Harriett Foster decided she couldn’t delay her talk with Pastor Lovelace any longer. This matter with Ruth Darling wasn’t the only problem, either. God had graced her with a knack for details, and she’d noticed a number of other good Christians flirting with sin.
Since she hadn’t been able to accidentally-on-purpose bump into the minister, she scheduled an appointment through the church secretary.
“It’s vitally important I speak with Pastor Lovelace at his earliest convenience,” she’d told Joanne Lawton.
When the church secretary had quizzed her about the purpose of the meeting, Harriett had been vague. She’d said something along the lines of the matter being a delicate one that in her humble opinion required the attention of the church’s spiritual leader. She must have been convincing because Joanne scheduled her for an appointment first thing Monday morning, three days before Christmas.
Harriett dressed carefully, choosing her best outfit, the one she generally reserved for formal occasions: playing the pipe organ at baptisms and weddings, that sort of thing. Her new black pumps were a tad snug and uncomfortable but would loosen with a bit of wear, she decided.
Generally she avoided studying her reflection in the mirror. She allowed only one small hand mirror in her home; anything larger would be flirting with vanity. And while other Christian women were spiritually comfortable wearing cosmetics, Harriett had never used anything but a light shade of lipstick.
Jewelry was another matter of concern. Her only adornment was a plain gold wedding band and a locket that had once belonged to her grandmother. One day she would pass it along to her niece. To her way of thinking, a woman in the service of God would choose to don only what would enhance a meek and humble spirit. Harriett cringed whenever she saw a woman wearing large, looped earrings. And she’d nearly fainted the first time she’d seen an earring on a teenage boy. In his nose. The mere thought was enough to cause her to grimace, even now, months later.
She arrived promptly, as always, for her appointment. Cleanliness wasn’t the only personality trait that was next to godliness.
“Pastor Lovelace will see you now,” Joanne said when Harriett entered the office. The other woman led the way into Pastor Lovelace’s private study.
The minister was a good man who preached straight out of the King James version of the Bible. Harriett approved of his choice and had let it be known early on. Although young, he possessed a healthy appreciation for the traditional view of such important matters.
He stood as she entered the room and motioned to the chair on the other side of his desk. “Good morning, Mrs. Foster. I understand you wanted to see me.”
Harriett sat and folded her hands primly in her lap. “It’s a matter of some importance.”
“That’s what I understand.”
He sat down and waited for her to continue. Harriett had hoped to exchange small talk and ease her way into this burden on her heart. She inhaled slowly, thinking the direct approach was probably for the best. A soul couldn’t ease into a discussion about sin.
Pastor Lovelace waited silently, and Harriett plunged right in. “As you’re probably aware, I’ve been a member of this congregation for well over twenty years.”
“It seems longer.”
“My husband’s family was one of the founding members of this congregation.” She bowed her head out of reverence for the dead. “May God rest his soul.”
“You’ve served our church community with great vigor,” Pastor Lovelace admitted graciously.
Harriett had always been fond of the man. He showed a keen insight into the many personal sacrifices others had made on behalf of the church.
“Tell me, how is the pageant coming along? Have you enjoyed working with Reba Maxwell?”
“Well,” Harriett said with a heavy sigh, and scooted closer to the edge of the cushion. “I understand that when Milly’s husband was transferred, the church was in something of a bind, but personally—”
“From all indications,” Pastor Lovelace interrupted, “Miss Maxwell is doing an excellent job, working long hours, and putting a great deal of time and energy into the project.”
“Yes,” Harriett admitted reluctantly. The Maxwell woman had done everything he said, but the church had taken a risk by allowing a woman, one with spotty attendance at best, to step in at the last minute. Luckily there hadn’t been too many problems.
“I apologize, Mrs. Foster, I’ve sidetracked you.”
Harriett cleared her throat. “As I was saying earlier, I’ve attended this church for several years now and am familiar with many of the families.”