Chapter 2

In the weeks that followed, Harold Happy frequently reflected on the lessons the angel had taught his family. There seemed to be a new air of genuine contentment in the household. And an air of peace, Harold thought, “Yes, peace that passes understanding.”

The school year was drawing to a close. It was time to think about a summer vacation. That evening at dinner he brought the subject up to the family.

“I put in for my vacation days today at work. It looks like we will have a full two weeks in early August. That will give us time to plan and make reservations. So what’s your pleasure?” Harold asked the group.

“Disney World!” Pretty exclaimed almost before he had finished asking.

“Please, Dad, NOT Disney World again,” griped Strong. “It takes us three days in the car, each way. It’s so cramped and so boring.”

“We could plan sites along the way to stop and see so the travel days could be part of the fun,” Lovely suggested.

“NO! Not the old National Geographic routine, Mom. It’s vacation. We just want to have fun,” Pretty argued.

“What about going to the ocean?” Lovely asked.

“What about we fly somewhere?” Strong added.

“What about we go to Disney World? It’s near the ocean,” Pretty said hopefully.

“What about we fly to Disney World and the ocean?” urged Strong, hoping for one more layer of trip improvement.

Since Strong had upped the ante, Lovely asked, “How about a family cruise?”

“Yeah, Dad! Like one of those Disney World on a ship things,” Strong enthused. Harold was growing more and more discouraged at what he was hearing.

“I thought we had learned some things about seeking happiness these last few weeks. How quickly we forget! I’m not going to make any decision just yet. But I want you to remember that fun and games isn’t the only option when we are considering the investment of fourteen days of all of our lives and of the kind of money you guys are suggesting we spend. Fourteen days times four people is almost two months of man hours.”

The table grew quiet. They knew the discussion was over for the time being. But none of them were particularly confident in their various positions on the matter.

Senior day at school came and went, and so began the round of graduation celebrations leading up to Commencement Day. The conversation at these events generally turned in the direction of where each graduate was going to attend college, and more importantly, what they were going to do with their last bit of youthful freedom during the summer. Various youngsters talked about amusement park days, water park days, sporting events, camp-outs, and trips to visit out-of-state relatives.

Not to be outdone, Lovely boasted, “We might get to go to Disney World.”

“Then we’ll have to start calling you ‘Lucky’ instead of ‘Lovely,’ Lovely’s friend Brianna said smoothly.

“But you’d better not start too soon,” interjected Strong. “Dad hasn’t made his final decision yet. And, who knows, we might even go on a cruise.”

“Wow! We could never do that in a million years,” said Martina. Her dad had finally gotten a new job, but he was only making minimum wage at a grocery store. “I’m going to get a job myself next week so I can help out the family. My sister and my mom are going to try too. But maybe Dad will get a better job before we have to go back to school so we’ll only have to work for the summer.”

Lovely looked at her sweet friend’s obvious satisfaction in helping her family. She remembered the happiness she had felt when she had considered Martina’s situation above her own sense of self-fulfillment. She was sorry she had said anything about Disney World.

Brianna jumped back in. “Well, Daddy is taking our family to Europe. It is my brother’s senior trip, but we all get to go.”
Martina, with a genuine sincerity missing in most of her classmates, said, “That means we’ll have to call you ‘Lucky.’”

Strong clenched his jaw. Brianna always had a way to one-up everyone. But hadn’t that been his goal too? He decided the best thing was to walk away.

Commencement Day was a joyous but formal affair held in the church auditorium. The frivolity that surrounded the senior parties was discouraged on graduation day, as the pastor and principle of the Christian school were earnest about the spiritual challenges awaiting the young adults moving into a new phase of life. This year the speaker was a missionary on furlough from Suriname. He spoke on seeing every moment of time as something to be invested in eternity.

Strong yawned and wished he could check his phone for messages. Unfortunately, he was sitting right next to Mom. Pretty was distracted by thinking about what dress each of her friends was wearing under her graduation gown. Lovely kept looking at her watch. She was supposed to slip out at a particular time to help with the refreshments at the reception that would follow the ceremony. Harold, however, was listening intently. An idea was beginning to form concerning the summer vacation problem.

That night the exhausted family gathered in the living room for devotions and prayer. Harold knew they were not in a frame of mind for anything too challenging, so he just gave them an encouragement to get some sleep and be prepared to listen to the special speaker in church the next day.

“Sure, Dad. Whatever,” Strong said as he turned his attention toward bed

The speaker in church was the same man who had spoken at graduation, only his message to the church congregation was larger in scope. He gave a presentation on his background as the son of missionaries who served on their field until they were called to heaven. He talked about his 30 years of service and the dedication of his own children to helping minister to native tribes in the bush country. He showed pictures that revealed the poverty and squalor in the pagan, third-world area where he had lived and served most of his life.

