be located in Encinitas. At the turn of the last century, it was divided into pieces and brought to Fairbrook by horse and wagon.”
“No kidding?” Craig studied both the structure and the interior of the sanctuary a little closer, trying to get a feel for the history.
“Come with me,” George said. “I’ll show you the fellowship hall.”
Craig followed him to a large room, where about fifteen to twenty women had gathered to sew.
“They’re stitching quilts together,” George said from the doorway. “When they’re finished, we’ll raffle them off at the community bazaar in July. The proceeds will help fund the soup kitchen.”
After introducing Craig to the ladies, each of whom smiled warmly, George motioned for him to head out the door first. Then he followed him outside.
“We also offer the fellowship hall for community events,” George said. “In fact, the Boy Scouts will be meeting here this afternoon. And there’s an A.A. meeting tonight.”
Craig was glad to know that the church reached out to others who weren’t members of the congregation.
“Come on,” George said, “let me show you the grounds.”
Once outside, Craig scanned the property, noting the numerous trees that provided shade and a retreat-like setting.
George pointed across the street. “That’s Mulberry Park. Each December we host a community event called Christmas Under the Stars. It’s always a huge hit. We provide hot cocoa, tea, coffee, and homemade cookies and other goodies. We sing carols, and there’s a reading of the Christmas story. Next year, we plan to add a live nativity scene.”
“How many people attend?” Craig asked.
“Hundreds. And we seem to get more and more each year.”
“Sounds fun.”
“It is. And during vacation Bible school in the summer, we take the kids over to the playground and have outdoor activities on the lawn. There’s also a men’s softball league, which reminds me. Are you interested in playing?”
“We’ll see.” Craig offered a smile, but the fact was, he’d rather play another kind of game—fast ball, hard hitting, competitive. College level or beyond …
“Last but not least,” George said, “I’ll take you to the soup kitchen, which is another thing you’ll be in charge of. I’d like to introduce you to the Randolphs.”
Craig followed George to a modular building that had been placed at the edge of the parking lot.
“The kitchen has an advisory board,” George said, “which includes Dawn and Joe Randolph, the couple who are in charge of the day-to-day operations. Dawn and Joe are a real blessing. I don’t know what we’d do without them.”
George opened the door, then waited for Craig to step into the room, where rectangular tables stretched end to end. Only a few of the chairs were occupied.
“We serve meals between eleven and two,” George said, “so people will be coming and going until then.”
A tall man in his late forties, who’d just walked out of the back room, grinned when he spotted George, and strode toward them. He wore a navy blue T-shirt with white block letters that said Fairbrook Fire Department.
“Joe,” George said. “Let me introduce you to Craig Houston. He’s the new associate minister and will be working with you and Dawn.”
When the big man reached out, Craig shook his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Joe.”
“Likewise. My wife and I are looking forward to working with you. I hope you’ll be an active part of the soup kitchen.”
“I’m sure I will be,” Craig said.
“Joe is a paramedic with the fire department,” George added, “and whenever he’s off duty, he helps out. But Dawn is here every day.”
“Speaking of Dawn,” Joe said, “she’s been eager to meet you. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll let her know you’re here.”
“Before you do,” George said, “how are things going?”
Joe crossed his arms and scanned the room. “It’s business as usual. The big rush usually comes around
“No kidding?” Craig studied both the structure and the interior of the sanctuary a little closer, trying to get a feel for the history.
“Come with me,” George said. “I’ll show you the fellowship hall.”
Craig followed him to a large room, where about fifteen to twenty women had gathered to sew.
“They’re stitching quilts together,” George said from the doorway. “When they’re finished, we’ll raffle them off at the community bazaar in July. The proceeds will help fund the soup kitchen.”
After introducing Craig to the ladies, each of whom smiled warmly, George motioned for him to head out the door first. Then he followed him outside.
“We also offer the fellowship hall for community events,” George said. “In fact, the Boy Scouts will be meeting here this afternoon. And there’s an A.A. meeting tonight.”
Craig was glad to know that the church reached out to others who weren’t members of the congregation.
“Come on,” George said, “let me show you the grounds.”
Once outside, Craig scanned the property, noting the numerous trees that provided shade and a retreat-like setting.
George pointed across the street. “That’s Mulberry Park. Each December we host a community event called Christmas Under the Stars. It’s always a huge hit. We provide hot cocoa, tea, coffee, and homemade cookies and other goodies. We sing carols, and there’s a reading of the Christmas story. Next year, we plan to add a live nativity scene.”
“How many people attend?” Craig asked.
“Hundreds. And we seem to get more and more each year.”
“Sounds fun.”
“It is. And during vacation Bible school in the summer, we take the kids over to the playground and have outdoor activities on the lawn. There’s also a men’s softball league, which reminds me. Are you interested in playing?”
“We’ll see.” Craig offered a smile, but the fact was, he’d rather play another kind of game—fast ball, hard hitting, competitive. College level or beyond …
“Last but not least,” George said, “I’ll take you to the soup kitchen, which is another thing you’ll be in charge of. I’d like to introduce you to the Randolphs.”
Craig followed George to a modular building that had been placed at the edge of the parking lot.
“The kitchen has an advisory board,” George said, “which includes Dawn and Joe Randolph, the couple who are in charge of the day-to-day operations. Dawn and Joe are a real blessing. I don’t know what we’d do without them.”
George opened the door, then waited for Craig to step into the room, where rectangular tables stretched end to end. Only a few of the chairs were occupied.
“We serve meals between eleven and two,” George said, “so people will be coming and going until then.”
A tall man in his late forties, who’d just walked out of the back room, grinned when he spotted George, and strode toward them. He wore a navy blue T-shirt with white block letters that said Fairbrook Fire Department.
“Joe,” George said. “Let me introduce you to Craig Houston. He’s the new associate minister and will be working with you and Dawn.”
When the big man reached out, Craig shook his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Joe.”
“Likewise. My wife and I are looking forward to working with you. I hope you’ll be an active part of the soup kitchen.”
“I’m sure I will be,” Craig said.
“Joe is a paramedic with the fire department,” George added, “and whenever he’s off duty, he helps out. But Dawn is here every day.”
“Speaking of Dawn,” Joe said, “she’s been eager to meet you. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll let her know you’re here.”
“Before you do,” George said, “how are things going?”
Joe crossed his arms and scanned the room. “It’s business as usual. The big rush usually comes around
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