie Mae. He knew what she did on the other nights of the week but he hadcompartmentalized it … buried it so deep in his psyche that these men seldomcame up as something to worry about. He believed he was half in love with Maggie and had this fantasy thatgradually became a plan … he would marry her!

Hehad considered just trying to give her some money so she could change herlife. He was certain though, fromtheir many fireside discussions, that she was too proud to take that kind andmagnitude of help.

Sothe fantasy of bringing her to his home as his wife began to grow. Many evenings he sat in his chair anddaydreamed what it would be like to have a woman in the house again. There would be an end to his lonelylife … he could be happy again. There was really no need for him to take these business trips. He could hire an assistant and trainhim on the negotiations that took place.

Andthen … that last night. He washappy for her being able to break away from the life he knew she hated. But he sensed from what she had saidthat she wanted no contact with any of her former lovers … with him.

Hetraveled more on his business. Itmade him more money but he already had enough for any needs he might have. It did make him busier but he was justlonely in Omaha or Kansas City rather than in his house.

Hehad about given up on his dream of having her in his life until, after mass atSt. Mary’s one Sunday, he was talking with Father Gerald.

“So,John, are you going to do the Christmas tree again this year?”

“Yes,Father, it was Martha’s favorite activity. It helps to keep her memory alive for me.”

“Good,good. I’ll have the newhousekeeper work with you. Say,there she is now.”

Johnturned and was amazed to see Maggie Mae going out the side door of the church,towards the rectory.

Thepriest continued, “I’ll set up a meeting and introduce you to her.”

Johnstarted coming to different masses and now and again saw Maggie, but never hada chance to talk to her. Finally,the meeting Father Gerald had set up took place. John was standing in front of the office with the priestwhen Maggie Mae walked up.

Asshe faced them, she gasped, “John!” and her face turned white.

FatherGerald was somewhat concerned, knowing what he did of Maggie’s past life. “I guess you two know each other? Maggie, are you okay to meet with JohnGoodnight on the Christmas Decorations?”

“Father,I … I do know John. He was a goodfriend to me – once.” With astronger voice, she continued, “Yes, it’s fine that I work with John on theChristmas tree.”

FatherGerald left and they went into his office, leaving the door open. They sat on two straight-backed chairsin front of the fireplace. Silencedenveloped them, both looking at the cheery fire made of lengths of lodge polepine. The collapse of a logwith it’s bright sparks and sudden flare-up of the flames woke them from theirbrief reverie.

“Howare you, Maggie? You look well.”

“I… I’m fine, John.” She lookedsharply at him for a moment. “Youlook tired. Have you been sick?”

Johnstared at the fire for a longish moment; the memory of his lonely days andnights lay heavy on his heart. With a deep sigh, he turned to her, “No, Maggie, not in that sense. Look, I’ve much to say and I’d like todo that another time. Can we goahead and talk about Christmas?”

Johntalked to her awhile about some of the various ways it had been done in thepast. Maggie got some paper offthe clerics desk and made some notes. They walked through the various areas of the church grounds that wouldbe affected, gradually becoming relaxed with each other.

Whenthey finished they were standing in front of the church. They chatted for a few minutes and Johnmade ready to leave. He turnedback, and asked, “Maggie, I have some things to deliver on Wednesdayafternoon. I would enjoy yourcompany and I think you would find it rewarding. This is something I do every year at this time. And, Maggie, I’ll have a driver so wewouldn’t be alone.”