Near the end of his presentation, the missionary discussed his plan to erect a large radio transmitting tower on a site in the jungle. It would be a horrendous job to transport all the materials by small boat to the site. The brush would have to be cleared. There would be cement work, construction of the tower, electrical work, maintenance and oversight. But it would lead to thousands of people being able to hear the Gospel in their own language for the first time.

Harold’s heart was stirred. He realized that his happiness had been drained by a shallow focus on who had the best plan for fun and games. He began to pray for his family and for his own heart as he sat listening.

“Our plan is to begin moving materials and clearing the site in early August,” the missionary said.

Harold’s ears became sensitized to every word he said after that.

“We will need as many workers as possible. There will be jobs for all. For some of the ladies and girls, there will be cooking, cleaning, childcare, washing, mending. For anyone qualified, there will be undoubted need for first aid and light medical care. We need men with construction background, but we also need others that can swing a machete or carry bags of cement.”

Harold thought, “I’m nothing but a desk jockey, but I can carry stuff.” “I could do those things,” thought Strong, who unexpectedly found himself listening. “Hey, wait! Where did that thought come from?” He suddenly got a little nervous.

Lovely looked from side to side at her husband and her son, and wondered what she was seeing in their intent faces. She got a little nervous too.

Even Pretty stopped smoothing the edges of her fingernail polish with her thumb. The pictures of the half naked bush children and their ill-clad mothers made her think momentarily how vain she was about her own appearance. She, too, sat up a little straighter and paid more attention to the speaker.

At the close of the service, none of them was surprised when Harold sought out the speaker for a personal conversation. But it was still with some trepidation that they sat down to Sunday dinner.

“Strong, what did you think about the missionary’s presentation this morning?” Harold asked.

Strong shrugged a little, displaying his discomfort with what he thought might come next. “It was okay, I guess. I mean, I thought it was good. He was okay. He, um, he made me think a little.”

“Thinking is good,” Harold said, somewhat wryly. “What about you, Pretty?”

“Actually, he made me feel pretty bad. I looked at those people, and they basically have nothing, and they don’t know Jesus either. Some of them seemed pretty happy, and here I am. I have more than enough of everything, and I’m worried if I will have a better vacation than Brianna.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I think you will. I think you will even have a better one than Martina,” Dad said cryptically.

Lovely knew what it was that had been forming in her husband’s mind earlier that morning. She wondered how it was that she could be excited and have her heart sink at the same time.

“I think the Lord would be pleased if we use our vacation time and the money we would have spent on it to go to Suriname and help with the radio tower project.” Harold announced boldly, hoping to allay dissent that might arise.

“I knew you were going to say that, Dad,” said Strong. “I kind of had that feeling myself, but I didn’t want to just put it out there.”

“I knew it too, Harold,” Lovely said quietly. God would have to do a great work to help her through the bugs, spiders, snakes, and… She shivered a little.

“How will we do it, Dad? It is going to take a lot more money than we would have spent, even going to Disney World.”

“I know. But I think I have a plan that will do two things. It will provide what we need to get to Suriname, and I think it will also bring our happiness back. It has been slipping these last couple weeks.”

“Yeah, Dad, I noticed that too,” Lovely said contritely.

The next day Harold and Lovely made a plan. They would all look for items that could be sold at the neighborhood garage sale scheduled for Memorial Day.

“I could make cookies and rolls to sell at the sale too,” Pretty volunteered.

“And, Dad, what would you think if I made a sign or a brochure and offer my services to do yard work, clean-up, or other chores for people? I’ll tell them what I am going to use the money for too.”

“That’s a good idea, Strong. It will also help you get in condition for the kind of hauling and toting we’ll be doing in August. It will help you get used to some of the heat too.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think of that,” Strong said a little less enthusiastically.

Lovely was already thinking of some higher ticket items that she could sell on the internet to help with the cost of their airline tickets. Thankfully, they already had passports. Lovely was already working on what they would need by way of work clothes, gloves, boots, insect repellant yes, especially that. She wondered about what they would be eating. Would that be prone to bugs too?

Harold had already asked the missionary if they needed to bring tools, but he said what they needed would be at the mission house. That way there wouldn’t be complications with customs officers. They would need someone to get them to the airport, and someone to watch the house, and someone to take care of their elderly friend Dotty, and… But he shouldn’t let his thoughts get too far ahead. Harold thanked the Lord every day that his family had bought into the
idea of investing their vacation in others.

