From my inbox...

MAGNOLIAS

 By Edna Ellison

I spent the week before my daughter's June wedding
 running last-minute trips to the caterer, florist,
 tuxedo shop, and the church about forty miles away.

 As happy as I was that Patsy was marrying a good
 Christian young man, I felt laden with
 responsibilities as I watched my budget dwindle . . .

So many details, so many bills, and so little time.
 My son Jack was away at college, but he said he would
 be there to walk his younger sister down the aisle,
 taking the place of his dad who had died a few years
 before.

 He teased Patsy, saying he'd wanted to give her away
 since she was about three years old!

 To save money, I gathered blossoms from several
 friends who had large magnolia trees. Their luscious,
 creamy-white blooms and slick green leaves would make
 beautiful arrangements against the rich dark wood
 inside the church.

 After the rehearsal dinner the night before the
 wedding, we banked the podium area and choir loft with
 magnolias. As we left just before  midnight, I felt
 tired but satisfied this would be the best wedding any
 bride had ever had!

 The music, the ceremony, the reception - and
 especially the flowers - would be remembered for
 years.

 The big day arrived - the busiest day of my life -
 and while her bridesmaids helped Patsy to dress, her
 fianci Tim walked with me to the  sanctuary to do a
 final check. When we opened the door and felt a rush
 of hot air, I almost fainted; and then I saw them -
 all the beautiful white  flowers were black.

 Funeral black. An electrical storm during the night
 had knocked out the air conditioning system, and on
 that hot summer day, the flowers had wilted and died.

 I panicked, knowing I didn't have time to drive back
 to our hometown, gather more flowers, and return in
 time for the wedding.

 Tim turned to me.  "Edna, can you get more flowers?

 I'll throw away these dead ones and put fresh flowers
 in these arrangements."

 I mumbled, "Sure," as he be-bopped down the hall to
 put on his cuff links.

 Alone in the large sanctuary, I looked up at the dark
 wooden beams in the arched ceiling. "Lord," I prayed,
 "please help me. I don't know anyone in this town.
 Help me find someone willing to give me flowers
 - in a hurry!"

 I scurried out praying for four things: the blessing
 of white magnolias, courage to find them in an
 unfamiliar yard, safety from any dog that may bite my
 leg, and a nice person who would not get out a shotgun
 when I asked to cut his tree to shreds.

 As I left the church, I saw magnolia trees in the
 distance. I approached a house... No dog in sight.

 I knocked on the door and an older man answered. So
 far so good . . . No shotgun. When I stated my plea
 the man beamed, "I'd be happy to!"

 He climbed a stepladder and cut large boughs and
 handed them down to me. Minutes later, as I lifted the
 last armload into my car trunk, I said, "Sir, you've
 made the mother of a bride happy today."

 "No, Ma'am," he said. "You don't understand what's
 happening here."

 "What?" I asked.

 "You see, my wife of sixty-seven years died on
 Monday. On Tuesday I received friends at the funeral
 home, and on Wednesday . . . He paused. I saw tears
 welling up in his eyes. "On Wednesday I buried her."
 He looked away. "On Thursday most of my out-of-town
 relatives went back home, and on Friday - yesterday -
 my children left."

 I nodded.

 "This morning," he continued, "I was sitting in my
 den crying out loud. I miss her so much. For the last
sixteen years, as her health got worse, she needed me.
 But now nobody needs me. This morning I cried,  'Who
 needs an eighty-six-year-old wore-out man? Nobody!' I
 began to cry louder.  'Nobody needs me!' About that
 time, you knocked, and said, "Sir, I need you."

 I stood with my mouth open.

He asked, "Are you an angel? The way the light shone
 around your head into my dark living room..."

 I assured him I was no angel.

 He smiled. "Do you know what I was thinking when I
 handed you those magnolias?"

"No.""No."

 "I decided I'm needed. My flowers are needed. Why, I
 might have a flower ministry! I could give them to
 everyone!

 Some caskets at the funeral home have no flowers.
 People need flowers at times like that and I have lots
 of them. They're all over the backyard! I can give
 them to hospitals, churches - all sorts of places. You
 know what I'm going to do?

 I'm going to serve the Lord until the day He calls me
 home!"

 I drove back to the church, filled with wonder. On
 Patsy's wedding day, if anyone had asked me to
 encourage someone who was hurting, I would have said,
 "Forget it! It's my only daughter's wedding, for
 goodness' sake!
 There is no way I can minister to anyone today."

 But God found a way. Through dead flowers.

 "Life is not the way it's supposed to be. It's the
 way it is. The way you cope with it is what makes the
 difference."