SermonStudio
Endwork
Stories
New Mercies I See
"Good grief!" Susie said. "It's Alfred Plunket!"
"What?" I exclaimed, startled. I hurried to the window from which Susie was peering intently into the church parking lot. Sure enough, the wizened little man who had been our neighbor in Thornberry, a four-hour drive away, was climbing out of a taxi, suitcase in hand.
The sight of the taxi itself was so rare in North Doncaster as to seem ominous. It had caught Susie's attention as she glanced out the window on that Saturday morning in late spring. The sight of Alfred added dismay to her surprise.
"What?" I exclaimed, startled. I hurried to the window from which Susie was peering intently into the church parking lot. Sure enough, the wizened little man who had been our neighbor in Thornberry, a four-hour drive away, was climbing out of a taxi, suitcase in hand.
The sight of the taxi itself was so rare in North Doncaster as to seem ominous. It had caught Susie's attention as she glanced out the window on that Saturday morning in late spring. The sight of Alfred added dismay to her surprise.

