© 2005 W.D.Kennedy 41 Birch Road Malvern PA 19355 610-695-9419 kennedyw@whiteandwilliams.com

here’s one more need we have to address,” Rev. Godfrey Swench told his assembled staff at the end of their weekly meeting a fortnight before Christmas. He called on

Betty Jo Bunchfeather. The Missions Coordinator explained, “The Church

signed up to ring Salvation Army bells outside Grunwald’s Greengrocery next Wednesday from 4 to 8 p.m. So far, we haven’t any volunteers.”

Education Superintendent Eloise Ellsworth innocently asked, “Why not make an announcement before worship?”

“Hah,” Godfrey sniffed, “We did -- for the past two Sundays! Plus it’s in the weekly bulletin, it was in the December newsletter, and I posted a message on the web site.” He sighed. “You know, if the shepherds in the fields outside of Bethlehem paid as little attention to the angels’ announcement as Yellow Springers pay to our announcements, they’d have entirely missed the baby Jesus!”

Music Director Al Tavoysis quipped, “Yes, but remember, it took a whole choir of angels to get the point across.” Then his eyes widened. “I’ve got it!” he cried. “Godfrey, leave it to me – I know how to get people to listen to the announcements this week!”

And so this past Sunday, just before the opening hymn, the choir rose and sang to the familiar tune of Away in a Manger,

“We need some more people to help ring a bell So Salvation Army’s red kettles will swell; If you could help out for an hour or so, Then sign up your name or please call Betty Jo.”

T

Bill Kennedy

-2-

In December, it can be just that difficult for people in Conestoga County to carve out time for special activities. The holidays add so much life to everyone, but sometimes, they seem to take out so much life, too. Purchases, parties, and pageants overwhelm even the heartiest revelers.

Martha Munkdunk had a very personal reason for choosing this season for a gathering of disparate people. Martha had been looking forward to the evening, and when the doorbell rang, setting off a programmed, electronic warbling of “Dona Nobis Pacem”, her creased eyes blazed with excitement. She scampered down the front hallway with a youthfulness that belied her six-plus decades. “Come in, come in!” she cried gaily.

Martha exchanged hugs with her snowy guests. Some knew each other, but she had to introduce her visiting grandchildren. “Everyone,” she said, “this is Addison and Mindy -- Matthew and Melanie’s lovely daughters. Girls, you know Godfrey Swench from the Church.” Then she presented Dr. Art Ehry. “You probably don’t know my attorney, Deidre Fender. And last, but hardly least, this is a new friend, Carol Kift.”

Christmas carols recorded by singers from the 1940’s wafted through the stereo. Guests flowed between the living room and the spread of sumptuous cakes, pies, and sweets on the dining room table. Addison and Mindy watched the group with polite confusion before the younger one asked, “Gramma, who are all these people?”

Godfrey Swench chuckled, knowing there was no easy answer. Martha answered, “Oh, it’s quite a long story. These are all very special people in my life.” Had she stopped right there, the ensuing conversation could have been avoided, but she made the mistake of adding a tag line, “It’s really a grown-up matter.”

Mindy dropped her jaw and raised her eyebrows. “Addy says you told her,” she protested haughtily. “I’m nearly as old as her!”

“Well, dear, I’ve only told Addison a little bit.”

So of course the older girl insisted she be told the whole story, the younger daughter demanded to know the secret, and the guests tittered at the intramural dispute. Martha looked around the room doubtfully. Carol Kift touched Martha’s elbow, “Go on -- tell them.”

“Well,” Martha said reluctantly, “I suppose I have to go back over ten years.” Taking a seat between the girls on the couch, Martha began, “Back then, your grandfather and I owned a business here in Yellow Springs.”

Mindy furrowed her eyebrows at this news. “What business?”

Her father explained, “You know down in the village, next to Flegelhoffer’s Fair Value? Well, that’s where my folks used to run a typesetting company. Dad printed newsletters, documents, fancy announcements, and wedding invitations – things like that. He called it The Printing Press.”

“I didn’t know that was your family,” Dr. Ehry remarked. “It’s now the Kosher Kabinet – that’s where I got Hanukkah gifts this year. Say, did you know that our Hannukah begins on your Christmas this year?”

With impatient indifference, Mindy refocused the conversation. “What happened to the Printing Press?”

