The next morning, Samuel began his day with a conflict between his emotional confusion and tiredness, with his mental and spiritual resolve.
So, after his breakfast rituals, at the word of "Amen", he looked around his office and noticed a bookcase that appeared to be long abandoned with dusty old books on its shelves.
"Well," he told himself, "While they are paying me, for however long, I'll put myself to good use."
Samuel found a couple of empty boxes, and began to put old books into them, when he stumbled across a package with a stack of papers in it, loosely bound together.
The cover page read,
"A collection of
Speeches, Passing Thoughts and Herbal Remedies
Of William of Pistyll.
Compiled by Reverend "Snowy" Aspen.
1985"
"Reverend Snowy Aspen," Samuel smiled,
"Does everyone have a nickname in this place?"
Samuel placed the pile of papers on the small table beside his bed.
He was curious, and now he was going to begin trying to work out just who this "Saint" Warren was after all.
But that would take several days of reading, and Samuel wanted to focus on the tasks at hand.
"Tomorrow has its own concerns.." he reminded himself.
A few days passed by without incident, and he thought he would do best to go over to the chapel.
Samuel, once again feeling some excitement with anticipation, arrived at the chapel with his Sunday morning sermon to rehearse, his guitar and some new songs that he wanted to teach the congregation.
He flung open the doors of the chapel to let the fresh breeze flow through the building.
A spring in his step.
In the distance, he could hear the most beautiful piano playing that he thought he'd ever heard.
Complex.
Joyful.
The well dressed, middle aged lady instantly stopped playing, on noticing Samuel's arrival.
"I'm sorry for disturbing you," Samuel said, "Ah,please..Keep playing."
Whoever she was, it was the happiest thing he'd experienced in his brief time at St.Warren's.
"Oh. No mind." The lady replied, formally, "I'm meant to be cleaning."
"Oh, are you Mrs.Song?" Samuel asked.
He had not been formally introduced to anyone at church yet, but he did know that Mrs.Song did cleaning duties on Friday.
Considering the customs of the St.Warren's "crowd", as Samuel referred to them, he just wanted to make sure that Mrs."Song" wasn't another nickname.
"Yes. Pleased to meet you." she replied, again formally but more politely.
Phew. OK. Good!
Samuel stepped forward.
"Well, these must be your books.
I found them on an old shelf in the office."
He handed her the books, which he had dusted off, entitled,
"Joyful" and "Words of Encouragement".
Mrs.Song looked at them,as she received them, with a tinge of sadness.
"I gave these to Reverend Labour a few years ago.
It appears he hasn't read them." Mrs.Song said remorsefully, whilst flicking through the pages.
Samuel felt uncomfortable because he didn't know what to say,in as much as he also knew that he could not really say anything meaningful, with empathy.
So, he gently motioned forward to place his notes on the pulpit and his guitar case on the floor.
"Well, I won't disturb you any longer." he said softly, moving forward to shake hands with her.
She was focussed on her books, and some hidden grief, and walked away.
Samuel changed his hand gesture, to scratch his head for no apparent reason.
Thereafter, to practise for the Sunday service and cheer himself up, Samuel plugged in his guitar to the amplifier, and began making a joyful..noise.
Mrs.Song looked up from her mop bucket and placed her hand on her forehead.
Samuel caught this view, and in the middle of his singing, instantly froze.
"Mrs.Song," he asked, "Are you alright?"
"Rev-erend Samuel."
"Please-Samuel."
"Sam-uel!"
"Yes, Mrs.Song?"
With a deep sigh, Mrs.Song leant the mop in the bucket against a wall, and walked forward to the front of the chapel.
It was almost as if she was marching to a beat.
"You are new here." Mrs.Song stated.
Samuel replied with a weak smile and nod.
"Yes."
"And my husband and I are the youngest of a group of old people.."
"I see." Samuel replied, attentively.
"And we are..accustomed to doing things..a certain way."
"I see."
"And young people," Mrs.Song continued, as if each word was chosen carefully,
"Young people..They finish their studies, and have a great enthusiasm, and that sometimes..does not agree with the older people."
Samuel caught the gist of what Mrs.Song was saying, with her sparsely and carefully worded speech.
True to Samuel's form, he felt a confused mix of frustration and regret, concern and hope.
"Well," Samuel replied with evident frustration and excitement, "Can you help me?"
"With what?!" Mrs.Song sounded concerned.
At this, Samuel swung his arms around in the air.
"You help me, help me put the services together."
"You're the minister now." Mrs.Song kept her calm, formal tone.
"Yes,but obviously I'm..new here,and.." he paused briefly, before continuing in a more sombre tone, "while I am here, I need help."
"So,you were not told." Mrs.Song said, with a hint of sympathy.
"It seems that I was the last to be told, Mrs.Song, that they had hired me just to fill in time, before they sell the place."
Samuel now sounded completely opposite to when he had entered the building.
As if on cue, they both heard some noise going on just outside the chapel, and they both went to investigate.
Two men had installed a large sign, right in the middle of what was once a "Community garden", just inside the church's old brick fence.
The sign read,
"FOR SALE
BY AUCTION"
This time Samuel let out the big sigh.
"I just feel awkward, Mrs.Song," Samuel confessed, after staring at the sign.
"I just wanted to be a minister somewhere. Feel part of a community,too.
It's impossible now. What should I do?"
Mrs.Song placed her hand on his shoulder.
"With Man, this is impossible," she said, as formally but politely as before.
"With God, all things are possible."
Samuel nodded,thoughtfully.
"I suppose that is the attitude I should have to continue this to the end."
Mrs.Song looked towards Samuel, kindly.
"The attitude we should have, Samuel." she assured him.
Samuel's exhaustion and confusion were forgotten again, to be replaced by a renewed sense of hope and gratitude.
"You will help me then, Mrs.Song?"
"Mr.Song was a pastor in Korea for many years.
I have played the piano for many years.
I'm sure we can help, somehow."
To add to his excitement and gratitude, Samuel was now also a little curious, as to..
"Why haven't you had more input into helping this church before now, Mrs.Song?"
Raising up the books Samuel had handed her earlier, that the former minister had never read, Mrs.Song turned to Samuel and calmly lamented,
"You might say, noone has ever cared to ask."