Touched by Miss Maggie’s love
By Kathy Yoder
They come from far and near.
Some traveling thousands of miles by planes, trains and interstates. Some
driving through winding hills and back roads. Some walking a few blocks.
They come from tiny towns that aren’t on any map to cities so big it takes a
lifetime to find an exit. They come from foreign countries and they come from
next door.
They come from every station of life. From the kingly to the pauper.
The outgoing to the shy. There are politicians, celebrities, ordinary people.
The pampered. The ignored. Homeless souls trying to find their way back. The
proud who’ve become humble, and the humble who’ve found a little pride.
But, most of all, there are
children. And the children who aren’t children any more were children when their
lives were changed by Miss Maggie’s love, who’s gone home for good.
Shawn, a stranger passing through town, thinks he’s stumbled onto the funeral of
a famous actor or some other celebrity.
He pulls off the
interstate for gas and coffee, but everywhere he looks there are signs that say,
“Closed for Funeral.”
Shawn’s eyes follow the crowds. He looks for an enormous church, but instead
sees a beautiful, white-clapboard structure with a tall steeple that touches the
clouds.
Looking up, Shawn notices the mountains for the first time. “They look like
giant blueberries,” he says to himself.
He looks at the sign: “Blueberry Mountain Community Church. Welcome Home.”
Goosebumps travel from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. Shawn hasn’t
felt at home for a long time.
He squeezes into the small church without knowing why. It’s been years since
he’s been inside one. Expecting to see hundreds of fancy flower arrangements, he
sees one vase filled with white daisies. A picture next to the coffin shows an
elderly woman smiling, surrounded by children. Out of nowhere, children walk up
front and lay hundreds of freshly picked dandelions on the coffin. The flowers
smell like summer released from a jar — warm, sweet, dusty, filled with
possibilities. The flowers give the casket a golden glow.
A choir sings. “Must be a CD,” thinks Shawn, as he looks around for the singers.
“It’s beautiful.”
The crowd thinks the same thing: “The singing sounds like angels.”
What they don’t know, and only the smallest children can see, is that the angels
themselves came to sing this woman home.
As he walks up to the pulpit, Pastor Jake thinks to himself, “I’ve never seen a
larger funeral.”
Smiling, he thinks of Miss Maggie.
“Miss Maggie was not famous,” begins Pastor Jake. “She was not wealthy. Books
will not be written about her. Streets will not carry her name. She’ll never be
referred to as a star or an important person. At least not by the world’s
standards.
“By the world’s standards, she was ordinary, poor, unimportant. But look how
many people are here today to honor her? Did she touch the hearts of every
single person here today?
“We are not members of her fan club. Yet, we belong to a very select club. We
are the ones who knew Miss Maggie and loved her. We are the ones she touched
with her unending good cheer, compassion and selfless love. How many of you met
Miss Maggie as a child? How many of you did she feed? How many ate her chocolate
chip cookies?”
People chuckle and smack their lips.
“How many of you did she look at with those penetrating brown eyes that
commanded you to tell the truth? How many of you found Jesus in those brown
eyes? How many of you will really miss her, but know you’ll see her in Heaven
one day?”
Pastor Jake looks down as he speaks because he knows the tears filling his eyes
will spill over if he doesn’t. But he hears a rustle and looks up. Every single
person at Miss Maggie’s funeral is standing up.
“How many of you would like to thank God right now for Miss Maggie?”
And the entire church shakes from thunderous applause.
Even Shawn the stranger finds himself clapping. He realizes that even though he
never knew Miss Maggie, he’s been touched by her. And for the final of
many times in his life he thinks, “I want to know Jesus.”
But this time, he asks Jesus into his heart.
And even though only the smallest children can see them, Shawn thinks he hears
the thunderous applause of angels.
And, of course, he does.