Martha explained, “Well, about ten years ago, maybe longer, the world was becoming digital, and The Printing Press didn’t really keep up. Customers were going to newer, modern chain stores that could handle documents and ads made up on a computer. We were having trouble keeping the shop open.”

Martha paused, took a sip of her wine as if to steel herself, and continued. “It could get quite involved here, girls, but that would miss the point. The short story is that after your grandfather died, I did a pretty poor job of running the place.” Martha sighed, “I should have thrown in the towel and closed the business, but I didn’t want to.”

“Why not, Gramma?”

-3-

“I’ve asked myself that a lot,” Martha reflected. “I guess the answer boils down to pride. I didn’t want to think of myself as a failure. And we had people working at the Store who depended on it for their living, to support their families. I didn’t want to fail them. I didn’t I want to fail the memory of your grandfather -- or fail myself. I worried about it day and night, all the while taking terrible care of my body.”

Mindy asked, “What’s your body have to do with anything?”

“Everything, actually,” Martha considered. “What I mean, dear, is I was working so hard on the business that I was making myself sick. I didn’t eat right, I didn’t exercise, I couldn’t sleep, and one day, I went to see Dr. Ehry for concerns about my heart. He found out I was in a lot of danger.”

“Blocked pipes; poor pumper,” the cardiologist quipped.

“I had a bypass operation that helped, but I was still quite sick. And at the same time, I was doing all I could to keep the business alive.” Martha paused, then added, “Some of what I was doing wasn’t quite kosher.”

Addison remarked, “There’s that word again. What’s ‘kosher’?”

Godfrey Swench offered, “’Kosher’ comes from Jewish dietary laws, meaning fit, correct, or proper.”

Dr. Ehry grinned and winked to the protestant pastor. Dee Fender added, “What your Gramma is trying to say is that she temporarily deferred remitting her otherwise mandatory Commonwealth apportionments.”

Mindy looked at the lawyer as if she had spoken in tongues. Her father translated, “There are a lot of kinds of taxes that a business has to pay to the state and local governments. They use the money to spend on things like roads and stuff. For a while, Gramma forgot to send in the money.”

Mindy nodded. “That happened to me once at school. My lunch account was down to zero, so when I tried to buy lunch, the machine thingamabobber wouldn’t let me, and I was supposed to bring in more money the next day, but I forgot.”

“Now, hold on a minute, everyone,” Martha resumed control. “There’s no need to varnish the truth. I didn’t ‘forget’ to pay the money – I consciously chose not to. I thought I had good reasons – the money I should have paid in taxes was used to keep the business afloat -- but really, they weren’t good reasons, just excuses. I am ashamed of what I did, kids, and thanks to some help from your father, I have since paid back to the government all the money I owed.”

“Plus interest and hefty fines,” Dee Fender muttered. “… but you should know, dear,” Martha continued,

“what I did was wrong and foolish and, it turns out, illegal.”

Mindy’s eyes widened. “You’re a criminal?” The room erupted in protest. Addison sprang to her

grandmother’s defense. “But Gramma, that’s not fair! I mean – if you paid all those taxes, you wouldn’t have had enough money to pay the people who worked for you!”

“Dear, sweet, Addison,” Martha soothed, “I appreciate that you want to see me only in the best of light, but it does me no good to cling to excuses. I knew I was wrong at the time, and I did it anyhow. And I’ve paid quite a penalty, both in terms of my health and the law. I had to hire a lawyer,” she nodded to Dee, “and go see the Judge.”

“You went to court?!?” Turning to her father, Mindy demanded, “I never heard about this! Why didn’t you tell me?!?” Then she added, challengingly, “Did you tell Addison that part?”

Matthew answered doubtfully, “I didn’t tell either of you because you were too young to understand; I’m thinking maybe you still are.”

-4-

Martha continued, “Also, by that time, Dr. Ehry and the specialists he sent me to had shared even worse news: my heart was so sick, that I wasn’t likely to live much longer.”

Mindy cocked her head as she integrated this news into her memories from the prior year. “You were in the hospital a long time, right? Were you dying?”

Martha nodded, “That’s what they all told me. The bypass operation had done as much good as it could, but what I really needed was something that didn’t even exist all that long ago.”

“What?” Addy asked wide-eyed. “I needed a heart transplant.” “You mean, like, a new heart?” Mindy wondered.

