Angie's Grand Adventure
Stories
Lectionary Tales For The Pulpit
Series II Cycle A
Eight-year-old Angie and her family were visiting friends in suburban Washington DC. It was the first time Angie had ever been to a large metropolitan city. She was dazzled by all the people, traffic, and large buildings. Once at their friend's house the children decided to ride bicycles, the two visiting children as well as the two who lived there. Angie's mother told them not to go very far, just around the block a couple of times. After several hours of driving in the car, expending some energy would be the best thing for the children.
Sometime later, when the mothers went looking for the children, all the children were back except for Angie. Upon questioning the other children said they did not know what happened to Angie. They thought she was right behind them on her bike. They turned the corner and waited and waited, but she never turned the corner so they returned home.
The panic-stricken adults quickly got into the car and began driving frantically around the block searching for the missing child. When they did not find Angie around the first block, they expanded their search to the next block and then the next. Her mother kept calling her name, hoping deep down she would hear that familiar voice, "Coming, Mom."
After their failed search, they returned to the house, hoping by now Angie would be back safe and sound. When she was not, they called 911. As they waited for the police, all sorts of terrible thoughts filled their minds.
After 45 agonizing minutes, a police car arrived with Angie in the back seat, followed by an older model car with two elderly women. In the front yard was a joyful reunion as mother and father hugged their wayward daughter and smothered her with kisses.
When asked what happened, Angie explained that she was not sure how long a "block" was so when she separated from the other children she just kept going straight. After what the police estimated as fifteen blocks, she came to an overpass and then realized that maybe she had gone too far. She stood on the corner crying.
Just then the two women happened past. They saw Angie standing on the corner crying, so they stopped to ask her what was wrong. Between sobs she managed to say she was lost and then began to cry even harder. "Don't worry, little girl," one of the women tried to assure her. "We'll take you home. Where do you live, honey?" the other woman asked. "Pennsylvania," Angie replied. The two elderly women just looked at each other.
As the women were talking with her, a police officer spotted them.
This was not the end of the story. By the time the police officer informed everyone what happened, assuring them that Angie was unharmed, one of the elderly women slowly made her way across the lawn. She told the group that her husband had died just two weeks ago. She was sitting home, all alone, feeling sad that afternoon. Her friend called, suggesting that they go for a drive. A drive would do her good, her friend assured her. It would help her take her mind off other things.
The woman told Angie's mother that for the first time since her husband's death she felt better. "It feels good to help someone else," she said. Somehow or other God's hand brought Angie and this woman together that afternoon.
Sometime later, when the mothers went looking for the children, all the children were back except for Angie. Upon questioning the other children said they did not know what happened to Angie. They thought she was right behind them on her bike. They turned the corner and waited and waited, but she never turned the corner so they returned home.
The panic-stricken adults quickly got into the car and began driving frantically around the block searching for the missing child. When they did not find Angie around the first block, they expanded their search to the next block and then the next. Her mother kept calling her name, hoping deep down she would hear that familiar voice, "Coming, Mom."
After their failed search, they returned to the house, hoping by now Angie would be back safe and sound. When she was not, they called 911. As they waited for the police, all sorts of terrible thoughts filled their minds.
After 45 agonizing minutes, a police car arrived with Angie in the back seat, followed by an older model car with two elderly women. In the front yard was a joyful reunion as mother and father hugged their wayward daughter and smothered her with kisses.
When asked what happened, Angie explained that she was not sure how long a "block" was so when she separated from the other children she just kept going straight. After what the police estimated as fifteen blocks, she came to an overpass and then realized that maybe she had gone too far. She stood on the corner crying.
Just then the two women happened past. They saw Angie standing on the corner crying, so they stopped to ask her what was wrong. Between sobs she managed to say she was lost and then began to cry even harder. "Don't worry, little girl," one of the women tried to assure her. "We'll take you home. Where do you live, honey?" the other woman asked. "Pennsylvania," Angie replied. The two elderly women just looked at each other.
As the women were talking with her, a police officer spotted them.
This was not the end of the story. By the time the police officer informed everyone what happened, assuring them that Angie was unharmed, one of the elderly women slowly made her way across the lawn. She told the group that her husband had died just two weeks ago. She was sitting home, all alone, feeling sad that afternoon. Her friend called, suggesting that they go for a drive. A drive would do her good, her friend assured her. It would help her take her mind off other things.
The woman told Angie's mother that for the first time since her husband's death she felt better. "It feels good to help someone else," she said. Somehow or other God's hand brought Angie and this woman together that afternoon.
