James Ross - A Character-Based Collection (Prairie Winds Golf Course) by Ross James

Author:Ross, James [Ross, James]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Xlibris
Published: 2015-03-07T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

It was another lovely Sunday morning in September. Stella Syms arrived for eleven o’clock mass at Hands of Faith parish with the four children that still lived at home. Her two eldest had already moved away to college. Harold quickly bolted through a side door to attend to duties for which he had volunteered.

Standing five foot eight with chic highlighted hair, Stella was a statuesque and beautiful soccer mom. She had never worked a day in her life, had a bubbly personality, and an even better disposition. She was as friendly as anyone in the congregation and a popular organizer of events. What she saw in her short, pudgy, hairy, stubby-legged husband was one of the mysteries of the universe. But it was what it was.

After dipping her hands in holy water and genuflecting she led her family to a pew. There, they lowered the kneeler and folded their hands in prayer. Conspicuously absent was her husband, who sat in the back row with a handful of other men.

Father Alphonso Blair presided over the mass. Dressed in vestments, his look on Sunday was in stark contrast to the casual shirt that covered his upper torso while golfing at Prairie Winds. He stood before the congregation in an alb; white, of course, to signify purity of body and soul. It was cinctured at the waist with an additional girdle beneath to attempt to hide his considerable mid-section. Around his neck was the stole and over his shoulders a chasuble ornamented with a cross.

As the mass continued it soon became obvious why Harold sat away from his family. As the call to offering neared he and five other men advanced to the usher’s room. There they each grabbed a basket.

When Father Blair made the call for the offering Harold and the group of ushers jumped into action. Each headed for a bank of pews and passed the baskets up and down the rows. Enclosed envelopes sealed with pledges, personal checks, and cash filled the offering containers. In a few short minutes the men headed for the ushers’ room to count the money. It had been a prosperous weekend for the parish. The parishioners had been in a giving mood.

Harold, because of his banking experience, had been designated to be the head usher. With a tithing congregation numbering almost twenty-five hundred, the average weekly commitment was right at thirty dollars per tithe. A cool, tax free, seventy-five thousand dollars came into the parish’s coffers fifty-two times a year. With an annual budget of nearly four million dollars Father Alphonso Blair and Harold Syms had developed a tight bond over the years. When it came time to count the money after the eleven a.m. service every week, Father Blair gave the responsibility to his trusted friend.

The ushers divvied the money up on the table in the ushers’ room. In one pile went the checks. In the other pile went the cash. After it was counted under a checks and balances system the money

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