“They can do that?” “It isn’t easy,” Dr. Ehry volunteered. “Most people

who could really use them have so many other problems that they can’t accept a donor heart. But your grandmother checked out well, so we added her name to the list of possible recipients.”

“But what if you don’t get a new heart on time?” Mindy asked. Then she realized the answer. She was quiet for a moment. “But you’re still here…?”

“Yes,” Martha smiled brightly, “I sure am. And full of life! But I was still quite sick back then. I was in the hospital most of the time except for when I had to deal with my legal problems. That,” she nodded to Carol Kift, “is where Mrs. Kift’s husband comes in.”

Carol set down her dessert plate. “My husband Kevin was a judge here in Conestoga County.”

Matthew added, “Youngest ever to be elected, right?” Dee answered, “Yeah -- and the most popular, too. A

great, wry sense of humor and perspective. He was smart, and hard-working. He was always well prepared for any trial or hearing or motion. His decisions were crisp and accurate. He treated people – his staff, the lawyers, and

the clients we represented – with dignity, even when they didn’t treat him the same way.”

Martha explained, “Some people thought I should have fought the charges against me, but I didn’t want to. I was so sick by then, I didn’t want to waste my last days fighting the legal system.”

“We might have won,” Dee noted. “I might have -- but I shouldn’t have,” Martha

interrupted. “And so when I was finally healthy enough to go to court, I went before Judge Kift to find out what my punishment was going to be. The lawyer for the government thought I should spend some time in jail.”

Addison protested, “But you were sick! You were dying! Didn’t anybody care about that?!?”

Martha smiled warmly. “Judge Kift did. He knew all about what I had done, but he also read my medical reports, and he listened to me when I explained how sorry I was for what I did. And he believed me.”

Dee Fender boasted, “I had a great argument. ‘Jail time would serve no purpose, Your Honor – she’s already under a death sentence!’”

Martha cringed. “What she means, Dear, is that the judge knew that without a heart transplant, it was very likely I would not have been able to live very long. He could have sentenced me to spend my last days in prison, but instead he chose to make me pay a fine and gave me probation. But that wasn’t all Judge Kift made me do.”

“Yes it was,” Dee argued legally. “No,” Martha explained, “He also made me take a

good look at my life. I can still recall what he told me, almost word for word: ‘Mrs. Munkdunk,’ he said, ‘most of us do not have the luxury of knowing just how little time we have left. You do.’ He suggested I get my affairs in order. Then he said, ‘And if you are fortunate enough to have your days multiplied, you must find a way to be a blessing to others.’”

Mindy wondered, “What’s that mean?”

-5-

“He meant that I was lucky to have the chance to say sorry to the people I had harmed and disappointed -- the chance to let my family know how much I love them, and also, to get things square with God.”

“How do you do that?” Addison asked. “Ahh, finally, we get to my part of the story,” Godfrey

beamed. “That’s right,” Martha agreed. “So one day just before

last Christmas, I went to go talk to Godfrey. I hadn’t really been much of a Christian in a long time. I didn’t think God would really forgive me for what I had done.”

Mindy turned to Godfrey. “So what’d you say?” The pastor reflected for a moment. “Well, we talked

about how much God loves people despite our sins, or the hurtful, dumb, proud things we do. And yet if we are willing to face up to what we’ve done wrong, God will forgive us.”

Martha added, “Godfrey helped me think differently than I had before. I left Godfrey’s office and went down the hallway into the quiet sanctuary. Now, your dad can tell you, girls, but I was never really overt about my faith.”

“What’s overt mean?” “I guess what I mean is that I had never really had to

focus on what I believed before. Maybe I hadn’t really decided what I believed before. But that day last December, I decided to set aside my pride. I needed a real change of heart. I prayed in that dark, musty, quiet, brooding old sanctuary and asked God to forgive me, and to help me in whatever little time I had left.”

Martha felt self-conscious with all eyes on her. “It was hard getting up,” she twinkled. “I had never prayed on my knees before, and let me tell you, those floors are hard!”

Godfrey joked, “Maybe the Episcopalians and Catholics have it right – they have cushions.”

Dr. Ehry mused, “What odd customs you all have.”

Martha chuckled. “Well, I got up and was about to go out to the car where your sweet mother had been patiently waiting for me the whole time, but I realized I was missing something – something so important that finding it was a matter of life and death.”

