The day after the potluck supper at the St. Paul UCC in Hermann, Jack and Pat Wendleton brought us back to where we left off on the Katy, treating us to breakfast at a trailside restaurant. We hiked back to the McKittrick station, where the Wendletons invited us into their home for a delicious home cooked meal. Pat had gone on some trail journeys, such as the Camino de Santiago Trail, with her husband Jack providing support. No doubt our kindred interests played a role in their sustained kindness to us.
Pastor Jeanne Lischner of the Immanuel UCC in Holstein hosted us next. While we were there she took out maps to determine the UCC churches near our route in the upcoming states. She also came out to hike with us when we left, bringing along her dog.
Pastor Jeanne shared the details of her church’s unique community meals program. Though open to all, they provided luncheon meals specifically for a senior center, providing transportation to the meals and back. They charged $3 for the meals, an affordable cost which still would be defeating for a soup kitchen, but not for a community meals program intended to increase social interaction for a demographic that is often neglected.
After Pastor Jeanne came the hosts with whom we would spend Christmas. From our connection with Jeff Whitman, conference minister for the UCC in Missouri, we came in contact with Senior Pastor Paul Koch of the St. Peter UCC in Washington, MO. He in turn connected us with his young associate pastor Leah Atkinson Bilinski. Her and husband Jamie took us in for the two days that spanned Christmas Eve and Christmas.
Fortunate timing once again allowed us to participate in a community meals gathering called Harvest Table, held on Saturday evenings including Christmas Eve. While at Harvest Table I interviewed the founder, Brigid Reid. She led five other women through a long process of discernment to discover how they should act on their faith. They decided on a community meals program but faced an obstacle; their own Catholic parish did not have the space. That resulted in a partnership with the UCC and the use of their space. In contrast to Grand Pass, where community meals rotated to different locations, different faith communities took turns hosting Harvest Table at St. Peter’s.
After the meal, Leah brought us to the church foyer where several Christmas trees stood, with stores of food piled like presents under them. People and groups put up the trees as a competition, with parishioners putting food donations under the tree they like best. This novel idea was one of the means by which they stocked their sizable food pantry.
We were asked to light the Advent Wreath candle at the Christmas Eve service, where I also sang in the choir. One more time a choir director suggested I could stay there if I’d like. I do not want to convey the impression that I have a voice like Josh Groban. My coveted ability is being able to sight read choral music, a surprisingly rare trait among male choir members. That allows me to become an anchor for choristers who do have voices like Josh Groban.
We gathered at the home of Elaine Menke and Kim Colter for Christmas dinner the next day. The Colter family, including daughters Nora and Hannah, are involved in a locally organized program for mission work in Honduras. They hosted their extended family along with Leah, Jamie and three strangers from Connecticut for a bountiful meal and an atmosphere of holiday chatter and cheer.
After dinner, Leah and Jamie joined us to hike a four mile stretch along the Katy Trail as sunset approached. That was followed by the opening of presents. To our surprise, Ky collaborated with our previous host Jeanne to thoughtfully make neck warmers for Cindy and me. We also spoke to our three kids over the phone at day’s end.
I was apprehensive about spending our first and only Christmas away from home, but I need not have been. Both our hosts and the congregation as a whole took us in as one of their own. We learned yet another novel community meals approach, as well as other innovative initiatives of kindness. With all the trail angels we met on Fourth of July weekend, our gracious hosts on Labor Day and Halloween, Thanksgiving on the farm and now a Christmas of kindness and belonging, holidays were the highlights of our journey.
Our next stop provided me an opportunity to give back, in terms of sharing creative community building ideas. We landed at a Comfort Suites, compliments of a parishioner at St. John UCC, where I gave a presentation that evening. We first appeared to the clerk at the desk to be homeless people that the church was putting up in response to the wintry storm coming that night. When I told her our real purpose her demeanor changed dramatically. Most people probably know conceptually that people perceived to be homeless are treated differently; not many affluent people actually experience what that is like.
Pastor Ric Zuch became our host for the St. John UCC presentation, but was not the only pastor there. Despite a wintry storm the day after Christmas the attendance included three other pastors who were “higher ups” within the UCC regional hierarchy. As I faced these learned theologians scattered in the audience for my talk on kindness I felt similar to when I took the oral exams for my dissertation, also similar to when I presented to the country’s most vibrant Lions Club in Grand Junction, a feeling like I may be doing the talking but I am the student.
During the presentation one theologian brought up a penetrating question, pertinent not just for the presentation but for life in general. Referencing the two great commandments and asked whether I thought loving God was the ticket for loving others, or whether loving others was the ticket for loving God. I suspected the “right” answer for that audience was that loving God was needed for loving others but, well, I cannot tell a lie.
I bore witness from my various journeys that kindness to strangers and loving others were universal traits, not constrained by which God, if any, somebody worshipped. To my relief, I apparently “passed my exam” with that answer, when the theologian responded with the passage in 1 John that asks how can we expect to love the intangible God if we are not able to love the tangible presence of others. Make no mistake, my belief in humanity and our altruistic nature is fueled primarily by science, particularly the fields of ecology, ethnography and biochemistry, but now I added 1 John to my explanatory system as well.
Even more gratifying was the feedback from Pastor Ric that they would be making adjustments to their community meals offerings based on my testimony. Though I included fine ideas gained recently from Kansas and Missouri, the most influential remained the approach in Leadville, Colorado to “confuse who is giving and who is receiving.” After a Christmas of receiving kindness and inspiration, I felt like I now gave back.
I took a photo of Cindy sandwiched in between two of the theologians. Looking back on that photo, I realize the significance of Cindy’s clearly enthusiastic smile among strangers. Indeed, she was less intimidated by socializing with these esteemed attendees than I was speaking to them. That was a sign of progress, a sign of health.
Certainly the overall weather did not generate Cindy’s light mood. The Katy Trail brought us gloomy skies for the most part, accompanied by the shortest days of the year. That also meant that every day for us would get longer now. Considering our previous longest journey ended on December 21, the day this Christmas week began, every new day, week and month up until May would be one which never found us still on a long distance hike before.
Most importantly for Cindy’s smiles, we were steadily hiking again, no five day layover like in Kansas City, not even a complete rest day for Christmas. We engaged in what fed our souls, and apparently Cindy’s brain health. For even in gloomy weather we noticed the increasing height and grandeur of the limestone cliffs as we continued east along the Katy Trail, as well as the increasing width and grandeur of the Missouri River that occasionally popped into view. We also noticed the little things like how gray skies had little effect on the chatty birds around us. Cardinals in particular visually cut through the gray with their vibrant Christmas red.
Even more appropriate to the season were trailside vignettes of red berries and green leaves. The few days of clear mornings added sparkling landscapes, like the silvery tinsel on a Christmas tree. Every day on the trail delivers a season of joy to those accustomed to look, or hear, or feel the natural good will around them.
