Chapter Twenty-Five: The Pattern
By Jason Goldtrap
Carl did his best to entertain Becky and Sarah as they walked back to the Grandon. He spoke of his parent’s farm back in Carter County, and his wrestling victories.
As they walked Becky said,
“I can’t wait to tell my roommate, Jenny.”
Sarah stopped dead in her tracks.
“Oh no, oh no! Emily?”
“Whom?”
“Emily, my roommate. We separated at the Chrysanthemum Ball, I guess we lost track of each other.”
Becky looked to Carl for clues; he did not know what to say either. “Sarah, she’s probably back in the Grandon sound asleep.”
Sarah agreed and they continued. When they reached the hotel entrance, Becky and then Sarah kissed Carl on the cheek.
He swished his mouth and said, “Um, um, um, I um.”
The girls shared a laugh. He fumbled with his hair.
“Goodnight.”
They waved as he faded into the blackened streets of Helena. Someone caught Becky’s eye, she raced to the other side of the lobby hugged another girl and began to cry. Sarah went up to her room.
When she got to her room the light was off. She turned it on but Emily was not there and a few of her things were missing. There was a small piece of paper folded and in the center of her bed.
“Sarah,
Sorry we missed each other. Jan invited me to spend the night at her place. I’ll see you tomorrow.
Em.”
Sarah held the note a minute, not knowing what to think. Disappointed, she said to herself,
“Alone? Alone? I have to spend the night here alone?”
She sat on her bed trying to read a brochure on Helena but her mind was as chaotic as a runaway train. Eagle Creek seemed like it was a million miles away and in another century. She turned off the lights and crawled under the covers. She stared at Emily’s bed. She had so much to tell but no one would listen. She heard other girls talking as they walked down the hall. Their laughter made her lonely.
When morning came, Sarah went downstairs to the buffet breakfast. She asked for a table for three. She sat alone, looking over the drink menu.
The waiter asked,
“What can I get for a lovely lady this morning?”
Sarah giggled and began to say,
“Em, he said I was.…”
And then it occurred to her that Emily was not there. She sighed.
“Orange juice.”
He replied,
“Very good, help yourself to the buffet.”
The other two chairs looked so empty. She felt so stupid.
“Sarah? Sarah?”
A voice distracted her for a moment.
“Jenny, this is Sarah, the girl who was with me last night. Sarah, this is Jenny Davidson, my roommate and best friend from Havre.”
Sarah shook her hand,
“Please to
-yawn-
oh, excuse me, please to meet you.”
Becky said,
“We had a lot of excitement. It was her boyfriend, Simon, who got the purse back for me.”
Becky smiled at Sarah.
“Well, he’s not exactly my boyfriend, he is more of a … but then again… no, no, no he’s a … is there a word for what I am feeling?”
Becky tilted her head and replied coyly,
“I’m not sure, but it sounds divine. Can we join you?”
“What? Oh, no, I am waiting for some friends, maybe some other time.”
Jenny said,
“It was nice meeting you.”
“Give Simon my love.” Becky and Jenny giggled they walked off
Sarah rolled her eyes. She straightened up in her chair.
“I should have let them join me that way Emily could see I can make friends too and she’ll be jealous. Wouldn’t that be a treat? Better yet, when she walks in she trips and falls flat on her… What? What am I thinking?”
She rubbed her eyes; yawned and said to herself,
“I haven't had enough sleep.”
One of the buffet tables had a pyramid of chocolate covered donuts. Emily would be in heaven.
Sarah kept turning toward the door, hopping that Emily would be there any moment. In spite of an abundance of flavorful offerings, the only thing Sarah picked up was a lone croissant with a paddy of butter. Two empty chairs were waiting for her solitary glass of orange juice. She buttered her pastry and took one bite.
She heard a girl’s voice,
“Can we have these two chairs?”
Sarah nodded. The chairs were removed and placed at a table of fourteen.
Sarah left a dime on the table and then went up to her room. No Emily. She reclined on the bed pillows. Bored. Mad. Isolated. She leaned back and picked off threads from her white dress. She kept checking the clock. 9:15, 9:25. 9:35, 9:40.
“I suppose Simon will be happy to see me.”
She went downstairs to the lobby. She found a chair next to the window. She looked out on the busy street like a cat surveying her domain.
Simon smiled when he saw her.
“Sarah?”
“Simon, good morning.”
Jeff asked,
“Heard from Emily?”
“Not yet,”
Sarah conceded.