“What was it?” Mindy asked eagerly. “A cell phone.” Addison wondered, “Why was a cell phone so

important? I mean, I know you don’t want to lose it, but … ‘life and death’?”

Matthew joked, “I’ll remind you of that in a few years when you’re a teenager!”

Dr. Ehry explained, “When you are on the list for a new organ, the transplant organization has to be able to reach you at any time. When an organ becomes available, they check the records and see who is the right match. Then we call them and they have to get to a hospital right away – no matter what they’re doing or where they are or what time of day it is.”

Martha added, “I never had a cell phone before going on the transplant list, but they insisted I get one. Only at the church that day, I was about to leave – I had gotten my winter coat on and everything – and I couldn’t find the silly telephone.”

Godfrey recalled, “There was your poor grandmother – just a few days out of the hospital for cardiac problems, and she looked like she was about to have another heart attack! She was looking all over the place for that phone.”

Martha grinned at the memory. “I couldn’t imagine where it was – I checked my coat, my purse -- I looked on the pews and on the ground. It wasn’t anywhere.”

Godfrey remembered, “We went back to my office, where we had spoken earlier, and looked all over for it.”

Addison asked, “Why didn’t you just call your own number from another phone? Then when it rang, you’d hear it.”

-6-

Martha beamed with delight. “Oh what a bright young girl you are! In fact, that’s what Godfrey said to do. The only problem was – I didn’t know my own number!”

Mindy’s expression suggested she thought that the knowledge of one’s own phone number was information everyone acquired in Kindergarten. Martha noticed, and added, “Remember: I had never owned a cell phone before, and I hadn’t even used it once.”

Matthew recalled, “You phoned me from the church phone and asked me to call you on the cell. I’m glad I had your number written down somewhere.”

“So Godfrey and I were standing there in the church office, our ears peeled to hear the missing cell phone, wherever it may have been. We waited, and then as I stood over by the secretary’s desk, from somewhere behind me, I heard a muffled chirping! I turned around to look where the sound was coming from – but I couldn’t find it.”

“The phone kept ringing,” Godfrey recalled, “and for the life of me, I couldn’t tell where it was coming from! First it seemed to be over by the hall door, then it seemed to be near the opposite window, then on the third ring, I thought it was coming from over near the photocopier. I was turning around in circles!”

“Me, too,” Martha laughed merrily. “Then the phone stopped ringing, and we still hadn’t found it. I had to call your father back …” Martha started laughing so hard she couldn’t finish the sentence.

Matthew giggled, “My first call had gone into voice mail.”

Martha got her breath back, “So your father calls a second time, and it was the same thing – four rings that seemed to come from all over the place. He called back a third time, and by now, I was really beginning to work up a sweat. I was still in my winter parka, and I was getting overheated – and of course the whole reason for having the phone was that my ticker wasn’t good.” Martha’s

laugh mounted, “I took off my long, fluffy coat, and the phone rang again….”

Godfrey’s face was beet-red with amusement as he recalled, “The phone rang just as you took your coat off, and then,” he guffawed, “I saw where it had been the whole time.”

“Where?” Mindy asked with gleeful anticipation. Martha and Godfrey were laughing too hard to speak.

Even the guests who knew the tale were laughing too hard to finish. Finally, as tears welled in Martha’s eyes, she calmed down enough to say, “The phone was clipped to my belt in the back! It was on my waist, right, smack-dab in the middle of my back the whole darn time! So every time I heard the ringing from somewhere behind me, I’d turn around, only to hear it ringing from behind me again! Wherever I stood, the ringing always seemed to be coming from behind me,” she hooted, “because it was behind me the whole time!”

The room burst into another round of hearty laughter. Finally, Dr. Ehry asked, “That’s not all, though, is it?”

“Oh, no – not at all. The phone rang again, and finally, I answered it – to let your Dad know he could stop calling.”

“Only it wasn’t me calling,” Matthew added. Addison didn’t follow. “But you were the one calling

her so she could hear the ringer and find her phone.” “Right – I was. But after four rings each time, I had to

hang up so that didn’t go into her voice mail again. And that last time, in the moment that it took me to redial her number, another call came in.”

“From who?” Mindy asked, quite confused by this point.

Dr. Ehry tried to restore sobriety as he answered, “From the transplant people. They were calling to tell your Gramma that they had a possible donor heart, and that she needed to come to the hospital right away.”

