Post by freebirde on Mar 15, 2017 16:09:09 GMT -6
Being the only full time pastor in our small town puts me in the position of having people come to me that would never come to our church. Widow Green, a member of a more social acceptable church with a traveling pastor, was in just now complaining about poor Mr. Gray. Charles Gray was once a leading member of our community. About ten years ago his wife died after a long illness. Within a year he had bought twenty acres of marginal land on the edge of town, moved into a travel trailer there, and quit his job. Widow Green doesn't remember that I preach the funeral of Mrs. Gray and how she did everything but drag Charles out by the arm to get him to leave with her. I took Charles back with me to my office for "counselling", drank a cup of coffee with him, and let the crowd leave. I started out for a second cup and turned back to ask him what he wanted in his, which was a signal that Widow Green was still there and to slip out the back door.
Six days a week he is seen pushing his handcart around town, often going into homes and businesses through the back door. What few realize is that he owns one to two thirds of those businesses. Most of those homes he owns and is checking if they need any repairs, help in the garden, food, or medicine. Some of those homes he "forgets" to pick up the rent if they are having a hard time. Occasionally some would try to take advantage of his generosity. They are soon shown the errors of their ways or encouraged to move on.
Widow Green's complaint today was about those girls from the poor side of town being over at Charles' place. I know in spite of the implied improprieties, that the real reason was one of the girls use to work for her at minimum wage. The girls and boys out at Charles' place are learning how to grow, preserve, and prepare fresh food. Widow Green's favorite restaurant in the city is owned and operated by one of the first groups of 'those girls'. It's name is "The Gray Owl" after the nickname they had for their mentor. Most of the food that is harvested and preserved, beside what they take home as partial payment for their work, goes to the community food bank.
That community food bank was a lifesaver last winter. The valley our community is in has only one way in or out by car or truck. The snow storm was much more severe than expected. The trucks that supply the town were snowed out. The state was busy with the interstate and cities, telling us it would be two or three weeks before they could do more than emergency flights to the hospital if there is no more snow. The morning after the snow stopped there were lines outside all three of the grocery stores. The managers made panic calls to the only owner they could reach, Mr. Gray. They were instructed to put up signs saying no more than ten items per household and no more than two items the same. No more customers than there were store employees, more people could come in as others left. There were complaints from some panic buyers and from some that wanted it all for themselves. Word got around when a checker was fired and customer was banned for taking a bribe for extra items. Even with the limits, shelves started to empty by the third day. The stores didn't open on the fifth day, with a sign saying the staples remaining had been transferred to the community kitchen in the senior center that had been the old high school. They would open from one till six for non food items. All the "Owlets" showed up at the senior center at eight to put away the food from the stores. Through the next weeks they made and served a lot of meals based on beans, rice, pasta, potatoes, and other staples were served to increasing numbers of people. The only two major problem were when an express line was set up for emergency and utility workers and when Widow Green tried to appoint herself quality and quantity director of the kitchen. The first problem was solved when the complainer was told she could use the express line after she worked a shift with the utility workers. Widow Green stopped going into the kitchen after a few of the girls would say "show me how you want it done" and walk off leaving her to do the serving.
When the road was finally cleared there was mixed emotions. Glad to be able to leave or get supplies in, sad because the meals with fresh whole wheat bread and pasta that were prepared with love were soon to end. When the flour and pasta started running out, Mr. Gray and a few other prepared people donated from their long term storage supplies. The suppliers all said it let them rotate out some of their stocks and still give them a tax credit for their donations.
There were some good changes in our community since last winter. Even though they usually only sell one or two sets a season, the hardware store had to reorder pressure canners, grain grinders, and pasta makers three times this year. The pasta maker and grain grinder were left at the senior center and were available for use with some provisions. A teaching video must be watched by the user, the equipment must be cleaned after use, and one fourth of the finished product must be donated to the senior center. When the word got around that the Co-Op was taking orders to make a bulk order of grain the locals ordered enough to fill a semi trailer. The Co-Op began to carry Mylar bags, oxygen absorbers, and food grade buckets.
As to poor Mr. Gray, he keeps on being friends to many. Without being told his friends keep what he does private as he would like it. With the businesses, most don't know his involvement with the others. The only people that know the full extent of his dealings are his accountant and myself. He was a strong believer in the right hand not knowing what the left was doing.
Poor Mr. Gray didn't live in the travel trailer but a few months while he had a earth sheltered home built. With the entrance facing away from the road, if you didn't know it was there, you wouldn't notice it. The unusual floor space made it one of the largest single dwellings in the area. Charles actually lived in a few rooms, much of the space given over to storage and space for his 'owlets' to learn and work. Speaking of the 'owlets', that's what they call themselves, Charles Gray calls them his pride and joy, next month is the annual "Owl Roost". It is a celebration and saying goodbye to the students that are graduating. This year we are welcoming back one that is returning home. She is the newest member of the Agricultural Extension Office in charge of the 4-H. Another 'owlet' returning is on leave, he is over the kitchens of the Pentagon. The younger members prepare a dinner for the graduates, parents, former students, and special guests. I'm glad I am invited again, it's one of the best meals I get all year. It's not the ingredients, even as fresh and quality as they are. It's not the technique, even though it is flawless. It is the love put in it, love of cooking and love for the ones served.
