Pinwheel in Faith

“Absolutely, Janie. The church cares for every member of the flock. Please see Annie on your way out.”

“Bless you, Pastor Marcus. This is going to be fun.”

Janie went to the door of the church and used her key fob to start the car warming, She went Annie's desk. “Hi Annie. Marcus said I should stop by. How are you?”

Annie smiled coyly as she retrieved an envelope from the top right drawer. “I’m doing great, Janie. Here’s the key to the room. I mentioned the request ahead of time. Pastor Marcus asked me to add something from the congregation,” she said, holding out the envelope.

“Oh?” Janie reached for the envelope, but Annie pulled it back.

“I get one of your pinwheel cookies?” she asked, holding the envelope out and laughing.

“You know it. Thank you, sister,” she said, taking the envelope. She peeked inside to see the congregation’s contribution. Janie smiled, holding back tears.

Annie smiled. “I’m looking forward to being there! Have you invited her?”

“Going to right now. Just getting in my car first. It should be warm by now.” She tucked the envelope in her jacket, zipped up the jacket, and put on her gloves.

Janie wasn’t sure a cookie exchange was even a thing, but nothing better had come to mind. She needed to get Paula and her kids out of the house, and Maryann’s suggestion seemed perfect—Paula’s kids love cookies. Is there anyone who doesn’t?

Shaking the snow off, Janie climbed in her car. It was time. She called Paula.

“What are you doing on the 21st? Please say nothing because we have something you and the kids will love.”

“Oh, really?” She laughed. “We didn’t have anything going on, and my kids love playing with yours. What is it?”

“A cookie exchange. Everyone is making their favorite cookie to share.”

Paula sighed. “Thank you for inviting us, but—”

“Don’t say it. You’re making them with me. My place at 2, ok?”

“Sure. Thank you, Janie. It means a lot to me.” She was trying to sound upbeat, but Janie knew it was hard. It was tough to imagine the ingredients for cookies being too expensive.

“I’ll pick you and the kids up. Bless you, sister.” Janie hung up. This time the she didn’t hold back the few tears—both of joy and heartbreak. She wiped them away, setting her mind to going shopping. She had all the ingredients for her pinwheel cookies except for dates and pecans, and she needed to take care of the congregation’s present.

#

December is a ridiculous month to throw parties. Just looking at the snow was enough to make a fire look more inviting than a party. Leaving to get others for a party, bringing them to your house… she praised the Lord for the opportunity. She shivered, then felt shame as Paula, Betty, Johnathan, and Susan scuttled out in jackets half as thick as hers. They didn’t shiver as they raced past her to the car—they bounced with excitement, joy. Even Paula, who did not run, was excited.

The three kids crawled into the back of the car. Paula scolded them for piling up on top of each other as they settled down, buckling in.

“Cookies!”

“What kind?”

“How many do we get? Oh, and is that each?”

“What flavor? Are they big? Like gigantic?”

After situating herself in the car, Janie looked in the rearview mirror and held up a finger, waiting for the kids to hush each other. “There are more cookies than you have fingers. More flavors than you have tastebuds. But …” She paused just long enough for a dramatic effect which an actress would envy for its affect. “If you are too hyper, they will taste like mud. The really yucky kind.”

Paula whispered a thank you. Betty, the oldest, snickered, but groaned as she was pelted with demands to explain what tastebuds do, how to feel them, and how they make yucky mud.

“What are you and the kids doing for Christmas,” Janie asked under the racket of the children.

“He hasn’t paid child support for months,” Paula said, her face an awkward image of anger smeared over with pain. “I can’t ask my mom and dad to help again. They’ll probably send a few things. I’ll figure it out somehow. I always do.” Her half-hearted confidence grated on Janie’s spirit. She would do something for Paula, for the kids.

“With the Lord, anything is possible,” she said. Paula nodded with twinkle of hope, hope that something would “somehow” happen. “So, have you ever made Date Nut Pinwheel Cookies?”

Paula shook her head, relieved at the opportunity to ignore her own life for a moment. “Sugar cookies and chocolate chip are about it for me.”

