Chapter 27

Cassie

We went back to church on the last Sunday in November. I hadn't been there in nearly two months, and while Yirmeyah had been in services since then it had been just as long since he'd said an official word. He hadn't preached or taught, and the church hadn't allowed him to attempt it. I knew, because he'd told me, that he'd stood to thank the church on a couple of occasions for their prayers and their help, but in a very real sense it was all brand new for us.

Mama and Daddy had come over to the parsonage to go to church with us, and though Yirmeyah and I had worked out a method to get me in and out of the car and the pickup both, they hovered around like mother birds, and I couldn't really blame them. I knew that if my sons were sick or crippled I'd want to hover too.

And it was good that Mama and Daddy were there, because as much as Yirmeyah and I loved David and Stephen we weren't sure that we could handle them and me all at once, not this soon. The twins rode with Mama and Daddy, and I sat beside Yirmeyah in my car – and realized that I might never drive again, even though I didn't use my left foot since my car was an automatic – as we went to church. It was a short ride, and we were there quickly.

When we pulled in someone must have passed the word inside the church, because as Yirmeyah and I worked to get me out and upright a crowd gathered. When I was fully out of the car, with my weight on my right leg and my right hand on the roof of the car to support me while Yirmeyah got the wheelchair out of the trunk, the people gave a cheer such as I hadn't heard in my life. Even the applause at our wedding didn't match it. It went on and on, while Yirmeyah unfolded the chair and got me into it and pushed me through the throng and into the building. I was crying, and for once didn't make any attempt to wipe away my tears. I didn't know how or why, but I had the thought that the love the people were showing toward me and my husband required me to be completely honest about how much it touched my heart.

All my life I'd sat toward the back with Mama and Daddy, and then moved forward to sit with Yirmeyah, though it wasn't long after our marriage that he'd given up the front pew for a seat on the platform so as to let the growing crowds have the spot. He now parked my chair at the end of the front pew, close to "our" spot, and set the brake, and went to take his seat on the platform. As he turned and sat down I saw that there were tears on his cheeks too, and he didn't make any more of an attempt to wipe them away than I did.

And the applause went on and on. It must have continued for five minutes after Yirmeyah sat down on the platform, and then people began sitting down, those who could, for when I turned in my chair – to the left, for only my right arm had strength enough to push me around – I saw that we were standing room only that day. It was the largest crowd I'd ever seen in Hopeful Church, even after we'd grown so quickly after Yirmeyah came to be our pastor. The sight sent fresh tears down my cheeks, and I let myself flop back to face the front in my chair and bowed my head and quickly gave thanks to God for the love of His people.

I don't remember much of the opening exercises. I know we must have sung hymns, for we always did, and anyway I found later on that I was holding a hymnal which someone must have put in my right hand. I know we must have listened to two separate Scripture readings, for that had been our custom for decades, and I know we must have prayed. But the first thing I remember clearly, after seeing how full the building was, is Yirmeyah standing and walking to the pulpit.

Yirmeyah

I stood at the pulpit, afraid that they'd start applauding again. Instead it was dead silence. I saw some people wiping their eyes. Others had their heads bowed as though they were praying. A number looked toward me with as much attention as I'd ever received in my preaching career. One man near the back gave me a thumbs up, and I saw a lady reach forward and place her hand on Cassie's shoulder. That hand stayed there for a moment, and I saw it give a reassuring squeeze, before the owner pulled it back.

"I'm here this morning," I said, "without a prepared sermon. As you know, I've been pretty occupied for a couple of months. I tried to study, but it was a miserable failure. Anyway, y'all have preached a better sermon these weeks than any I could ever do."

I stopped and wiped my nose with my handkerchief, but left my tears alone. These people deserved to see my naked gratitude. "Cassie and I are so thankful for everything y'all have done. It's not just our reception this morning, though that's about overwhelmed us. It's that you've cut our grass, and took care of our mail, and made sure we had groceries in the cupboards." I heard my English going to Texas, and didn't even try to stop it. "Y'all have been better Christians toward us than I probably've been to y'all. You've done for us better than we can ever do for y'all. They ain't no words to express how much we love y'all, and how grateful we are to y'all."

I was running out of words. I had a sudden thought and looked toward my wife. "Cassie, y'all wanna say anythin'?"

She nodded, so I reached for a microphone – but one of the deacons beat me to it. He had it off the stand and in her right hand before I could hardly move.

"I'm sorry," she said, "that I can't turn around and look at you, or get up and go around and hug every one of you. I'm crippled now, and I'm learning to live with that, and one of the things I have to live with is the fact that I can't walk and I can't even stand up without help, and with just one working hand I can't really maneuver this wheelchair, and so I can't circulate and love you the way I want to.

"But I do love you – each one of you. All I did was have a stroke. You have given of your time, and your energy, and your money, and your love, and you've treated me better than the Queen of England gets. All I did was have twins. You have given me and Yirmeyah such love that if we tried for the rest of our lives we could never repay nor equal it.

"I love my husband above all else on earth. Next to him I love my sons, and next to them I love my parents. You know that is how it must be. But right after Mama and Daddy comes my church. You put up with me when I was just a smart-mouthed girl who liked to flirt with all the handsome boys. You've loved me as I've come to know the Lord, and as I've stolen your pastor's heart away."

The church knew a joke when they heard one, and laughed uproariously. And it was just the right touch. I had been serious, and Cassie had been serious. The joke eased the tension.

Cassie looked around at those she could see. The next time we had her speak we'd have to have someone turn her wheelchair around. "When I pray tonight, I'm going to thank God for you. I'm going to thank God that He brought Hopeful Church into existence, and that He put me in it, and that since this had to happen, it happened while I was among you. There can be no better group of people anywhere, and I'm so grateful to God that I'm with you."

She handed the microphone back to the deacon, who put it back on the stand. I'd remained at the pulpit while Cassie spoke, though I'm sure no one remembered I was there until she was done. I now looked out over the congregation.

"I know," I said, "that I didn't ask anyone to preach for me this morning. I ought to have made provision. But then I have no idea how y'all have been handlin' the preachin' while I've been out. I'm going to sit down now, and let y'all run this meetin' as the Lord leads you."