Thoughtful Moments

Bay of Plenty Beacon, Volume 5, Issue 22, 27 February 1942, Page 2

Thoughtful Moments

(Supplied by ilic Whakatai AT THE PARSONAGE DOOR Most ministers (also their wives!) ;ire familiar with the man who wants ''the fare home"'—and sad experience teaches us that such (oik are to be treated with a certain amount of circumspection. Seine of them are adepts at a variation of the confidence trick, as, lor example, Thomas Evans (that wasn't his name) who called on me one day. A soon as I opened the door, he greeted me. with a glad smile of recognition and an outstretched hand, "Ah, Mr Everson!" he exclaimed, "it's a long time since we met, isn't it?" A minister meets so many people that 1 am never surprised to Jind that 1 have lorgotten a lace, said thinking this was another case where my memory had played a trick. I returned his greeting and asked him in. "But surely you remember me—Tom Evans —in the old Cardiff days?" "No," J said, "I'm sorry, but really I don't." Then he worked his ''trick." He named several prominent members of my old Church in Cardiff (such names are easily obtained from a "circuit plan") and then mentioned the name of my successor, who, he said, had given him my address, with the suggestion that he should call on me. He had not intended worrying me but. most unluckily he had lost his wallet, and had no means of returning to CardilV. Would I be good 'enough to let him have enough money to j buy his ticket home? He would, of : eoursc, return it as soon as he reached Cardiff.. But one learns a little wisdom in the course of vears. And, as he now professed to he a keen Methodist, i let him talk. Every Church and every profession lias its own particular shibboleths winch soon betray [he deceiver! "Why, yes!" lie said. "Been a Methodist all my life—my father was a !ay-prca?her and deacon at !'runs wick, Sheffield!" "Brunswick" was all right—but no life-long Methodist would speak of a "lay-preacher", and, while wc have our "stewards," wc have ne> deacons. My suspicions were aroused, and I let him ta'k on. "One of our best friends at Sheffield was the Methodist vicar . . ." That, of course, was conclusive. He really should have known his "patter" better than to refer to a Methodist vicar! I assured him that the police would be glad to help him — and bade him good morning! Davc3 T Llewellyn was a caller of another, and pleasantcr kind. He was down-at-heel, badly in need of

OUR SUNDAY MESSAGE

ne Ministers' Association). a shave —but entirely cheerful, and apparently prepared to take life as it came. That was the curious thing about Davey—he made no attempt to play upon my sympathy. He told me quite simply that he was hard up, and, having once been to a Methodist Sunday School, thought he'd ca 1 ! on the minister of the next Methodist Church he passed. If 1 could help him. he'd be grateful, but if not, he'd manage somehow! "Been to church lately?" T asked. "Haven't been for years!'' be said with a disarming smile. "Not since I was a youngster." "Have yon any money?" "Threepence ha'penny," said Davey, Avith the air of one who hadn't a care in the world. "Well, what can I do for you?" I asked. "Shall we try to get you a job here, or would you like to give me time to write to your family?" Davey smiled more broadly still"There's no work around here 'for fifty miles, and I don't know where my family arc living. Really I don't see what you can do." "Suppose," I said. "I gave you five shillings-: would that help?" "Oh, yes," replied Davey. "That would certainly help—but don't if .you can't afford it. I'm not the only one who's hard up." "T think T can manage it." I said. "Anyhow, you haven't tried to pitch a tale." "No," remarked Davey, 'I've found it's a waste of time! Besides, you need to be clever for that—and I'm net too bright, they tell me." ' "Well, here's five shillings," I said. "But before you go, tell me how you manage to keep so cheerful." He dived into an inner pocket. "That's the very thing to keep you cheerful," he said. It was a very old, tattered copy e-f the New Testament. "I'm like St. Paul," he went on. "I've got nothing, but I possess every tiling." And with another little flourish lie put the Testament back in his pocket. "Cod looks after me," lie said. Then looking round , the room with cheerful interest, he noticed a bowl of roses. "Aren't they luff'.y?" he said. I showed my cheerful tramp to the door. There, on the step, lie paused for a moment. "Thank you, minister! Thank you very much." Then he tapped his breast pocket. "I've read it through twenty-six times. Have you? Never mind, I have." And still smiling as ijf he hadn't a care in the world, Davey went off to> face life again on five shillings and a New Testament. Many indeed think of being happy with (rod in heaven, but the being ' happy in God on earth never enters into their thought.