Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
“Hi, Grandma,” Nelly said as she walked in the door, setting her school bag down. She had papers to correct, but it was a fairly short quiz and shouldn’t take her too long. She had been able to use her planning period to get caught up on everything else and get ready for tomorrow.
She had found herself having a little bit of trouble concentrating in class today. After all, she was nervous and excited, and a little bit scared. Would the Secret Saint accept her invitation?
And was that a wise invitation to issue?
She thought about how well they had worked together and how his skills seemed to complement hers.
He had the big hands of a working man, and there were so many things that a Secret Saint could do, like fixing a porch, changing the oil in cars, and even putting on a new roof.
Plus, he was much better at carrying firewood than she was, and he was probably better at getting it too.
She was better at groceries, gifts for kids, and organizing everything.
She really hoped that they could combine their skills, and perhaps instead of one plus one equaling two, they could multiply what they could do.
She had thought long and hard about issuing the invitation and had finally decided that even though there were a lot of cons, the benefits would be astronomical if they turned out to be even a little bit of what she hoped they could be.
But there was the danger that he would try to unmask her.
Even if he didn’t physically try, he might ask her to pull her hood down so he could see, and she was determined that she would not do it.
It was important that she keep her identity a secret.
She didn’t want anyone in her classroom thinking that she was playing favorites with any of her students if she did Secret Saint activities for some of her students and not for all of them.
Some of them didn’t need it. But that might not stop them from becoming offended or from accusing her of not being a fair teacher.
She didn’t want it to affect her classroom at all. Those students were the most important thing in the world to her, after her grandmother.
“I had a wonderful day, Gram. How are you?” she asked, holding her breath a little because her grandma had had a lot of really good days, and Nelly was afraid that a bad day was coming.
“I’m fantastic. I heard you whistling this morning when you first got up. You always seem to be really happy after you’ve been out running around doing that stuff you’ve talked about.”
She had often wished that she hadn’t shared with her grandmother what she was doing, but because her gram kept such odd hours and was up often in the middle of the night, she had felt like it was something that she probably had to do.
But with her grandma’s failing faculties, she was afraid that her grandma might accidentally let it slip. She knew, with an absolute certainty, that it was something her gram in her normal life would never have allowed to come out.
“Remember that you’re not allowed to talk to anyone about that,” she said gently, putting an arm around her gram and giving her a hug.
“I know. It’s called the Secret Saint because you want to keep it a secret.” Her gram lifted a brow and spoke with humor. “But what you don’t realize is back when I was growing up, there was a Secret Saint.”
“There was?” Her gram was right—she hadn’t realized.
“I wasn’t very little. But maybe about the time I had my own children, we had one year where my husband was off work because he had the flu.
Back then, we didn’t get paid at all while he was off, after he used up all of his vacation.
And I knew Christmas was going to be tight.
But the Secret Saint came along and gave us an entire box of gifts that I could wrap up for my children.
Somehow, they knew exactly what each kid wanted and had gotten everything on their list. I have no idea how they found out that information.
I had only confided in a few people, and none of them were the Secret Saint, I was sure of it.
They included a sweet note, and Christmas was really nice that year, because of someone’s generosity. ”
“Was the note signed ‘the Secret Saint’?”
“It was. But either we didn’t talk about those things back then, or the Secret Saint didn’t do much work, because I never heard of anyone else getting anything like that that year.
Maybe they just did one thing every year, because after that, I did keep an eye out to see if anything happened to anyone else.
The words ‘Secret Saint’ had glued themselves into my brain, and my ears would perk up if I even heard something that sounded similar. ”
“And did you?” Nelly asked, amazed that there was a history of the Secret Saint. She had never heard about this before.
“I did. About once a year—it wasn’t even always at Christmas—I would hear something that happened to someone.
And then, oh goodness, it must have been about twenty years after that—twenty years ago—when it stopped completely.
I don’t know if the person died or moved away, or if they just weren’t in a position to be able to do that anymore. ”
“I would really love to know. But I wouldn’t have the first idea of how to start going about trying to figure it out. I mean, who would you even ask? It happened to you, and you have no idea.”
“No. The handwriting was printed, very carefully, like someone didn’t want us to be able to recognize the writing. And everyone’s note looked different. From what I remember, a few of them were typed. And they didn’t always leave a note.”