Simon opened the door of Jeff's car, she climbed in.
Jeff said,
“Lets skeedattle.”
Sarah enjoyed sitting with Simon in the back seat of the car, yet, it felt somewhat askew. Emily had always been there to give her hints on how to react to boys she liked but now, she had to wing it.
Simon pointed at his arm.
“Tony said I’ll have to wear this cast for about three months. I’m right handed, so, it’s no big deal.”
Sarah was relieved.
“Thank the Lord.”
“I already did. Come to think of it, since I’ve been motoring with Jeff, here I am doing a lot more praying.”
Jeff snickered,
“Ha-ha, very funny.”
The streets of Helena were quiet. A light dew made the grass glisten and the trees sparkle like diamonds. Birds were whistling, church bells were ringing. It was so melodic. The car made its way around town and into the parking lot of the Memorial Chapel at Jennings University. Sarah was impressed by the white brick building.
“I hope the speaker’s good. Preacher Sam, back home in Eagle Creek, can be dry as dust.”
Simon began to reply but Jeff turned around and said,
“I assure you he will be a bore. As a matter of fact I almost dozed off telling you about it.”
Simon and Jeff laughed. Sarah nervously chuckled.
The chapel was full of young men and young women, buzzing about in suits and fine dresses with modest hats and white gloves. People kept coming up to Simon asking him about his arm. He was receiving a great deal of sympathetic attention from the college girls. This made Sarah more jealous, but at the same time, she understood the situation.
Sarah kept an eye out for Emily and Jan. She thought she might see them in time.
“Number 516”,
a young man on the stage said in a loud voice. Sarah thumbed through the hymnal but kept looking for her friends.
“I stand amazed in the presence of Jesus the Nazarene
And wonder how he could love me, a sinner, condemned, unclean.”
Eeek! A new song! She did not know how to sing it. She mumbled along to a few other hymns, some familiar, some awkwardly modern.
“O listen to our wondrous story,
Counted once among the lost:
Yet, One came down from heaven’s glory,
Saving us at awful cost!”
Sarah thought.
“Who writes this stuff?”
Jeff leaned over and said,
“The song leader likes all that contemporary tunes. Most of the time, he’s doing a solo.”
Sarah continued scanning for Emily and Jan. Nothing. After the prayer, an old man came up to the podium. Jeff leaned in again and whispered, “Oh, great here comes mister boring.”
The man cleared his throat. He was so proud to be among such a fine gathering of young people. “Lovely singing this morning. I especially liked the youth music. It’s so… fresh.”
The crowd laughed, not with him but at him.
“For those of you who do not know, I am Gilbert Collins, president emeritus of Jennings University. Our speaker today has been a leader since the first day he arrived at this campus last fall.”
Jeff said,
“Yeah, a leader in getting slapped on dates.”
Sarah laughed to herself.
“This man has become known to everyone.”
“Especially the females.”
Sarah giggled.
“He has received many accolades from his peers.”
“And many death threats from their fathers.”
Sarah giggled again.
“Getting ready to enjoy.…”
“…a 30 minute nap.”
“Please welcome, from Flathead County…”
“…such an appropriate name.”
“Mr. Simon Hastings.”
Sarah’s eyes felt like they were going to pop out of her head as she saw Simon walk up to the podium.
“Good morning. Thank you for letting me speak to you today.”
Another young man came from one of the wings of the stage carrying a wooden cane. He acknowledged Simon and then placed it against the podium.
He turned to the audience and began pantomiming a drummer drumming on a snare.
The audience played along. “Dadalada, Dadalada, Dadalada, Dadalada.”
Simon picked up the cane, tossed it one foot in the air and then caught it on his right index finger. He balanced the cane.
The audience clapped.
“Balance is the key to life.”
He spoke as he kept the cane vertical.
“If I keep my eyes towards the top of the cane and adjust my hand accordingly then I will stay in perfect balance. The cane will not fall.
If I focus on the audience,”
the cane leaned to the right,
“Whoa, whoa, you see what happens? I lose balance. If I glance down at my hand, for only a split second…,”
Simon quickly looked down to his hand and when he did the cane leaned to the right and almost fell:
“Whoa Nellie, I gotcha.”
Simon laughed as did the audience.
“I can only be in balance if I pay attention to the top of the cane and adjust myself accordingly. To be in balance I must play by a higher law, called gravity, which was made by our Heavenly Father. He is the author of gravity, as well as all other mechanics of the universe. I have the cane balancing not because I understand everything about physics, Professor Craddock will testify to that, I just need to know about one thing the power of gravity and I must respect this force to stay in balance.”