If poor Mr. Gray lost all his material goods, he still would be rich with love and respect of most of the people that really know him. Unlike people like poor Widow Green, that are important only to themselves and other shallow people.
Six days a week he is seen pushing his handcart around town, often going into homes and businesses through the back door. What few realize is that he owns one to two thirds of those businesses. Most of those homes he owns and is checking if they need any repairs, help in the garden, food, or medicine. Some of those homes he "forgets" to pick up the rent if they are having a hard time. Occasionally some would try to take advantage of his generosity. They are soon shown the errors of their ways or encouraged to move on.
Widow Green's complaint today was about those girls from the poor side of town being over at Charles' place. I know in spite of the implied improprieties, that the real reason was one of the girls use to work for her at minimum wage. The girls and boys out at Charles' place are learning how to grow, preserve, and prepare fresh food. Widow Green's favorite restaurant in the city is owned and operated by one of the first groups of 'those girls'. It's name is "The Gray Owl" after the nickname they had for their mentor. Most of the food that is harvested and preserved, beside what they take home as partial payment for their work, goes to the community food bank.
That community food bank was a lifesaver last winter. The valley our community is in has only one way in or out by car or truck. The snow storm was much more severe than expected. The trucks that supply the town were snowed out. The state was busy with the interstate and cities, telling us it would be two or three weeks before they could do more than emergency flights to the hospital if there is no more snow. The morning after the snow stopped there were lines outside all three of the grocery stores. The managers made panic calls to the only owner they could reach, Mr. Gray. They were instructed to put up signs saying no more than ten items per household and no more than two items the same. No more customers than there were store employees, more people could come in as others left. There were complaints from some panic buyers and from some that wanted it all for themselves. Word got around when a checker was fired and customer was banned for taking a bribe for extra items. Even with the limits, shelves started to empty by the third day. The stores didn't open on the fifth day, with a sign saying the staples remaining had been transferred to the community kitchen in the senior center that had been the old high school. They would open from one till six for non food items. All the "Owlets" showed up at the senior center at eight to put away the food from the stores. Through the next weeks they made and served a lot of meals based on beans, rice, pasta, potatoes, and other staples were served to increasing numbers of people. The only two major problem were when an express line was set up for emergency and utility workers and when Widow Green tried to appoint herself quality and quantity director of the kitchen. The first problem was solved when the complainer was told she could use the express line after she worked a shift with the utility workers. Widow Green stopped going into the kitchen after a few of the girls would say "show me how you want it done" and walk off leaving her to do the serving.
When the road was finally cleared there was mixed emotions. Glad to be able to leave or get supplies in, sad because the meals with fresh whole wheat bread and pasta that were prepared with love were soon to end. When the flour and pasta started running out, Mr. Gray and a few other prepared people donated from their long term storage supplies. The suppliers all said it let them rotate out some of their stocks and still give them a tax credit for their donations.
There were some good changes in our community since last winter. Even though they usually only sell one or two sets a season, the hardware store had to reorder pressure canners, grain grinders, and pasta makers three times this year. The pasta maker and grain grinder were left at the senior center and were available for use with some provisions. A teaching video must be watched by the user, the equipment must be cleaned after use, and one fourth of the finished product must be donated to the senior center. When the word got around that the Co-Op was taking orders to make a bulk order of grain the locals ordered enough to fill a semi trailer. The Co-Op began to carry Mylar bags, oxygen absorbers, and food grade buckets.
As to poor Mr. Gray, he keeps on being friends to many. Without being told his friends keep what he does private as he would like it. With the businesses, most don't know his involvement with the others. The only people that know the full extent of his dealings are his accountant and myself. He was a strong believer in the right hand not knowing what the left was doing.
Poor Mr. Gray didn't live in the travel trailer but a few months while he had a earth sheltered home built. With the entrance facing away from the road, if you didn't know it was there, you wouldn't notice it. The unusual floor space made it one of the largest single dwellings in the area. Charles actually lived in a few rooms, much of the space given over to storage and space for his 'owlets' to learn and work. Speaking of the 'owlets', that's what they call themselves, Charles Gray calls them his pride and joy, next month is the annual "Owl Roost". It is a celebration and saying goodbye to the students that are graduating. This year we are welcoming back one that is returning home. She is the newest member of the Agricultural Extension Office in charge of the 4-H. Another 'owlet' returning is on leave, he is over the kitchens of the Pentagon. The younger members prepare a dinner for the graduates, parents, former students, and special guests. I'm glad I am invited again, it's one of the best meals I get all year. It's not the ingredients, even as fresh and quality as they are. It's not the technique, even though it is flawless. It is the love put in it, love of cooking and love for the ones served.
If poor Mr. Gray lost all his material goods, he still would be rich with love and respect of most of the people that really know him. Unlike people like poor Widow Green, that are important only to themselves and other shallow people.