“Well, you’re going to love these. They’re like a pinwheel, turned—Oh, just a minute. I need to text Al… OK Google. Text husband, ‘On our way.’”

By the time they arrived at Janie’s, the kids had fallen asleep. Janie helped Paula haul out the youngest two and set them down on the couch next to the fire.

#

“Where’s Al?” Paula asked.

“Oh, I told him to leave the women to women’s stuff. He’s probably out doing men’s stuff,” she said, laughing as she turned to face the kitchen. “Don’t tell him that Andrew is over making cookies. Al might think I was just trying to get him out of the house. I have no idea when that man thought I would let anything be women’s stuff or man’s stuff, but if he were here cooking, he’d make cookies in the microwave.” They shared an amused look, made sure Betty had something to do—a book by the fire was all she wanted—and then it was off to the kitchen.

As the cookies were baking, others from the church showed up, bringing an array of cookies. Johnathan and Susan didn’t even try containing their excitement and getting at least one of each cookie. Betty remained aloof; she sat on the couch, enjoying the book and the fire. Johnathan and Susan made sure Betty had plenty of cookies, until her chastising finally deterred them, and they switched to playing with Janie’s kids.

“I thought we were doing this at the church,” Paula said.

“Too cold. And, there’s a fire here.”

“Andrew! You bake? I guess the story about women’s stuff was just that—a story,” Al said, stomping the snow off his boots, peeling off his jacket, then kissing Janie. Their children attacked his legs in search of the biggest hug. He set a key down on a side table, and picked them up. “Well, it’s done,” he said.

“Yes, it is. And you’re late,” Janie said. She scowled at him. What was he thinking?

“Oh, right. Sorry about that,” Al added. Good. He got the point. “Milk? Which is the best?” Al laughed as the entire group turned to him, half scowling, the other half surprised at the audacity of such a question.

He grabbed a nearby cookie and took a bite far too large for his mouth.

The cookie exchange ended shortly after Al arrived, and Janie took Paula and the kids home. At their house, Paula looked into the rearview mirror with her finger signaling silence. The kids settled. “Now, you kids wait here.”

She went to the trunk, and came back, opening the door on Betty’s side. She held out the book she’d been reading. “A book is better when you finish it,” she said. Betty gasped, taking the book, and gave thanks. She headed into the house, nose buried in the book.

Johnathan was next. He was already eager, biting his upper lip to stay quiet. Janie held out a space shuttle. “Now you can go to the stars with your imagination.” He grabbed it and ran off, forgetting to say thank you, but swooping the space shuttle in circles and making airplane sounds.

Susan blushed before seeing her present. Her timidity was so cute. When Janie held out a doll, Susan gasped. “For me?” She squealed, squeezing the doll tightly, and running her fingers through its hair. Before she rounded the back of the car, the doll had a name: Beatrice.

Standing to the side and watching, Paula's tears washed away her sadness. She mouthed, “Thank you.”

Janie managed to laugh. “Oh, no. Something for you, from all of us.” She handed Paula an envelope.

Paula opened it like she was afraid of what was inside. She pulled out one of the papers and smiled. “One from each of the sisters. A free night of baby sitting. There’s $100 in there too.”

Overcome, Paula hugged Janie, the bite of the air on her tear-coated face was nothing compared to the warmth and love she felt. “Thank you. God bless you.”

“MOM!” came a dual scream from Johnathan and Susan, standing at the door to the house. Betty stood looking back and forth from the house to her mother, crying.

Paula’s look at Janie begged for forgiveness as she ran to the house, almost slipping twice.

Janie headed home before Paula could come out.

#

“How did it go? Were they happy?”

“The oldest two cried, the youngest two screamed,” Janie said.

The group smiled, praised the Lord, and shared stories of when others had helped them. All of them would say that they had no idea what Paula was talking about when she brought up the presents under their tree. It wasn’t about them, and they didn’t do it for praise. They did it to give a family some Christmas cheer, to care for a friend, and to follow the example of their Lord.