“If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.”
~ 1 Corinthians 13:2 ~
1
Faith O’Fallon flipped through a notebook on the cluttered desk of her office at the Mountain Light Children’s Home as beads of perspiration collected along the nape of her neck. A box fan set to high speed in the window chased a sticky note from the scribble-splattered blotter, and Faith fell to her knees to retrieve it as it flitted across scuffed tile toward the foot of the file cabinet.
Snatching the slip of paper, Faith sucked in a deep, ragged breath. This task she’d recently bulldozed into seemed beyond impossible to accomplish. Yes, indeed…that’s what planning Mountain Light’s Christmas party while knee-deep into the humidity-clad days of Indian summer, with the office air conditioning stubbornly on the fritz—again—seemed to be. But Faith stood determined to see this task through to the end despite all the good, the bad, and the ugly that it brought along.
The Bad: check—she’d been turned down now at least half-a-dozen times by supporters who’d opened their pockets during previous years without so much as a flinch. The Ugly: check—the heat and oppressive humidity which lurked around every corner did little to nudge her or others in the community into the Christmas spirit.
The Good? Faith had nothing going in that area. That particular quality appeared to be AWOL at the moment.
Faith lowered the speed of the box fan as she collected the last of the scattered sticky notes and settled back into the desk chair. The sound of voices drifted…laughter mingled with shouts of glee and the light spatter of an argument here and there as children played with water toys on the side lawn. One of the counselors had, to the boundless delight of the kids, set up a few sprinklers to combat the sweltering September heat since the kids were out of school due to a teacher in-service day.
Faith couldn’t remember such a string of warm September days. The meager shower of water from the sprinklers wasn’t much in the way of recreational activities; a pool would certainly prove an all-around much better option. But said pool seemed a flight of fancy and stood purely out of the realm of financial possibility for the children’s home as Faith still struggled to procure so much as the tiniest bit of funding for the in-house holiday party and modest Christmas gifts for the kids.
She needed to secure a few compassionate and willing donors with deep pockets, and quick. Christmas loomed just a little more than three months away and the shopping and planning would require every bit of those precious days.
Faith smoothed a wrinkle from her linen skirt and readjusted the strap of one sandal, wishing she’d thought to don more sensible footwear this morning. The generous heels nipped and pinched with each step, and she longed to kick them off and join the carefree kids who ran through lush grass that beckoned from the yard beyond her office window.
No time for that. Focus, Faith, focus...
Faith was in her first year as the recreation director here at the children’s home, and she’d quickly come to love every one of the kids, aged five to seventeen, with whom she crossed paths on a daily basis. They’d grown to be the family she’d never belonged to and had always longed for. Having spent the better part of her childhood at Mountain Light herself, she knew good and well the importance of even the smallest gestures of kindness. Now, she refused to let the kids down when it came to hosting the Christmas party they eagerly looked forward to all year…even if it killed her.
And it might…heatstroke was an option, or she simply might just melt to death. The tune “Frosty the Snowman ” suddenly danced through Faith’s head and a stab of sadness pierced her heart as she imagined Frosty slowly dissolving into a
~ 1 Corinthians 13:2 ~
1
Faith O’Fallon flipped through a notebook on the cluttered desk of her office at the Mountain Light Children’s Home as beads of perspiration collected along the nape of her neck. A box fan set to high speed in the window chased a sticky note from the scribble-splattered blotter, and Faith fell to her knees to retrieve it as it flitted across scuffed tile toward the foot of the file cabinet.
Snatching the slip of paper, Faith sucked in a deep, ragged breath. This task she’d recently bulldozed into seemed beyond impossible to accomplish. Yes, indeed…that’s what planning Mountain Light’s Christmas party while knee-deep into the humidity-clad days of Indian summer, with the office air conditioning stubbornly on the fritz—again—seemed to be. But Faith stood determined to see this task through to the end despite all the good, the bad, and the ugly that it brought along.
The Bad: check—she’d been turned down now at least half-a-dozen times by supporters who’d opened their pockets during previous years without so much as a flinch. The Ugly: check—the heat and oppressive humidity which lurked around every corner did little to nudge her or others in the community into the Christmas spirit.
The Good? Faith had nothing going in that area. That particular quality appeared to be AWOL at the moment.
Faith lowered the speed of the box fan as she collected the last of the scattered sticky notes and settled back into the desk chair. The sound of voices drifted…laughter mingled with shouts of glee and the light spatter of an argument here and there as children played with water toys on the side lawn. One of the counselors had, to the boundless delight of the kids, set up a few sprinklers to combat the sweltering September heat since the kids were out of school due to a teacher in-service day.
Faith couldn’t remember such a string of warm September days. The meager shower of water from the sprinklers wasn’t much in the way of recreational activities; a pool would certainly prove an all-around much better option. But said pool seemed a flight of fancy and stood purely out of the realm of financial possibility for the children’s home as Faith still struggled to procure so much as the tiniest bit of funding for the in-house holiday party and modest Christmas gifts for the kids.
She needed to secure a few compassionate and willing donors with deep pockets, and quick. Christmas loomed just a little more than three months away and the shopping and planning would require every bit of those precious days.
Faith smoothed a wrinkle from her linen skirt and readjusted the strap of one sandal, wishing she’d thought to don more sensible footwear this morning. The generous heels nipped and pinched with each step, and she longed to kick them off and join the carefree kids who ran through lush grass that beckoned from the yard beyond her office window.
No time for that. Focus, Faith, focus...
Faith was in her first year as the recreation director here at the children’s home, and she’d quickly come to love every one of the kids, aged five to seventeen, with whom she crossed paths on a daily basis. They’d grown to be the family she’d never belonged to and had always longed for. Having spent the better part of her childhood at Mountain Light herself, she knew good and well the importance of even the smallest gestures of kindness. Now, she refused to let the kids down when it came to hosting the Christmas party they eagerly looked forward to all year…even if it killed her.
And it might…heatstroke was an option, or she simply might just melt to death. The tune “Frosty the Snowman ” suddenly danced through Faith’s head and a stab of sadness pierced her heart as she imagined Frosty slowly dissolving into a
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