He kept it high and proud.
“Romans 12:2 says, ‘And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God.’ Another way to think of that is to think of a dress pattern, in essence Paul is telling us do not fall into the ways of the world.
So what are the ways of the world? Well, some are obvious, lying, cheating, stealing, and, how shall I put this in mixed company?”
The audience chuckled.
“Maybe you just did it for me….”
The audience laughed again.
“Certainly, avoiding these is all well and good, but, I submit to you, that we need more.”
He put down the cane and leaned against it.
“We do not need to follow the pattern of this world. What is the pattern of this world but to deceive each other, to speak falsely, to be in a rush, a race to get ahead to be the first in all, the best in the room. Pish posh. I am a proponent of achievement as much as I am an opponent of laziness. That being said, to define your self worth by your achievements is foolishness and an invitation to disappoint because you will be remorseful if you come in second place. You will be jealous of the winner instead of celebrating in their new found glory….”
Sarah thought,
“Or new found friends.”
“Satan, our foe, whom the Savior identifies as the ‘prince of this world’ in John chapter 12, wants you to believe lies. The lies that say, ‘my way is best. My feelings count more than yours. I must work my fingers to the bone, get in debt and risk bankruptcy to look like a success. I must destroy the happy relationships of others to support the notion that friendship does not matter. In a word, Me. Me. Me. Me. Me! It’s as though some of us were rats in a maze ever sniffing for a morsel of cheese.”
He yelled as he held the cane aloft,
“Friends, I am not a rat.”
Simon paused.
“It’s all about me, what makes me happy. We even bring that childish attitude before the Throne of God.
‘Lord, give me this, give me that. Give me her; give me him. Sorry, but church is boring. Its sooooo long and you have to be quiet, listen and think about something else other than my happiness. I have to get out of here, no time for drudgery, no time for long winded prayers, for sermons which are not the highlight of an otherwise non-entertaining day. Make me happy God or I’m going elsewhere because church is dull.’”
The audience was silent, they had all thought that before but most chose never to admit it.
“The solution to selfishness, misery, is to focus on God and let Him transform your life by breaking the pattern of this world. But still because of our weak, flawed state we are drawn to the flash of excitement, especially as young people. Friends don’t be enslaved to your wants, your emotions, your will, submit to God.
Know that God promises a bounty of blessings, for those who diligently seek to do His will. And those blessings are unbelievably, unfathomably wondrous.
Friends, if you do not tremble Beneath the Cross of Jesus; if you cannot smile when you sing Joy to the World, the Lord is Come; if you cannot fall to your knees and bless the God who gave you Amazing Grace; if you cannot feel the warmth of Christian fellowship as we sing, We Gather Together to Ask the Lord’s Blessing; if none of these concepts move you, break you, free you, then I believe it is not church that is boring it is you who are boring.
Do you not know the awesome power of Him whom we serve? In 1817, Benjamin Beddome wrote:
God is the fountain whence
Ten thousand blessings flow;
To Him my life, my health, and friends,
And ev’ry good I owe.
If you know this song, sing along with me.
The comforts he affords
Are neither few nor small;
He is the source of fresh delights,
My portion and my all.
He fills my heart with joy,
My lips attunes for praise;
And to His glory I’ll devote
The remnant of my days.
The joy I speak of is not some high minded fancy but a real, solid, attainable lifestyle where in the supernal mind shines like the sun and the temporal one dissipates like the morning mist. It is as real as….”
He pointed to the back, left corner of the auditorium: “As real as the Students Center.”
Sarah was curious. “What did that mean?”
“Many years ago a young lady traveled from far away to attend Jennings. She would be the first one in her family and the first woman in her county, to enter college. She was excited, as we all are, at first, but soon, the hobgoblins of unhappiness and loneliness crept in. She did not have a roommate, no companion in whom to confide and get advice. She was solitary, miserable, she felt as though everyone had friends… except her.”
Sarah knew that feeling.
“One day she went to lunch in the cafeteria, beneath the old administration building. It was poorly lit, dank, a morose and sullen place. Even for a campus filled with young people, it was usually quiet. Just rush in ‘the dungeon’ as they called it and rush out. She often ate alone, and she hated doing that. It was as though the food had no taste, it was bland as her life. And then one day, she decided to no longer think that way, or, to longer conform to the pattern of this world.
