Every flower that blooms has to go through a whole lot of dirt

Our story so far: While we renovated the old Methodist church into our home, construction workers were building a new addition to the elementary school across the street.

# # #

One afternoon as I was returning home after an afternoon of cuddling with our new granddaughter, I checked in with Tyler. He was breathlessly excited on the other end of the line.

“Oh boy, did I ever score this afternoon! What a score! Come straight to the church and find out what I scored!”

Apparently, he scored. Something.

church watercolor
A former member gave us this framed watercolor painting of the church.

I began conjuring up what would thrill him so. Recently, we had given a former member of the church a tour, and she gifted us with a watercolor painting of the church that had come into her possession. It was beautiful and meaningful, and we would certainly hang it in the hall of history. Did some other interested party drop off something equally significant? Or maybe he found something in the church. Another member mentioned losing a class ring in the church yard—did he find it when he was digging around? Alas, no class ring turned up, but maybe Tyler found something else—a piece of jewelry? A time capsule? Gosh, he sounded so enthused. Maybe he came into some money from some unknown benefactor. What could it be?

As I pulled up in front of the church, a semi-truck blocked the street. The back of the truck was filled with dirt, and some unknown foreman was directing the driver to dump his load.

In our yard.

I began getting the picture that it wasn’t jewelry he found.

# # #

Tomorrow: The benefactor is revealed. Read about it here.

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