The town is quiet. Everything is gray and foggy. I walk through the streets and hear a garden gate creaking open. Everything is dark and sad. Desolate, I think to myself as I walk on, That’s how I would describe this day.
Mrs. Johnson always told me that Heaven was her home and that’s where she was headed. She often described to me what she thought Heaven would be like. She’d talk about the pearly gates, the streets of gold, and our Father on His throne. I would close my eyes and try to imagine such a place. I first imagined the sun shining and birds chirping, but Mrs. Johnson countered by saying that we would need no sun. She quoted from the book of Revelation*, “And the city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and its lamp is the Lamb.”
I imagine that Mrs. Johnson is sitting on a cushy chair, talking to her younger siblings about the love of God. She surely has a cup of green tea in her hand- the best green tea she’s ever tasted, at the perfect temperature, and with the perfect amount of cream.
The sky is becoming clear. The fog is lifting, but the town still looks as if it was deserted a decade ago. I look to my right and see a paper sign threatening to rip away from the window it was stuck on.
I see Mrs. Johnson singing hymns. Oh, how she loved to sing. Her voice must sound like an angel’s now. She is no longer suffering from her consumptive cough. I imagine her singing My Jesus, I Love Thee especially for her Savior.
I’m sure she has wasted no time in seeing Lillian Jaler. Mrs. Johnson never let a new customer leave her shop until she had shown them the girl’s beautifully written verses. She is probably talking to her this very instant about how Jesus Christ saved them from their own sin so that they could live in paradise… the paradise that they are in right now.
I look up and see white fluff filling the sky. The clouds no longer hold their soggy gray form but are floating as light as a feather and shining radiantly against the blue sky. I look to my left and I see five chickens that are diligently searching for that morning’s meal of bugs and worms.
Mrs. Johnson loved her garden of flowers and herbs. She would always tease by saying that if one could live on herbs and flowers than she’d stop caring for her vegetables in a heartbeat. She didn’t like digging in the ground to find her potatoes and carrots as much as she enjoyed touching the delicate petals that adorned her flowers.
She’d often quote the Scriptures while in her garden. *“The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God stands forever.”
The sun is shining radiantly and birds seem to float across the sky. The white clouds only add to the gentle scene. Townsfolk are going about their daily business as usual. Even though our small town has lost one of our dearest sisters, work still needs to be done. A dog trots happily by me with a bone in his mouth. The chickens cluck contentedly.
I picture Mrs. Johnson is Heaven. I picture her with her Savior. I picture her at home.
I hope you all enjoyed Mrs. Johnson’s Sunday Teatime! I will not be continuing to post story chapters every Saturday, as this story is over and I have not a new one. I apologize that this post is so late! This day has been non-stop. Going, going, and not quite gone. I think I will be if I don’t dive into bed soon, though. Last night I was up ’till 2:40 am with a friend of mine. (Hehe). And this morning was our church’s workday. (My arms ache from window scrubbing. 😉 ) After that, my younger brother and I helped my grandparents set up their Christmas decorations and we had dinner here. (I’m at their house right now, trying to finish this blog post. Ack!! Hurry, Aly!) I will post pictures of today’s Christmas decorations on Monday.
I hope y’all have a great night! Sleep well, and may God bless tomorrow’s rest before this coming week. ❤
* Revelation 21:23
* Isaiah 40:8
Image taken from Stock Snap.