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In The Garden
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In The Garden
Matt 26:36
Then Jesus went with them to a garden called Gethsemane and told his disciples, "Stay here while I go over there and pray." (from THE MESSAGE: The Bible in Contemporary Language © 2002 by Eugene H. Peterson. All rights reserved.)
Strolling through the streets of Lewisburg, Pennsylvania, I passed a man with no shirt and snowy white hair sitting on the front porch of what looked like a boarding house from the 1900s. He had on dark sunglasses and his deeply tanned neck sported a gold cross. He rocked back in his chair with his legs propped up on the porch railing and said, “Hello.” I smiled and nodded hello. A thin white haired frail looking woman walked out, sat in the matching chair on the other side of the porch, and also smiled.
On my return to the car, I passed this same house and found them still sitting here. “Did you enjoy Lewisburg?” he asked.
“I did. It was charming. Is this an apartment building or a private home?”
“Why, do you want to rent an apartment?”
“No,” I laughed. “I was just curious.”
“It has 4 apartments. We moved here in 1952 and eventually bought the building. When we moved here, these places rented for $40 per month. Now, they rent for $450. I’m Charlie and this is Jean.” We shook hands. “What brings you to Lewisburg?” he asked.
“I’m a writer. I travel the country writing about the people I meet.”
“I’m not interesting enough for anyone to want to write about me,” he said, smiling.
“Somehow I doubt that,” I laughed. “I noticed you wearing a cross around your neck. Are you a Christian?”
“Oh yes,” he nodded with reverence. “I couldn’t live without The Great Almighty.”
“What about you,” I asked of the woman sitting next to him. “Are you a Christian too?”
“Yes,” she nodded quietly without adding anything.
“She had a bad stroke,” the man gently explained. “But she’s doing well now, aren’t you honey.” She smiled and nodded.
“I’m sorry. My father and brother both had strokes last year. I know how hard that is.” He nodded.
“What about church?” I asked. “I write people’s spiritual stories. Are you active in church?”
“I can’t go much anymore because I take care of her but I constantly talk to The Almighty. I sit in my garden and talk with Him. Talking to Him in the garden is better than talking to Him in church, you know. My garden is my church. Walk round back and look at my garden.” I hesitated, not sure where to go. “Go,” he waved emphatically. “You can’t come to Lewisburg and not see my garden. It’s the best thing here. Turn left at the corner and follow it around.”
As I turned the corner, I noticed the peeling paint on the old building. I walked around back to find the entire back yard of his corner lot lit up with rows of colorful blooms and greenery. Scattered about were signs of someone weeding, raking, and clipping. Throughout the garden were birdhouses, bird feeders, and unique yard decorations. A welcome sign was heart warming as the garden was open for all of Lewisburg to enjoy.
As I quietly walked through this garden, I noticed a table and chairs, surrounded by flowers and birdhouses. I had come to the place where Charlie talks to The Great Almighty. I felt like I was on Holy Ground and thought about Jesus going to the garden to pray. I left the garden singing, “And He walks with me and He talks with me, and He tells me I am His own.” (From my favorite hymn, In the Garden.)”
I walked back around to the front of the house and said, “Thanks Charlie. The garden was wonderful. I can see why you call it your church.”
“You remembered my name,” he grinned.
“Yes, and I want to write about you. May I?” He beamed.
See pictures of Charlie and Charlie’s garden in the Photo Gallery – Pennsylvania – Lewisburg
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