-7-

A chill rushed down several spines. Martha continued. “It was the only call that ever got through to me on that phone. I was so stunned, I nearly had a heart attack right there in the church office! But Godfrey got me out to the car, and your mother rushed me over to the hospital.”

Dr. Ehry said, “You see, kids, the previous evening, there had been a tragic car accident, and a fellow who was driving home from work had been badly hurt. Surgeons operated on him through the night, but ….” Dr. Ehry let his voice drift off.

Mindy understood. Quietly, she asked, “He died?” “Yes,” Dr. Ehry answered gently. “But he had already

made arrangements so that we could use his organs for transplanting into someone who needed them. His heart was strong and sound, and, incredibly, once they ran all the tests, they found that the best match for it was someone right here in Yellow Springs.” He paused, then he added, “Your Gramma.”

Addison asked, “So you got that man’s … heart?” Martha smiled. “No sooner had I asked for a change

of spiritual heart while praying in the sanctuary then I actually got a real one at the hospital!”

Quietly, Godfrey offered, “That is what the incarnation of God in Christ is all about, isn’t it?”

Martha wagged her finger at him. “Oh, Godfrey Swench – always ready to preach a little sermon, aren’t you?”

Addison seemed distracted. “I feel sorry for the man who died. Did they tell you who he was?”

“I feel sorry for him, too, dear,” Martha shared. “They have rules against telling you who the donor was, but I actually found out all by myself. You see, after my transplant, I was in the hospital for a long time, testing to see if my body accepted the new heart. While there, I read article in The Searchlight about a man who had died in a car accident. The man’s wife was quoted as saying that as

hard as it was to lose her husband, especially at Christmas time, at least they were able to salvage his heart and give it to the transplant people to give to someone else.”

Mindy wondered, “How did you know that you’re the one who got it?”

“At first, I didn’t, but I recognized the name of the man who died, and whether his heart went to me or someone else like me, I wanted to thank his family. So after I got out of the hospital, I met Carol,” she nodded to Mrs. Kift.

Addison sputtered, “But – but she’s the wife of the judge you had to go to!”

Mindy added, “Yeah – the judge who gave you prohibition …”

“You mean ‘probation’,” Dee corrected. Mindy waved a dismissive hand. “Whatever. He’s the

judge who didn’t make you go to jail!” The two grandchildren turned their attention to Mrs.

Kift, who was trying to smile, but a slow tear welled in her eye. “Your grandmother,” she said, “was the very last person Kevin ever sentenced,” she added when she found her voice. “After that, he had a few weeks to do his chambers paperwork, which he had fallen behind on – that’s why he was working so late that night.”

The girls knew she was talking about the night he died in the car accident Dr. Ehry had mentioned a moment ago. “And the Judge’s heart,” Addison concluded, “is ….” She pointed to Martha, who nodded.

“Cool!” reacted Mindy. “So you’re still alive,” she said to her grandmother, “and so is a part of your husband,” she said Carol.

Martha added, “It’s been a year now, and the doctors think I’m out of the woods. Judge Kift’s heart is keeping me going. You girls asked who all these people are, and now you know: they, and the people they represent, are the ones who gave me life.”

-8-

The room fell silent. Then Matthew raised his glass. “Shall we have a toast?”

Everyone, even the children, raised their drinks. “To Judge Kift,” proposed Dee Fender. Godfrey added, “To the doctors and nurses.” Dr. Ehry added, “To life – l’chaim!” The guests clinked glasses. Quietly, Godfrey Swench

mused, “Amazing.” “What’s that?” Matthew asked. “Oh – I was just marveling how Judge Kift judged you

in accordance with the law, then he showed you mercy, and then, when he was done with that, he died, with the result being that you got your new heart – physically and spiritually.”

“There you go again,” Martha poked at her pastor, “always looking for a sermon.”

Godfrey blushed. “I’m sorry – occupational hazard. It’s just that somehow, the more I think about what happened between all of us, I can’t help but think there’s a message in there somewhere.”

In memory of Kevin Kift Kachejian, 1962-2005,

friend and judicial law clerk,

who gave his heart to all he met.

The Organ Procurement and Transplant Network has over 90,000 people on its waiting list for transplants of the heart, lungs, kidney, and other organs and tissues. To learn more

about organ donation, visit www.shareyourlife.org, www.optn.org (Organ Procurement and Transplant

Network),or www.unos.org (United Network for Organ Sharing).