Bill looked at Sharon and she could see that there was excitement. She was so thankful that this new spirit was taking hold of Bill. Sharon looked at Bill and said, “Bill, I think this is what we have been looking for, but it is your decision.”
So here it was, Bill thought. After so much wondering, so much anger, here it was. Should he think about it? No, that was the practical Bill returning, the one who measured his responses, wondering what others thought. No, things were going to be different. He had destroyed that wreath without thinking and contrary to what so many said Bill saw the act as one of the few courageous things he had ever done. No, this was not the time for caution.
“I accept.” Bill said.
Sal and Maria looked at each other, smiled and said, “God bless you, Bill. This is where you belong.”
Vince added, “I am glad that you said that. Next week we can meet to work out details. Sal will stay on for several months to help train you. Maria will be working with Sophia to teach her to run the kitchen. Let’s have another bottle of wine and celebrate!”
And with that Bill Thompson found himself where he always knew he should be. He was in the trenches, where the forgotten lived, living out the love of God in reality. It was the best Christmas ever.
Bill and Sharon took a long walk later that day. They walked and talked, as they had not done for too long. They expressed their love for each other. They again apologized. They again hugged. They also thought about getting something special for their dog Jerry. It was he, after all who had found and opened the package with the three soup labels. They both began to laugh about the antics of their clumsy but lovable dog.
“Angels come in strange ways,” Sharon said. “Perhaps Jerry has always been watching over us both.”
They made their way back home.
During the next year Bill’s life changed. He lost even more weight. His almost daily jog coupled with regular workouts toned him and made him look younger. His doctor was thrilled that the “new” Bill reduced his cholesterol, lowered his blood pressure and got off of most of his medication. Bill loved going to the mission, to work. Sharon loved the “new” Bill; actually the old Bill reborn.
Sal and Maria retired by summer. Reverend Bill had moved into leadership with the same spirit of Sal and Maria. Bill always greeted the guests and residents with a smile. He never put down a person because of their situation or lifestyle. And he insisted that the same level of respect be shown by everyone toward everyone. Sophia had taken over the kitchen duties, expanding the menu by introducing more healthy food purchased at a generous discount from the new organic market that had opened in Maysville. For Sophia what you ate was as important as what you did.
Larry had also blossomed over the year. He re-grew his beard and tied his long hair into a ponytail. His construction skills were transforming the Mission. Work had begun on the third floor apartment transforming the area into smaller apartments that homeless families could stay in while they were putting their lives back together.
Lisa was doing well in college. Robby seemed to be visiting more often. His father’s new vocation was especially interesting to Robby. He had disliked the Church, but at the mission the principles of love seemed to be blossoming.
Bill had managed to expand the visits of local physicians, dentists, and counselors to the mission. The United Way and several other local organizations had actually increased their support, especially medical services. Bill’s newest innovation had been to add financial counselors and employment counselors to help people rise from the depths of despair to hope.
Some in the business community were enthusiastic in their support while others were not. Because of the downturn economically, there was an increase in people seeking help at the mission. Community resources were always stressed but now the strain was causing real problems.
During that first summer, Bill hit upon an idea that seemed to attract the attention of many within the larger community. During an interview about the mission with the local newspaper, Bill had told the story of “The Three Cans of Soup”. The paper asked him to do an expanded version of the story. Other papers picked up the story. This led to several interviews on local radio and television. In the fall, Bill published the story in a national magazine as part of a major piece called “Poverty in America”. This led to an increase in awareness and giving to the mission. Bill was able to incorporate the story of the “Three Cans of Soup” into a brochure and plaque that graced the entrance of the Mission. The phrase “Where One Gift Leads to Another” was added to the sign above the Mission.
So it was that as another Christmas approached, Bill and his family were counting blessings. Bill had even been asked by his denomination to talk about the subject of homelessness and poverty.
Yet, something was bothering Bill. Many civic leaders were hesitant in their support, as though someone was behind the scenes, pushing against the mission. Bill decided that he needed to talk to Sal.
