St. Dishtopass: The Sacristy.

Milly Biederwolfe (say BEE-der-wolf-ee) has been glad to get those pews out of the barn.  Lately, now that she hasn't been hectoring dear old Hector about them, she's been busy sorting the drawers and cabinets in the sacristy.  Haven't been too many surprises, but there have been a few.  In the back of the west cabinet she found a large plastic bin.  In the bin were several long lost items.

First of all, the instruction manual for the carillon.  'Bout time, too. Everyone was sure getting sick of the "Patriotic" selections, especially "Anchors Aweigh." 

Secondly, the church's Baby Jesus, lost since 2005.  Now there are two baby Jesuses. What to do with the extra one? The new one, purchased for 2006, was obviously too new to throw away. But the old one had "Given In Memory of My Mother, by Priscilla Heidenwreiker, 1973" etched onto his butt with a Dremel tool.  Mrs. Heidenwreiker is still living! Obviously, the older one must stay around, at least until Mrs. Heidenwreiker joins Mrs. Bithrow in the heavenly choir.  So Mildred gently wrapped the babe in swaddling clothes and hung him from a hanger in the back of the paraments closet because there was no room for him in the bin.

Also in the bin were 15 dead ladybugs, four AAL pencils, a collapsed tinsel and coat-hanger wire set of angel wings smelling vaguely of vomit (perhaps the angel herself had collapsed as well), and an ancient portable communion set. She opened this up with difficulty and found the little cruet with dried dregs of wine still in it.  The little metal hosts box she unscrewed with care.  Inside were seven very dried and dead whitish worms and some crumbs.  "At least they died happy," Milly thought. She tucked that into her tote bag to take home and clean out.

In the east cabinet, the one with all the drawers, she found a bunch of extra linens behind the box of new baptismal napkins.  She supposed they were either napkins for the chalice or small tablecloths, but she wasn't sure.  Several had holes, and one smelt strongly of bleach.  As she held each one up to the light to inspect for holes, she noticed a curious pattern on one of them. "Why, that looks like writing!" she thought.  She carried it out of the sacristy and spread it out on the front pew.  Sure enough, in better light, she could read what it said.  Woven into the pattern of the damask were the words, "Grand Oaks Hotel, Branson."

That's one way to save money on church linens: steal them.   Nobody's ever accused St. Dishtopass of spending too much money on itself.

Comments

[bibliophile]

"So Mildred gently wrapped the babe in swaddling clothes and hung him from a hanger in the back of the paraments closet because there was no room for him in the bin."

Nice pun.

[Dave Burton]

This is totally off-topic, but I couldn't find a contact address for you, and I just wanted to say "thank you" for this excellent page:

http://elephantschild.typepad.com/the_elephants_child/2009/04/10-million-christians-killed-in-the-holocaust.html

[Elephantschild]

You're welcome, Dave. My email addy is semi-buried in the "Comments and How To Go About Contacting Me" link in the right sidebar, under the "Even More About" title. Or, for short, add the usual gmail extension to "madmusiciansgirl".