Free Just Shy of Harmony by Philip Gulley Page A

paid. They had more money than they knew what to do with. But at that moment Jessie would have paid a million dollars to have her grandma’s quilt back.
    She didn’t say that to Asa. She just wiggled into him and said, “I love you, honey.”
    “I love you back.”
    He reached up and turned off the light above the bed and fell asleep.
    Jessie eased the covers off and stole over to the blanket chest. She took one of her grandmother’s quilts and spread it on the bed, then got underneath the covers. Smelling the quilt and the memories behind it, she went to sleep.

Nine
A Dubious Blessing
    J essie Peacock was glad she’d told Asa about accepting the lottery money, especially since it was the headline story in that week’s edition of the Harmony Herald. When they went to church that Sunday and the offering plate drew near their row, Bea Majors stopped playing the organ, raised off her seat, and peered at Asa to see if he would give anything. All across the meeting room, people were watching.
    The offering plate stopped at row six while Fern Hampton fumbled in her purse for two dollars. Then it was passed to the Wayne Fleming and Deena Morrison pew, formerly the Wilbur Matthews pew. Deena dropped her offering in the plate, then handed it to Dale Hinshaw, the morning’s usher, who executed a well-rehearsed backward full step with a half turn to row eight—the Jessie and Asa Peacock pew.
    Wayne and Deena hadn’t read the Herald. They couldn’t figure out why everyone was staring at them. Then Fern Hampton whispered, “Hey, you’reblocking my view. Slide over,” and that’s when they realized people were looking at Jessie and Asa, not them.
    Wayne slid over and turned to watch, just as Asa eased a check from his billfold, placed it in the offering, and passed the plate to Dale. Dale plucked the check from the plate, unfolded it, and read the numbers.
    “Yep, they tithed. Three hundred and fifty thousand dollars,” he announced to the congregation.
    Bea Majors resumed her playing, but no one was listening. They were turned in their pews, talking to one another.
    “Seems they could have given a little more, what with all the money they won,” Fern Hampton commented to Charlie and Gloria Gardner.
    “Maybe this means we can get some uniforms for our new basketball team,” Bill Muldock whispered to his brother, Harvey.
    Dale Hinshaw was thinking to himself: If I had twenty thousand of that, I could take the Scripture egg project international. Maybe even ship some eggs to the Muslims. His mind reeled at the possibilities.
    He and Ellis Hodge made their way down front with the offering and stood in front of the pulpit.
    “Let us pray,” Sam Gardner said. People stopped talking and bowed their heads. Bea Majors softened her organ playing. Lately, she’d been playing the organ while Sam prayed. She’d gotten the idea from watching a TV preacher. Sam didn’t care for it, but she was the only person in the church who knew how to play the organ so she was beyond correction. Occasionally,while Sam was preaching, she would play background music for emphasis.
    “Lord, we thank you for all the gifts you’ve given us. May we use them for your glory,” Sam prayed, while Bea played “We Give Thee but Thine Own.”
    “Amen,” said the congregation, and worship was over.
     
    S am gathered up his sermon notes and tucked them in his Bible. Seventy-seven down, one thousand four hundred and twenty-three sermons to go, he thought. He had twenty-nine years left on a thirty-year mortgage. He’d counted up all the sermons he’d have to preach before his mortgage was paid off. Fifty sermons a year for thirty years equaled fifteen hundred sermons. He’d be sixty-nine years old. He had doubts about whether he’d make it.
    What began as discouragement for Sam in April had by June moved into depression and was now, in mid-August, full-fledged unbelief.
    These people would cause Jesus to become an atheist, Sam told himself.
    The