“Do you think it was a woman?” Nelly asked.
She for some reason just thought it probably was a woman.
Even though the person that she had left the note for last night—she knew that was a man.
Knew it just the way she knew that the sun was in the sky, even though she couldn’t see it.
But it just seemed like the Secret Saint would be a woman’s idea.
“I always thought it was a man. Sometimes the packages were pretty heavy, and I guess I just see men being able to sneak around in the middle of the night better than women anyway. It could be dangerous for a woman to be out in the middle of the night.”
“Not in Mistletoe Meadows. It’s totally safe here.”
“True,” Gram said. “Although you never know.”
She supposed that was true. Bad things could happen to someone anywhere, and it didn’t have to necessarily be a bad person—it could just be stumbling on a bear who was wandering around town, especially one with cubs or something. Or maybe accidentally waking up someone’s dog.
“I just always thought it was a really nice thing to do. When you think about community service and helping others, usually you think about joining an organization and throwing some money at them or donating a few things out of your pantry or your closet. You don’t really think about doing things yourself.
” She paused for a moment. “You know how much you have to look outside of yourself in order to see the needs that are around you to be a Secret Saint?”
Boy, did she ever. She hadn’t paid such close attention to people in her entire life.
She really did have to not only listen to conversations but keep her eyes open for things that people might need.
And then try to figure out what exactly would make them happy.
She didn’t want to give things just for the sake of giving them.
She wanted to give things that were necessary, and wanted, and would be used.
Otherwise, it was just a waste of time and money, wasn’t it?
“Yeah. You really have to focus on others.”
“And that’s why this type of thing is so good.
Most of the time, we can kind of just skate along, doing the least amount possible, pretending to invest ourselves, when we’re really not invested at all.
We’re just doing what we think is a good deed, we pat ourselves on the back, and then we go back to thinking about ourselves and our family and focusing on me, me, me all the time.
It’s not really truly investing in others the way being a Secret Saint is. ”
Now that Nelly had done it, she couldn’t agree more.
“That is the kind of interest that keeps the community together. That is the kind of interest that Christians should show to especially other Christians but to the whole world. It’s the kind of interest that Jesus has in us.”
“And we’re supposed to be like Jesus,” she said.
“Exactly. We are supposed to be like Jesus.”
They had moved into the kitchen by that time and almost had dinner prepped and ready to place on the table.
“You know, I hope you don’t get so involved in your work that you don’t keep an eye out for that special someone. God has someone for you.” Her grandma seemed to be bringing that conversation up from out of nowhere.
Nelly was so shocked she couldn’t say anything for a moment, and then she said, “If God brings me a lifetime partner, I will stop the Secret Saint and focus on him, because I do think that’s what God wants us to do.
To put our family first. After all, it’s a lot more rewarding from a fleshly standpoint to help a whole pile of people who are appreciative than it is to just be there for your family.
” She knew it would feel more rewarding for her to go to her classroom than it would be for her to sit at home all day and watch her gram.
Although, if she didn’t have to make money in order to continue with everything that she was doing, she might have considered it.
She actually had considered taking a sabbatical year.
But… She didn’t know where her grandma would be in a year.
Maybe her grandma would need her more next year than she would this coming year.
“Trust me, I am not going to close my heart or my mind to anyone that God puts in my path.” But she did want to make sure that it was the right one.
She had a couple of false alarms earlier in her twenties, and she didn’t want to get emotionally involved with someone who wasn’t living for the Lord and wanting to put Him first. She had almost made a bad decision at one point, and that was definitely something that she had learned from that failed relationship. God came first.
“Sometimes love grows in unexpected places,” her gram said, smiling as she turned to get milk out of the refrigerator.
Well, the Secret Saint would certainly be an unexpected place. But she didn’t know anything at all about the Secret Saint that she was working with, other than he was tall, had working man’s hands, and seemed to be good at working with them.
Still, she tucked that idea away to think about. And she couldn’t help the excitement that bubbled up. She might actually be meeting him again. She wouldn’t mind having a helper. Or a coworker, more likely, since he wouldn’t consider her his helper any more than she would consider him hers.
She couldn’t wait until midnight tonight.