Sal and Maria had retired and moved to a community near Kansas City. Over the last few months Sal’s health had deteriorated. Sal had discovered that he had prostate cancer and the prognosis was not good. It was a beautiful fall day when Bill drove to Kansas City.
Arriving at their modest home, Bill parked in the driveway. He slowly got out and made his way to the door. “I have not been very good at keeping in contact,” he thought to himself as he got to the door and rang the bell. Before he could think another such thought the door burst open and a smiling Maria hugged him.
“He is not doing too well, although he won’t admit it,” Maria said quietly as she took Bill’s coat and motioned for him to be seated.
“How are the treatments going?”
“They are hard on him but we hope they will help. We may be looking at hospice soon,” Maria said through tears.
“I am so sorry.” Bill gave her a hug.
From the bedroom Bill saw Sal emerge, walking slowly, pushing an oxygen tank ahead of him. Bill noted how much older Sal looked.
“Bill, Bill,” Sal said reaching out to give Bill a hug. “So good to see you.”
Maria helped Sal as he sat in a chair and rearranged the oxygen.
“This thing is something else,” Sal said readjusting the oxygen. “I have heard such wonderful things about the mission and the changes you have made. You were quite famous recently with that TV thing and all those articles. I was so proud!”
Maria got up and went into the kitchen, emerging a few moments later with hot tea and cookies; homemade, of course.
“I am so sorry to see you like this,” Bill said. “How are you doing, really?”
“It does not look good,” Sal said. “We all have our time and I have had a very good life. What more can you do than help people and see your dream grow into what it did.”
“Surely, the treatment will help,” Bill said, more to interject some hope. “We all die,” Sal said philosophically. “The real point is how we live.”
“How is Sharon doing?” Maria interjected, changing the subject.
“Fine, we both are doing fine.” Bill paused and then decided to be more truthful. “Actually there is a little problem.”
“Problem?” Sal and Maria said together.
“Oh, not with the mission or with Sharon and me,” Bill said pausing. Then he shared his concerns, noting how some in the business community seemed supportive but then held back as though something else was going on.
Sal settled back in the chair. ‘Let me tell you a story.” He continued after a bite of cookie. “Many years ago some people approached me with the idea of running for public office. They said they would be willing to back me. I was, to be honest, honored. I imagined myself becoming a councilman, then maybe a representative to the state House.”
“So what happened,” Bill asked? “Did you win?”
“No, I dropped the idea,” Sal said pausing. “You know that some things seem too good to be true and they turn out to be just that. I began to ask why I had been approached—what was the motive. Then one day while I was talking to Benny Lewis, he let it slip. The council position paid some but not enough. Mr. Lewis offered me a job with his company should I accept the nomination and guaranteed that he would grant me the time off I needed to do my job. He offered me much more than what I was getting at the Mission. It just was too good to be true. Honestly, for a few moments I considered it.”
“Not too much,” Maria interjected. “Sal considered it for the family but I straightened that out right away.” There was intensity in her comment that Bill had not seen before. “I told Sal that all I wanted was for he and our family to be doing something good, serving God and I was just suspicious!”
Sal laughed. “Yes she really was. I think she saw through the offer before I did.” Taking a sip of tea Sal continued.
“Well one day an angel came to visit me.”
“An angel?” Bill said.
“Yes, one of those angels God sends our way if we are listening. This angel was the minister of Central Church, Joe Reed.”
Bill paused and remembered seeing Joseph Reed’s picture in the hallway with the portraits of other ministers. What had impressed him was how short his ministry had been. When his own ministry had ended so abruptly, Bill had wondered if Reverend Reed had had similar problems.
“Yes, Joseph Reed. He was at Central many years before me. He also had a short ministry.”
Sal looked troubled. “I fear it was because of what he told me that his ministry was so short. He never said but I always wondered. He resigned about three months after he told me some things.”
