Free Summer Sanctuary by Laurie Gray

enough for Mom and Dad to see me. I heard the garage door close, then voices in the kitchen. I couldn’t make out what they were saying until they came into the living room and sat on the couch.
    â€œLooks like you were right about that storm,” Mom said.
    â€œThe storm outside doesn’t begin to compare to the tempest at church tonight.” Dad sounded weary.
    â€œSo, did you get anything resolved?” Mom asked.
    â€œThe deacons voted seven to five to let Mrs. Miller bring her dogs to church in exchange for funding the building project,” Dad told her. “Nobody wants toopen the sanctuary up to any and all dogs, but it is hard not to bow to the almighty dollar.”
    â€œBow?” Mom laughed. “More like bow-wow!” Mom was still trying to be funny, but Dad wasn’t laughing. “So, are we just charging admission for dogs?”
    â€œI’m afraid it’s worse than that.” Dad sighed. “The official vote was that given Mrs. Miller’s advanced age and fragile condition, she is disabled, and her dogs are service dogs. By law, we have to admit assistance dogs for the disabled—guide dogs for the blind, hearing dogs for the deaf, and service dogs for the physically disabled,” Dad explained. “The dogs will wear a special harness or backpack to identify them as service dogs. Mrs. Miller has already obtained authorization for handicapped parking.”
    â€œThat’s not so bad, is it, Paul?” Mom asked.
    â€œI haven’t gotten to the bad part yet,” Dad said. I could hear the wind picking up outside, and I was glad that there was lightning to forewarn me of the crashing thunder. I moved further down so I could see my parents, too.
    â€œMrs. Miller also announced that her health is deteriorating,” Dad went on.
    â€œMrs. Miller was at the meeting?” Mom sounded truly surprised.
    â€œBen Arnold told her about the meeting, and she took it upon herself to attend,” Dad explained. “She implied that she’s getting her affairs in order and would leave at least another million to Peace Congregation if the church sees fit to comfort and support her in this difficult time.”
    â€œWhat kind of comfort and support is she looking for?” Mom asked.
    â€œShe’s getting the guesthouse ready so she can hire a personal assistant to stay on the property with her. She’s hired Tom Stone to install an intercom system next week, including the guesthouse and the house, and to make sure everything in the house is in working order.” Dad paused. “And she wants me to interview the applicants, and would like to have someone lined up by the end of the month. I’m to run the ad in Sunday’s classified section.”
    â€œYou would have done that for her anyway, wouldn’t you?” asked Mom. Dad stood up and started pacing.
    â€œThat’s exactly my point!” Dad said with sweeping gestures he usually saved for behind the pulpit. I slidback up a few stairs to be safe. “Here is a longstanding member of our congregation who either thinks she has to hold money over our heads for us to treat her with simple Christian charity, or who thinks that she can buy her way into Heaven as well as everything she wants from the church along the way.”
    â€œGod is not a respecter of persons,” Mom quoted scripture.
    â€œThat’s just the confirmation I was looking for,” Dad said as he sat down and put his arm around Mom. “I think it’s time for a little reminder that God loves us all just the same and isn’t impressed by anybody’s money. First thing tomorrow morning, I’m rewriting my Sunday Independence Day sermon.”
    I was just ready to head back to bed when I heard Dad say, “Oh, the back door of the church was unlocked when I went to take a bag of trash out to the dumpster. I’m sure Matthew told me he locked it last night. I have no idea