Pretty started choosing recipes to bake for the big sale day. She wondered if they did any baking at the mission house. How primitive would it be? Did they cook only over wood fires? What kind of ingredients did they use? Would she think any of it was yummy, or just disgusting? A friend of hers had gone on a mission trip to New Guinea. He had prepared himself by learning to eat roasted grasshoppers. Maybe she didn’t need that much preparation!

As the weekend of the sale arrived, Lovely informed Pretty that Dotty had donated a ten pound bag of flour and a five pound bag of sugar for the baking project.

Pretty thought, “That will help with a lot of sugar cookies.” She got out her equipment and preheated the oven. She became aware suddenly that she was humming to herself. She hummed a few more bars until the words came to her. “Once I was blind, but now I can see. The light of the world is Jesus.” She hadn’t been this happy in her work for awhile.

Before he even had a chance to distribute his flyers, Strong was hired by a neighbor to set up tables for the big sale and to carry his sale items from the garage to the sale location. Strong would have money in his pocket before the sale even opened. The thought made him beam.

“Here you go, Strong. I threw in a little tip since I know what your family’s project is,” said Mr. Cooper.

“Oh, thanks, Mr. Cooper. But I wasn’t expecting that.”

“I know, Strong. I wanted to encourage your mission project.”

“Thanks again, Mr. Cooper. And by the way, call me Steve. It’s my nickname. All my friends use it.”

“Will do, Steve. I’m sure I’ll have other jobs for you the next few weeks.”

Steve looked at the wad of bills Mr. Cooper had thrust into his hand. “Fifty dollars! I can’t believe it!” Every single penny would go toward the trip.

Harold actually had fun cleaning out the garage, the basement, and a couple storage closets in the upstairs hall. He found all kinds of sporting gear he hadn’t used in years to sell. He just hoped it wasn’t too obsolete to fetch some sort of price. He breathed a happy sigh as he shut the door on a much cleaner closet.

At the sale, the delicious aroma of fresh baked cookies and cinnamon buns drew many to the Happy family’s table. One lady bought three dozen cookies for her Sunday School class picnic. She came back near the end of the day.

“Do you have any more of those sugar cookies, young lady?”

“I’m afraid I sold out about half an hour ago, ma’am.”

“That’s too bad. I was hoping to get some more to take to the care center. We go there every Sunday afternoon, and the people in the memory ward with my mom do seem to remember the taste of a good treat!”

“I would be happy to bake some more for you,” volunteered Pretty.

“That would be wonderful. Let me get your name and number and we’ll arrange something. What’s your name, dear?”

“Please call me Polly. All my friends do.”

“Sweet. Thank you, Polly.”

Lovely was happy to sell an unused set of dishes, a set of towels that had been the wrong color, some pieces of costume jewelry that didn’t match any current outfits, and an odd assortment of household items. During the afternoon, an older lady approached the table and spoke in a low voice. Lovely thought she might be a neighbor from the other side of the block.

“I saw on the internet that you were selling a fur coat. You don’t happen to have it here with you, do you?”

Lovely laughed. “No. I didn’t think there would be much demand here.”

“Well, I am really interested. I just live around the corner. I could come over sometime.”

“Absolutely. I’m home most of the time. Pop over and we can have some coffee too.”

“I’d love that. I’m Josey Lightman, by the way. I know your husband’s name is Harold, but what is yours?”

“Call me Lara. All my friends call me that.”

When the last of the tables were folded and stowed away and all the empty boxes and
trash were disposed of, the Happy family sunk deeply in the comfy overstuffed sofa at home.

“Wow! Am I tired!” Steve yawned.

“Me, too. But I’m happy!” Polly bubbled. “I made $113 and I have another special order
to fill on Sunday.”

“Oh, yeah. I almost forgot about the $50 Mr. Cooper gave me for setting up.”

“That was generous,” Harold said in amazement.

“A lot of our friends already know about our mission project and wanted to help out,” said Lara. “We made $230 selling odds and ends, and I think I have a buyer for my fur coat. That will bring another $500.”

“Mr. Cooper wants my outboard motor too. I think we are about $1000 closer to what we need on top of the vacation fund.”

They all sat in happy, reflective silence for a few minutes.

“Well, I for one, intend to go sleep in my bed,” Steve said, pointing in the direction of Polly, who had nodded off on the sofa, as he headed for the stairs.

“Me too,” Harold and Lara said simultaneously with a little laugh.

“Happy once!” Lara said, as she playfully punched Harold’s shoulder.

“Happy twice!” Harold punched back.

A sleepy voice from the direction of the sofa rejoined, “Happy chicken soup with rice!”*

Not the End!

*from “Chicken Soup with Rice” by Maurice Sendak