“What things?” Bill asked.
Looking right at Bill he said, “It was about Mr. Lewis. It seems that Mr. Lewis had some grand plans of his own. He had plans for buying up a lot of land and buildings including the Second Street Mission. He felt that he could develop the area into Condos and shops and this would make him very, very rich.”
“He is rich!” Bill interrupted.
“Oh, much richer than he is today. Mr. Lewis wanted to belong to the exclusive club of the very rich. He wanted to be a mover and shaker in state politics. He wanted to have the kind of money that would generate more money and more influence.”
“And?”
“And the mission was standing in his way.”
Bill began to see. It all began to fit. Why Benny had been gracious in other areas but seemed not to be gracious about the mission had never added up.
“Anyway,” Sal continued, “Joe told me that the plan was to get me away from the mission, into politics or being offered a good job and that would open the way for Mr. Lewis to close the mission, buy up the buildings and build his little empire. After Joe left it all made sense. It fit. Mr. Lewis had no love for the poor, no matter what he said. I knew that I had to remain at the mission, it was my calling in this confusing world.”
“So how did Benny—Mr. Lewis—react?” Bill asked.
Maria spoke up. “Well, it has been a struggle. But a lot of other people were so supportive that there was not a lot Mr. Lewis could do. He kept trying to find something on Sal, start rumors about Sal and me; you know the stuff the Devil does. That Mr. Lewis is evil, pure evil.”
“I don’t know if I would use that term. . .” Bill said but before he could finish Sal interrupted.
“Bill, I don’t use that term much. I tend to think, as you know, that every person has the light of God inside and all we have to do is nurture that light, encourage it. But, every once in a while the real thing comes along—evil I mean. I have watched Mr. Lewis operate, what he did to Reverend Reed, Reverend Elliott and you—it is evil!”
Maria interrupted, “Mr. Lewis has never forgiven Sal for staying on. He knew that with Sal at the mission he couldn’t touch it. He has never given up his dream and has passed it on to his son. As we were getting older we talked often about what would happen to the mission if something happened to us or we just got too old to protect it any longer.”
Maria reached over and patted Bill’s hand. “And then you came in that one evening and we knew there was someone who would protect these people when we were gone.”
Bill looked at both of them. Sal and Maria had always had a spirit that just emanated from them to others. They had saved so many, including him. He remembered something a professor had said to him once before. Bill had been very frustrated with their calling at the nursing home for the poor when he was taking the course in seminary on poverty.
“We just come down here for a few hours once a week. There is so much more that could be done,” Bill had said.
The professor, whose name Bill had long forgotten, just looked at him and said, “But for that one hour you make a real difference. Just think what their days would be like if no one came to see them. That is the way it happens: one hour, one minute, and one person at a time. We do our best and trust that God will fill in the gaps. Those people probably wait all week for your visits. It is about all they have to look forward to.”
Bill said his goodbyes and prepared to leave to return to Maysville. He now knew what he needed to do. He also had to thank Mary Pond once again. Three cans of soup given in love had touched so many lives, many more than Mary would ever realize. Each person he had helped or would help would demonstrate that sometimes a gift is more than we can ever imagine.
Before he left, Bill turned to Sal and gave him another hug. As Maria walked him to the door Bill told her that if she ever needed anything she was to call him, right away. Then he headed back to Maysville.
Christmas that year was beautiful. A light snow fell on Maysville. The mission looked more festive than ever. Robby and Lisa again joined Sharon and Bill at the mission. Robby even shared with his father how he had volunteered at a similar mission in St. Louis. Lisa was still at college. She told her parents about how she had organized students to volunteer at local nursing homes and at a local mission in Columbia.
The Mission had changed. Robby and Lisa noted the physical changes, but they also noticed how their dad seemed to be at the center of things, shaking hands, giving hugs, serving up food, and seemed to know everyone by name. There were some very rough-looking people who seemed to soften when they talked to their father.