Instead of eating breakfast all by herself she looked around and saw a stranger eating by himself, and she joined him. I know what some of you are thinking, ‘Yes, ok, and this stranger became her husband.’ You would be wrong. They just talked, she made a new friend. At lunch she found a young lady eating alone, she joined her. They ate, told stories and compared notes on available fellows.”
The ladies laughed.
“For dinner, she did the same. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, every meal, it was someone new and different. She was a one woman welcoming committee. She loved her unofficial station in the life of Jennings University, but at the same time, she hated that cafeteria.
She wrote a letter to the Board of Regents asking for a new dining hall. They sent a polite note in return, ‘No. Too much money, also, we already have one.’ She was disappointed, but not discouraged.
She wrote a letter to the Jennings Journal. Nice editorial, no response from the students.
‘What if,’ she thought, ‘what if interested students for Jennings could come here and enjoy the facilities and learn about college life. That would be grand, however, with no students center, what message would we be sending potential students? But, even so, the idea is not without merit.’
She wrote a letter to the Board of Regents again. And this time… they said, ‘No.’ She wrote another letter to the paper, ‘Not interested.’ If there was to be one it would be up to her to make it happen.
What could she do? She got a job in the cafeteria. After working there a couple of months she made a list, along with her fellow dishwashers, hostesses and servers, of what they would like to see in a cafeteria. No limits, except that imagined. If Jennings University owned all the gold in Montana, what would a cafeteria look like? She spend many hours after work, after school, in a dark, dingy, suffocating cafeteria talking to people for whom attending college would be a ridiculous fantasy.
With the help of an artist, she designed the greatest, the biggest, the most ornate, the most opulent Students Center in the West. It would cost $100,000 to build. Needless to say, the Board of Regents laughed at her. However, they gave her a caveat, ‘If you raise the money, we’ll build it to your specifications.’ And, I might add, they were serious. She looked them dead in the eyes and said, ‘I accept this challenge.’
She did not know how to raise money, so, she did not know how to fail. She read in a newspaper that Helena was the Millionaires’ Capitol because of the plethora of wealthy people in this town. She made appointments and went to each of them to ask for the funds. And she did this, mind you, while attending school and working at the cafeteria.
Sometimes her appointments were on Sunday nights at 8:45, no bother; ‘I’ll be there’ she would say. Other appointments were on Christmas Day or 8:00 am in between classes. ‘I’ll be there’ she would promise and she would be there on time, with drawings and unwilling to accept anything less than a substantial donation.
At the end of five months she made an appointment to, once again, see the Board of Regents. The spry, commonly attired, tender, determined nineteen-year-old entered into the stately oak paneled room to the middle aged men with beards and suits and degrees. She reeked of dish soap; her hands were wrinkled from over washing and drying.
She walked in with a portfolio of drawings and stacks of promissory notes which did not total $100,000 but $110,000. ‘Oh, by the way,’ she said, ‘I’d like there to be a weekend in which potential students could come and experience college life.’ They agreed. The chair person stood up and announced, ‘Whatever Anna Sorrento wants she will have, gentleman.’”
At this, many of the visitors gasped.
“Yes, I said, ‘Anna Sorrento.’ She was the nice old lady you met yesterday when you went to lunch in the Students Center which, incidentally, remains unmatched, not in the American West, but unmatched in the entire world. She designed, supervised and even helped put pipes in the washroom because she loves you, the potential students, that much. Even if you opt to not attend Jennings University you can still enjoy a delightful weekend of music, games, tours, make new friends, all because Anna Sorrento had a dream and would not follow the pattern of this world which told her to ‘drop it.’ She listened to her heart; she listened to God who promised that those who seek first to serve in His Kingdom will be blessed beyond all human comprehension. To honor her indelible spirit we have a dance featuring her favorite flower, the Chrysanthemum.
When you went to the Students Center you saw two things of utmost importance. You saw Anna Sorrento, smiling and warmly welcoming you into her palace and you saw a sign in Latin, nunquam epulor unus which means… Never Eat Alone.
When you focus on yourself, when you pay attention only to your needs instead of the needs of others you will be miserable. But if you are tuned in to the ways of God you will realize that you never walk alone. Also, you will find ways to serve your fellow man and make new friends, thereby, spreading what I like to call, the Greatest News. The Greatest News is that God cares for you and you are His child and no thing, no one, can ever separate you from His love. Thank you for your time.”
The audience stood up and cheered. Sarah was so proud. Her feelings for Simon were changing. It wasn’t really infatuation or desire it was a profound, deep respect for him as a person.
