Things that go bump in the Tea Room

My mother was great about reading stories to me at night when I was a child.. They could be really scary or very bland, but they ALL had a moral. I loved them, but there was a problem, I slept on the third floor of our old farmhouse. When Mom would read 'Little Orphant Annie'to me and got to the part about the little boy that wouldn't say his prayers, I was tight against her! She'd read these stories with great conviction, emphasizing the parts about the results of your misbehavin'. When she was finished I had to pry myself away and climb those stairs. The thing was, I couldn't get the thought out of my mind that I didn't WANT to say my prayers EITHER!!!! Oh boy! Talk about the FEAR FACTOR! I became obsessed with trying to think I
DID want to say them, but this little voice kept saying 'no you don't'. No
wonder I was a bed wetter! To top it off, in the attic, stored in his own
black wooden box, was a real, human skull. I was convinced the rest of his
body would one day be coming looking for his head, and it would come right
through my bedroom.

My brothers found it one day at the bottom of an old outhouse, owned by a deceased doctor. Don't ask me what they were doing looking in there. It was a treasure for sure. Charlie (that's what we called him) went to school with me every Halloween. He scared countless children,and even was a part of a scary story my brother Terry told to my 4-H horse club one night at a Halloween party we were having over in the woods. After a scarecrow contest, where every child brought his own scarecrow to set up in
a circle in our pasture, to be judged by the good natured county agent, we
lit a fire in the woods and everyone sat in a circle around it. Terry was
disguised as an old woman. He told a really scarey story to these wide eyed
innocents who had never been scared by a professional before. At the end,
Shirley, his equally professional wife was dressed up and appeared out of
the darkness with Charlie perched on her head like it was really HER head.
One poor little fella was so scared he actually fell off his log and in his
terror to get away, fell and broke his arm!!! How's THAT for child abuse?
Charlie still lives here on the farm, but not in MY house. He is over at my
brother Terry's. Let him rattle around in HIS closet! There was talk that at
one of the Fall Farmer Teas, he was spotted in the garden, making his way to
the back door of the Tea Room. I'm sure it was just a rumor. Someone said
they actually saw two glowing eyes drifting over the bed of Anemones, making
a soft noise. It sounded like someone biting into a scone they said. Now I
can't say this is true. I didn't see it myself with my own little eyes.
Charlie has never hurt anyone in the past, as far as I
know........................

Christian snowballs

Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people,
especially to those who belong to the family of believers.
-- Galatians 6:10

You know, I have read this verse countless times, but always marvel at the part that says "especially to the family of believers". I think a lot of Christians feel we are to pay 'especial attention' mostly to the unbelievers we encounter. We think our work is done once they invite Christ into their hearts. That is so untrue. We need to nurture all believers, lift them all up in prayer and encourage them in their walk with Christ. It's so hard living the Christian life when you are bone tired from working and trying to keep a family together. I try to do business with Christian businesses as much as I can. The money we spend at those places goes so much further than just the cash register. The tithes and offerings made by Christians in business goes to help missionaries here and abroad, Pastors and other Christian workers who feed the poor, clothe the needy, educate the poor in Spirit, provide a place where our youth can safely participate in sports and activities to grow good Christian minds and bodies. It's like a snowball. The little handful of snow slowly gathers more snow and soon it's a huge snowman. A Christian car dealer I know here in Hanover, Pa. with a lot of salesmen only hires Christian workers. When you buy a car from him, that money snowballs to lots of churches in the area. Christians who in turn tithe to their churches and so it goes. Something to think about.

Gone but not forgotten

When we first moved to our farm, back in 1977, we were privileged to have in the little town of East Berlin, the most wonderful general store, restaurant and butcher shop in the world. They were all under one roof. Lau's Store. You went in the back door into the grocery store. To your right and down the aisle Wayne Lau had his butcher shop. He sold the best apple smoked bacon you ever ate. I mean it. It was just wonderful. He had great cheeses, sausages, even chorizo sausage.

There were groceries, and they even sold goat skin gloves that cost $4.95 and when you wore them they made your hands so soft you couldn't believe it. You turned left and at the front of the store Sonny Lau had his own little bit of heaven. He sold cheap perfume, watches, flashlights, jewelry and all things in between. It was so neat walking up and down the aisles. Each turn was an adventure. When you got to the front left, after winding past a row of soda fountain stools you came to some of the most astounding characters you have ever seen, perched like crows having a church service on the telephone wires. They were permanent fixtures, only changing with the meal being served.

Still further on was the dining room. Each table may as well have been reserved, because there were regulars who never missed a day and you had better not sit in there spot or you would be singed by the fierce glares they'd direct your way. I sat at the first table straight ahead, along with my friend Becky Mummert, Bob Linebaugh, and I sometimes we'd allow an interesting stray to sit with us. We'd sit, if the coffee didn't appear we would go behind the counter and serve ourselves. The Queen of the store, heck, the TOWN was Isabelle Lau. She was about 4' 10" and made of pure, unadulterated curiosity. How she loved to listen in on all the conversations going on. She would chip in if she got the chance, and then go off on a storytelling rant that was just hysterical. She was the mother of Sonny and Wayne. Her husband Bobby died the year we moved up here. We were a community. We knew what was going on in everyone's lives and we cared what happened there. The restaurant served honest if not sometimes wonderful food. On Friday night they had all you could eat Red Snapper (before the rich folks discovered it) and my husband often ate 4 plates piled high. You didn't have to place your order for breakfast. Rhonda, the waitress extraordinaire knew what we wanted. You just sat down and started talking, soon your eggs were on the table and all was well with the world.

Any excuse worked for beating a path to their door. It was where you wanted to be for some reason. As time went on we were all starting to get achy and stiff. The Lau boys had to close the store and that was the end of an era. We mourned it like a death in the family when they closed. The whole community went silent. We had no where to go for our morning meetings. No where to go for the apple smoked bacon. No more cheap perfume. There was a little old man that walked so slow that if he was at the back door when we came in he would just be getting to the front door when we had finished our meal. No kidding. He took these little shuffling steps. He was just precious! Where did he go after Lau's closed. I don't know.

Since then one restaurant after another has tried to win us back. We aren't easy. We try them out. Give them a chance, but the ghosts that walk those aisles are still haunting us. Now you walk in the back and are ushered threw a series of cattle shoots that lead you up a musty smelling dark hall to the front restaurant. It's decorated in a cutesy country decor that makes you want to stick your finger down your throat. Where are the tables that rock from the uneven floors? Where is Isabelle, and why aren't our friends here? It's gone, and no one is ever going to replace what we've lost or exorcize the spirits of Wayne, Sonny and Isabelle.