Aftersome hesitation, she agreed to go with him.

~~~~~~

Wednesdaycame and John picked Maggie Mae up in front of the rectory. As he had said there was a large burlyman driving the coach and in back of the seats there was a large pile of boxesand a number of flour sacks that appeared to be quite full.

“Goodafternoon, Maggie. This is BillBaughman. I use him for a driverwhen I go on the Christmas trips. As you will see we will be going to some of the not-so-nice parts oftown.”

Hecould see she was curious, so he continued, “Every year the parish comes upwith a list of needy people. Somelike-minded citizens and myself put the arm on people we know have more moneythan they can spend and lean on some of the grocers and buy food and toys attheir cost. We collect this stuffat a warehouse I own and take turns delivering. Bill is here because in the past we have had troublewith some shady characters trying to steal the goods.”

Maggieknew without being told that John Goodnight was a major contributor of theChristmas cheer.

Theypulled up in front of what could be charitably called a shack. It was a wooden frame covered bytarpaper with old newspapers stapled over some of the tears. John got down and held his hand up forMaggie. He didn’t say anythingabout the people that lived there.

Aftera brief knock, a young woman – maybe in her early twenties but lookingten years older, answered the door. With a proud look on her face she smiled at John and said, “Bless you,John Goodnight.”

Shebade them enter her tiny hovel and Maggie was surprised that it wasimmaculately clean, with old rugs covering the bare dirt floor. It was dark inside; there were nowindows, a lantern being the only source of light. There were two small girls, about two and four and dressed inwell-worn clothes.

Billcame in lugging two boxes and several of the flour bags. The woman started crying andspontaneously gave a hug to both men and Maggie Mae.

Asthey got back in the carriage, John told her, “This woman’s husband was hurt ina mining accident and has been in the hospital for a month. It will be four or five months beforehe can work again. What thisfamily needs more than anything is not food and presents for the girls or eventhe clothes we left, but they need hope. I have a friend that owns several mines and he will take this woman’shusband on as a scheduler. He willmake sure the right men and equipment are always in the right place.”

Theyvisited a half-dozen more families over the afternoon. Some were neat like the first personand some were slovenly. Someneeded a bootstrap to make their live better and others had given up onlife. As they made their way backto the church, John added, “It is not my place to judge who is needy and who isnot. I get the list of people fromFather Gerald.”

Theyleft Maggie off in front of the rectory, leaving her with a great deal on hermind.

MAGGIE- GROWTH & GRACE

Theafternoon spent with John delivering food for the needy clarified some thingsin her mind. In one of hermeetings with Sister Roberta, the nun had told her, “… to make a clean breakwith her past.”

Nowshe understood that to mean to shut out and avoid all that had been part of thedark side of her life. She had hadambivalent feelings about John. Yes, he knew about her past, but so did Father Gerald and SisterRoberta.

Shehad never felt that John was part of what she thought of as the “ugly” part ofher life. He had always beenrespectful and kind towards her. Remembering the night she had run into him when she was on her way tothe church shamed her. She hadbeen so wrapped in the joy of being able to change her life that she hadforgotten John as a person … he had never been one of her “clients.”

Everyoneshe talked with at the parish all had the highest regard for him. As Christmas approached and she workedclosely with John on the Christmas tree and decorations, she gradually becamemore open to him as a person, as a man. So when John asked her out to dinner to thank her for her efforts inassisting him, she was inclined to say yes.

“Wherewould we go?”

“Maggie,do you have a favorite? If not,I’ve always liked the restaurant in the Brown Palace Hotel. Would that be okay?”

Sheknew it was a fancy place so she asked Hazel to help her, “I don’t have any ofthe right clothes … do you have any ideas?”

“Well,Maggie, I do have some gray wool that would look nice. I know you are a good seamstress, so ifwe work together …”

ThatSaturday night, just a few days before Christmas, John picked her up in hisone-horse shay. When she answeredhis knock, he was stunned by how lovely she looked in the stylish, light gray,wool dress. He dared a kiss on hersoft cheek and handed her into his buggy. After covering her with the heavy buffalo robe, he snapped the reins andset off for the Brown Palace.

Ata cost of two million dollars the hotel was opened several years prior, in1892. The Italian Renaissancebuilding, using Colorado red granite and Arizona sandstone for the building'sexterior featured the first atrium in the country and became known at the placeto go for afternoon tea. Therestaurant was considered one of the best on the Front Range of Colorado.

Johncouldn’t help but notice the admiring glances cast at Maggie and as the waiterpulled her chair out he remarked to himself, once again, what a lovely womanshe was.

Thedinner went quite well but as they were passing through the lobby on their wayout, a querulous voice called out, “Maggie? Maggie Mae? Isthat you?”

