By The Reverend Mrs. Silence DoGood
Dear Editor,
When I called Alice Bright Light and casually mentioned that I would be in Hoaverston to visit a congregant she surprisingly invited me over for tea. Alice had never invited me to her apartment even though she is my best friend and has been for several years. She knows that I frequently visit her hometown but this was her first invitation. Hoaverston is our county seat and is only thirteen miles from my parsonage and Church.
Alice and I usually meet at the River Creek Inn for after dinner drinks though she has occasionally stopped by the parsonage. At the Inn we discuss philosophy, morality, and world events but most of the time we spend gossiping and laughing. I also regularly see her at Sunday services but we rarely have time to speak there.
In the late nineteenth century Hoaverston was a wealthy coal town and its Main Street reflects its once opulent wealth. It is now a Historic District. The homes are generally Victorian and were built between the early 1800’s and early twentieth century. One can admire the houses because the homeowners take pride in their residences which are generally very well kept.
Alice lives in a beautiful Victorian house which has been converted into apartments. As I closed the door to my truck and looked at her house I was struck by its beautiful colors. The details of red, green and yellow gave the home a theme park quality. I thought to myself that the world must be ok if all these colors exist here.
I rang the bell to her apartment and she let me in the front door. I walked up the oak paneled staircase with heavy carved banisters until I reached the top floor. When she opened her door I stepped into another world that I didn’t know. Bleak. It was sparse and minimalist. Its snow- blinding white made me blink. Even the patina of its antique oak floors had been painted white.
Trying to deflect my surprise at her apartment being so white I said “The outside of your house is so colorful.”
“My landlady researched the correct color schemes for a Victorian house and she chose: Eau de Nil, Crimson, and Middle Bronze Green. I love those colors.”
“She won’t let you paint colors in here?”
“It was colorful when I moved in but I wanted everything white. So she let me do it. I did all the painting myself. This is better.”
As she prepared the tea I looked around her small studio apartment. There was almost nothing in it. It was stark. Yes I was sitting on a painted white chair next to her painted white table and of course there was a white framed bed.
I felt an overwhelming emptiness. A coldness. I felt an indescribable longing for something or someone to fill it up. Even though I was with my best friend I felt a profound loneliness.
“You live very sparsely.”
“It’s because of my work. It reminds me of my mission.” she said.
“I don’t understand.”
She then explained how and why she lives this way.
“I live this way to remind me of my mission. Others have colorful-plaster statues of angels, saints and gods. Other creeds have frescos on church ceilings or mosaics on the walls of mosques to inspire them. They have rituals and music to fulfill their missions. But my mission is much simpler. It is to remove the emptiness that a person feels from the death of a loved one. I do this by inviting their loved one back from the other side to once again make them whole. My surroundings here make me see, feel and live emptiness so I can be more motivated to help. So I can begin to feel what they feel. So I can be a better healer.”
I looked at the built-in-white-empty shelves on either side of the white-shuttered fireplace. I understood my best friend better. Emptiness suddenly became abundant with her caring and love for others.
Amen.
The Reverend Mrs. Silence DoGood
Senior Pastor
Executive Director
President
Chairman
Choir Master (part-time)
The First Church of God’s Love
Empty
By The Reverend Mrs. Silence DoGood
Dear Editor,
When I called Alice Bright Light and casually mentioned that I would be in Hoaverston to visit a congregant she surprisingly invited me over for tea. Alice had never invited me to her apartment even though she is my best friend and has been for several years. She knows that I frequently visit her hometown but this was her first invitation. Hoaverston is our county seat and is only thirteen miles from my parsonage and Church.
Alice and I usually meet at the River Creek Inn for after dinner drinks though she has occasionally stopped by the parsonage. At the Inn we discuss philosophy, morality, and world events but most of the time we spend gossiping and laughing. I also regularly see her at Sunday services but we rarely have time to speak there.
In the late nineteenth century Hoaverston was a wealthy coal town and its Main Street reflects its once opulent wealth. It is now a Historic District. The homes are generally Victorian and were built between the early 1800’s and early twentieth century. One can admire the houses because the homeowners take pride in their residences which are generally very well kept.
Alice lives in a beautiful Victorian house which has been converted into apartments. As I closed the door to my truck and looked at her house I was struck by its beautiful colors. The details of red, green and yellow gave the home a theme park quality. I thought to myself that the world must be ok if all these colors exist here.
I rang the bell to her apartment and she let me in the front door. I walked up the oak paneled staircase with heavy carved banisters until I reached the top floor. When she opened her door I stepped into another world that I didn’t know. Bleak. It was sparse and minimalist. Its snow- blinding white made me blink. Even the patina of its antique oak floors had been painted white.
Trying to deflect my surprise at her apartment being so white I said “The outside of your house is so colorful.”
“My landlady researched the correct color schemes for a Victorian house and she chose: Eau de Nil, Crimson, and Middle Bronze Green. I love those colors.”
“She won’t let you paint colors in here?”
“It was colorful when I moved in but I wanted everything white. So she let me do it. I did all the painting myself. This is better.”
As she prepared the tea I looked around her small studio apartment. There was almost nothing in it. It was stark. Yes I was sitting on a painted white chair next to her painted white table and of course there was a white framed bed.
I felt an overwhelming emptiness. A coldness. I felt an indescribable longing for something or someone to fill it up. Even though I was with my best friend I felt a profound loneliness.
“You live very sparsely.”
“It’s because of my work. It reminds me of my mission.” she said.
“I don’t understand.”
She then explained how and why she lives this way.
“I live this way to remind me of my mission. Others have colorful-plaster statues of angels, saints and gods. Other creeds have frescos on church ceilings or mosaics on the walls of mosques to inspire them. They have rituals and music to fulfill their missions. But my mission is much simpler. It is to remove the emptiness that a person feels from the death of a loved one. I do this by inviting their loved one back from the other side to once again make them whole. My surroundings here make me see, feel and live emptiness so I can be more motivated to help. So I can begin to feel what they feel. So I can be a better healer.”
I looked at the built-in-white-empty shelves on either side of the white-shuttered fireplace. I understood my best friend better. Emptiness suddenly became abundant with her caring and love for others.
Amen.
The Reverend Mrs. Silence DoGood
Senior Pastor
Executive Director
President
Chairman
Choir Master (part-time)
The First Church of God’s Love