Free Woodlands by Robin Jones Gunn

don’t know if they would have believed me. Your great-uncle was one of thecandidates. They said Franklin inherited a fortune from Cameron Madison and used his riches to help others.”
    “Was that in the paper?” Seth said, leaning forward.
    “No, it was just what people said at work and at the grocery store. You and I both know your great-uncle is far from wealthy.”
    “Right,” Seth said quickly.
    “It was terrible around work and church for a couple of weeks,” Leah continued. “Everyone assumed the phantom was a male. And then people started writing letters to the editor. You wouldn’t have believed it. Actually, I kept some of the letters.” Leah rose and went over to a bookshelf in the corner and picked up a photo box. She pulled out a few pictures and some newspaper clippings.
    “Look at this one.”
    Seth read it aloud. “Dear Glenbrooke Zorro, Please bring me $447 so I can have my terrible leaking kitchen sink fixed. It keeps me awake at night.”
    He looked up. “Did you give her the $447?”
    “No, I didn’t do anything. I found out later that a guy from our church went over and fixed it for her for free.”
    “Cool,” Seth said with a smile. “What’s this one?” He read another newspaper clipping. “Dear Glenbrooke Zorro, I am a fifty-two-year-old gentleman through and through. I’m hoping you can send me a new wife.” Seth burst out laughing.
    Leah pointed to the clipping. “Read the rest of it.”
    “She must be a nonsmoker who likes to cook and do crossword puzzles. My preferences on height are over 5′6″; weight, under 130 pounds; brown hair and green eyes. No visible scars and no pets. Please have her contact me at the P.O. box number listed below. With appreciation, Mr. X.”
    Seth shook his head. “Mr. X. Now there’s a real clever guy for you. Did he get his ideal wife?”
    “Who knows!” Leah said. “I had nothing to do with it. I’m not Santa Claus. Or the Tooth Fairy. I’m not even Zorro! Wasn’t Zorro a sword fighter? What does that have to do with giving?”
    “What happened with all these letters?” Seth asked.
    “I guess when none of their expectations from the Glenbrooke Zorro were fulfilled, they gave up. The letters to the editor dropped off after about two weeks.”
    “But you went back to giving.”
    “Eventually.”
    “May I make an observation here?” Seth asked.
    Leah laughed. “As opposed to keeping your opinion to yourself as you’ve been doing the rest of this evening?”
    Seth gave an open-armed shrug. “What can I say? I tend to be opinionated.”
    “Oh, really?”
    “And it’s my opinion that you have the gift of giving. Or maybe the gift of service. It’s definitely a spiritual gift when you feel compelled to continue even though it isn’t as easy or as uncomplicated as when you started.”
    Leah asked Seth what his spiritual gift was and that prompted a discussion on their spiritual journeys for the next hour. Leah found that she and Seth had similar backgrounds. Both of them were raised going to church and made decisions to ask Jesus into their hearts when they were in grade school. Seth described himself as being in a growing season in his relationship with the Lord. He paused, looking at Leah gently, as if waiting for her to express her view of her current walk with Christ.
    “For me, everything with God has been the same for a long time,” Leah said. “He’s there, I’m here. I don’t ask much of him. He doesn’t seem to be asking too much of me. I think everything is okay.” She didn’t elaborate. She didn’t need to. Seth was, in every way, right there with her.
    “I’ll tell you something,” Seth said. “We all go through differentseasons in relationships. Including our relationship with God. Things are rarely what we imagine them to be; our understanding is too limited.”
    Leah nodded.
    “I say that because you definitely weren’t what I imagined.”
    Leah waited for an explanation.
    “When I was at my