Johnquickly stepped between Maggie and the well-known, stout lawyer. “Joseph, this lady is a friend ofmine. It’s not anyone you know.”

Hequickly hustled her out the door to his waiting carriage. John was somewhat put out by theinterchange and couldn’t help but snap at Maggie as he helped her into herseat, “I suppose that was one of your clients?”

Maggie,shocked at the question and the tone, stepped out of the buggy and was quicklylost in the crowd. As soon as shewas sure that John had left, she walked over to the trolley and started hertrip back to St. Mary’s.

Later,in her room in the dark impersonal night, she let herself go and cried. She knew she was half in love with JohnGoodnight but how could he have been so cruel?

Thenext morning, she begged Hazel to take over the work with John on the Christmasdecorations.

Severaldays later she sought out Sister Roberta and told her what had happened. “When he asked if that man was one ofmy clients, I ‘bout died! Ofeveryone that knew of my past John would have been the last one that I wouldhave expected to say anything.”

“Lass,do you think it might have been jealousy that drove him to react that way? You’ve told me before that he wouldonly come to see you on Sundays. Maybe as long as he never saw the other men he could imagine he was theonly one visiting you. Considerhow he felt when he saw the man. Could it have been like that?”

“Yes,Sister, I guess it could. I justfelt so awful about the way he said it. But if he did it out of jealousy, that means …”

“Exactly,Maggie. For him to be jealouswould indicate that he has strong feelings for you. I’ve known John for years and I knew his wife. John is a good man, an honest man. If you have feelings for him like Ibelieve he has for you, then you need to do something to let him know that.”

“Youare right, of course, Sister. I docare a lot for John, more than I have ever cared for any other man other thanmy husband. You have given me muchto think about, Sister.

JOHN– REACHING FOR LOVE

Johnfelt this terrible ache in his heart as Maggie Mae disappeared into the heavycrowd. “Oh, God, what have Idone?” he asked himself, over and over. He knew he had hurt her in the worst way possible. He had known for years what she was buthe was still able to come to her almost every Sunday for years.

Witha heavy heart he started his carriage for home. He had gone several blocks when he saw a group of men andwomen standing on a street corner singing Christmas Carols. Dressed in the dark uniforms with themen wearing military-like caps and the women with full bonnets, they weresinging with a love that sent chills down his back:

It came upon the midnight clear,

That glorious song of old,

From angels bending near the earth

With news of joy foretold,

"Peace on the earth, good will to men

From heaven's all gracious King."

The world in solemn stillness lay,

To hear the angels sing.

Helistened for several minutes … feeling peace flow into his heart. Then the next song, one he recognizedas “O Holy Night” came the words that grabbed his heart and mind:

Truly He taught us

to love one another;

His law is love and

His gospel is peace.

“Ifthis was how God wanted us to be with others, with strangers, with ourneighbors … John understood with a flash: how then should I treat those I trulycare about, those that mean a great deal to me.”

“Itreated Maggie Mae with less care and respect than God expects of me with therandom stranger!” John was awed bythis thought and lay awake late that night trying to make his life make sense.

Severaldays later, while he was still trying to understand what he should do, hereceived an invitation for dinner with Maggie at the rectory. With faint trepidation and more excitement,John made ready for the dinner two days hence, at last fully knowing his heart.

MAGGIE& JOHN

Maggiecorralled Hazel to help her prepare the dinner … and to serve it. Maggie knew that if she could just makeJohn understand how she felt then everything would be okay. She wanted a simple dinner –nothing that would distract from the conversation. She did decorate the table with a Christmas theme –Hazel somewhere had found a red tablecloth with green napkins.

Thedinner was for a Sunday night, the one night the priests either ate out or atone or another of the parishioners’ houses. Everything was ready and John was punctual to theminute. Hazel went to answer thefront door and brought John back with her.

MaggieMae was standing by the table, suddenly nervous as Hazel entered with anequally nervous John.

“Maggie,I …”

“John,please …”

Witha rush they came together. Thetight embrace more than made up for the fumbling, tentative words. They finally broke when Hazel, with aninelegant harrumph, asked if they were ready to eat.

Johnsat at the end and Maggie next to him on the side. The food was eaten slowly and the conversation after atentative start turned fast and furious. Both of them were rushing to say what was, and had been, in theirhearts.

Itwas the ending of the past life for both of them and a new life for them as acouple. It was not always easy andit took a great deal of time. Maggie had to finish her catechism with the Monsignor. Father Gerald had to post their banns. Plans were made, and as they wished, atthe start of Advent the following year they were married.

Theyhad many obstacles to overcome but it was a wonderful love they shared, all thericher for the challenges.