Gabriel's Discovery

Susan patted the woman’s hand. “I’ll check there.”

“I hope I’ll see you on Sunday, Mrs. Turner,” said Gabriel. “We have two services. One at eight and one at eleven. And we have a van that can pick you up.”

Mrs. Turner nodded. “Do tell. I didn’t know about that. I’m an early riser, Reverend. I’ll think about taking you up on that eight-o’clock invitation.”

“You said you used to attend Good Shepherd, but stopped. May I ask why?”

“Simple enough,” Mrs. Turner said. “Those sermons were deadly. Preacher put me to sleep. I can sleep at home.”

Gabriel laughed. “Well, I promise to keep you awake for the duration.”

The woman nodded. “Maybe I’ll see you there.”

Susan kissed her cheek and stepped back so Gabriel could say his own farewell. He instead took Mrs. Turner’s hands in his. It wasn’t until she heard Mrs. Turner say “Amen” that Susan realized he’d been quietly praying with her.

“He’s a good one, Susan,” Mrs. Turner called out as they headed down her front steps. “Keep this one.”

Susan’s face flamed.

“So,” Gabriel said. He fell into step beside Susan, who set a brisk pace toward Madison Street. “What’s more embarrassing for you? Having her think we’re a couple or you being associated with a minister?”

Chapter Six

Stunned at the question, Susan almost stumbled over the uneven sidewalk. Before she knew it, Gabriel’s arm was under hers, steadying her.

The first impression she got was of strength, like that of a bulwark. The second was that it felt good to let someone else bear her weight. For so long, Susan had had to fend for herself. So many people depended on her—the twins, the women and children who called Galilee shelter home, the handful of employees and army of volunteers who carried out and made possible the mission of Galilee. They all looked to Susan for guidance, for strength. Not until just now did she realize what a heavy burden it could all be. Heavy, but not unbearable or unwanted.

Regaining her balance, she edged away from him before she could get used to leaning on his strength.

“I… Thank you. I…” She clamped her mouth shut until coherent thoughts decided to come out again. “I’m not embarrassed,” she finally said.

Gabriel looked at her askance, and Susan decided the expression didn’t need to be interpreted.

“Come on,” she said. “We’re headed this way.”

Two houses away from Mrs. Turner’s residence, they turned and headed down a short block until they came to Madison.

“Are we looking for something or someone in particular?”

Susan bit her lower lip. “Sort of.”

They did the same thing on this street that they’d done on the others. Talked to people who were outside on porches or stoops, knocked on doors introducing themselves and leaving brochures about the shelter.

“Do you do this often?”

“About three times a year. Sometimes four. We go to different neighborhoods.”

“And you just do blind calls like this? Walking up to houses and telling people about the shelter?”

Susan nodded.

“Incredible,” he said.

“It’s not so incredible. This is just one small part of the city. It’s too important to overlook. Many of the residents in this neighborhood won’t see fliers or posters at work or hear presentations at a luncheon. They might see an ad in the newspaper, but we can’t afford to run ads all the time. What money we get goes directly to services.”

“That’s not it,” Gabriel said, as they climbed a set of stairs to the last house on the right side of the street. “Look at how much ground we’ve covered today. If church members took the gospel to the street in this way, think of all the good we could do for the community.”

Not seeing a bell, Susan knocked on the front door. A moment later, they heard a man’s gruff voice saying, “Get rid of whoever it is.” A television blared in the background.

The door opened a sliver, just enough for a woman’s eye and mouth to appear behind a chain lock.

Bingo!

“Hi. My name’s Susan Carter and this is Gabriel Dawson. We’re just walking through the neighborhood today, letting people know about some services that are available.”

“Why is the door still open, Alice?” a man hollered.

“We don’t want any,” the woman said.

Susan jammed her foot in the door before the woman could close it. She winced as it bit into her shoe.

“Galilee Shelter,” Susan said softly. “It’s free and help is available twenty-four hours a day.” She tried to slip a brochure to the woman, but Alice shook her head. She glanced down at Susan’s shoe obstructing the door. That’s when Susan saw the black eye the woman had been trying to conceal from view.

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