5 minute read
Something Funny in the Vestry
By Kathy Luder
A funny thing happened over the summer. Aaron Koehler got cute. He got nicer, too. Then a funny thing happened in Sunday School. Molly and I started flirting with him. We began leaving notes for him from a “Secret Admirer.” At first he crumpled them up. He was afraid he was being teased. He finally relaxed when he figured out it was us and not one of his buddies. The thing is that he didn’t know which of us it was. What he didn’t know is that we didn’t know either. We both liked him, but neither of us had the courage to admit it.
Advertisement
Then Aaron called our bluff. He starting writing notes back. They were the sappiest, corniest letters ever. They gushed with sarcasm and awful poetry. After several weeks of this, we arrived in Mrs. Zaftig’s class before everyone else and found this note:
Molly and I squealed in unison. It was loud enough that after a moment, we heard the kindergartners down the hall erupt in laughter. Then a dozen rugrats came running into our room all squealing just like we had. We didn’t care. We were on cloud nine. Molly couldn’t stand still. She was bouncing up and down. Mrs. Zaftig arrived with a puzzled look and a dozen donuts while the kindergarten teacher ushered her children out with a rebuking glance our way.
Molly and I headed to the bathroom.
“What are we going to do?” Molly said. “If we don’t show, he won’t write anymore.”
“I think we should leave a note in the vestry saying he was late so we left. He’ll still write,” I told her.
“No, Kathy,” Molly said. “We should get the kiss— both of us.”
“How could we?” I asked.
“We could surprise him—ambush him. We’ll both be in the vestry and jump out and kiss him at the same time. But, which room is the vestry?” Molly asked.
“It’s where Mrs. Carpenter counts the Sunday school offering and tallies attendance, in the hallway behind the choir loft.” I replied, always so proud of my vocabulary.
“It is too crowded,” Molly said. “Mrs. Carpenter has a desk and filing cabinets in there. Plus, there’s nowhere to hide.”
“Then we’ll catch him when he comes out,” I said. “I’ll go into that choir robe room on this side of the vestry, and you go into the storage closet on the other side. He’ll go in and see that no one’s there. When he comes back out, we’ll be on either side of him. You give him a kiss on his right cheek, and I’ll give him a kiss on his left. Then we’ll run away before he knows what happened. It’ll be perfect. He won’t know what hit him.”
We discussed the details for a while, but finally settled on that plan. We went back to Sunday school and tried to not notice Aaron’s constant glances. Finally, Mrs. Zaftig led us in the Lord’s Prayer to close, and Molly and I darted out of the classroom. We knew Aaron was right behind us. So I ducked into the first room where the choir keeps their robes. Molly was to go on just past the vestry to the storage closet. I pushed the door shut but kept my hand on the doorknob so that I could pop out as soon as I heard Aaron close the vestry door. Molly, I knew, would be doing the same thing.
My heart was racing as I felt the doorknob turning in my hand. Molly must not have time to get past the vestry to her room. I quickly pulled it open to let her in before Aaron caught us. But it wasn’t Molly. It was Aaron. He was blushing and out of breath. He looked surprised. My pulling the door open so quickly had pulled him right into me, face to face.
Aaron gave a little grin, leaned in, and gave me a light kiss on the mouth. I didn’t kiss back. I didn’t have time.
Without a word, he turned and ran back the way he had come. Molly was standing in the hallway staring at me with her mouth open. She stomped her foot, spun around, and dashed down the stairs. I was all alone, my hand still on the knob. I turned to the door and noticed a tarnished brass plaque. It said, “Vestry.” I was in the vestry!!
It turns out the place where they keep the robes is called the vestry. I don’t know what Mrs. Carpenter’s room is called. For the first time in my life, I was in the wrong place at the right time because I thought I knew more than I did. But it worked out perfectly. Except for Molly’s jealousy, and my embarrassment that Aaron thought I meant it, it could have hardly been better.
There was no time for reflection, no time to explain anything. The church bell was ringing. Fortunately for me, Aaron and Molly both go to early service so I didn’t have to endure their presence. I just sat with my family like everything was normal. I sang the words and hymns. I bowed, stood, and knelt when everyone else did. I went to communion.
I was in shock. I couldn’t even think. It seemed like a dream. But in the midst of it, I found the service strangely comforting. I got lost in the Liturgy. It just swept over me. I didn’t really have to pay attention. The service was as comfortable and familiar as my grandmother’s embrace. Yet every word had new depth and meaning. God had watched the whole ridiculous thing. We were writing the notes and didn’t even know who the Secret Admirer was, but God knew what would happen from the beginning. He had taken care of me. It was a wonderful surprise.
I learned a little something about worship that day: the Word of God never changes, but we, and our emotional responses to it, do. I remember the somber tones the service took on after the terrorist attacks in New York and the way they rolled about in me after Aaron’s kiss: the same joy, the same promise and hope, but a different emotion and experience. How comforting the liturgy is in a world of change and uncertainty, in a world of Mollies, Aarons, and Zaftigs!
Kathy Luder, a figment of our imagination of Danish heritage, is a high school sophomore in the heart of the Midwest. Her favorite foods all start with the letter “W.”
