Angels of Humility: A Novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

scrutiny it received today.
    Wilma pulled the handle that sent her recliner sprawling. “Getting a cell phone was the best thing I ever did,” she said to Oreo, the big black and white cat grooming himself on the area rug. She arranged her ample frame, comfortably fitted in a pink bathrobe and matching slippers, in the recliner, and with her left hand, she pushed her first auto dial button. With her right hand she picked up a cup of coffee from the end table.
    Her ten pre-programmed numbers were like a prayer chain in reverse, a destructive gossip network that spread rumors at the speed of light. Itresembled a multilevel marketing pyramid of friends phoning friends. It was so fast and efficient that if it were Amway® Wilma would have been a billionaire by now.
    Bernice set down her watering can beside her African violets displayed on her kitchen windowsill and grabbed the phone. “Hello.”
    “Hi Bernice. It’s Wilma. What’d you think of the new interim today?” Before Bernice could answer, a thought popped in her head,
The mouths of fools are their ruin; their lips get them into trouble. 2
    Bernice was so surprised by this thought that she didn’t respond.
Is that a verse from Proverbs?
she wondered. After a few seconds, Wilma broke the silence.
    “Well, frankly Bernice, I’ve heard better sermons. And what’s with all that Greek mumbo jumbo?”
    “Yes, the Greek, well that was, um, interesting.”
    “Interesting? I just thought that it was a big front he put up to try to impress us. He thinks we’re all a bunch of small-town hicks and don’t know anything.”
    The term “small-town hicks” was enough to play on Bernice’s insecurities and suck her into the gossip session.
    “I was pulling for him, Wilma, but I just don’t think he’s gonna make it. He’s got awfully big shoes to fill, awfully big shoes to fill. Pastor Hall’s retirement is just so hard to accept.”
    Twenty minutes later, Wilma sipped her coffee and punched speed-dial button number two as the spirits of Slander and Faultfinding perched on her shoulder. Across town, Carol hit the television remote’s mute button, silencing the replay of her favorite soap opera. “Hello.”
    “Hi, Carol, it’s Wilma. What’d you think of Pastor Paul today?”
    Ardare, Wilma’s guardian angel, stood behind the plush gray recliner—eight feet tall and radiating with celestial light.
    As he listened, his countenance disintegrated. “Oh, I can feel Father’s heart breaking even now.” Tears rolled down his cheeks. “Wilma, you have no idea. If you only knew how grievous this is to Father, you would never spread your poison.”
    As Wilma hit the third number, a thought interrupted her,
As surely as a wind from the north brings rain, so a gossiping tongue causes anger! 3
She shifted her weight uncomfortably in the recliner.
    Joan put down her knitting and picked up the phone, “Hello.”
    Silence.
    “Hello, hello, is anybody there?”
    Wilma was distracted from Ardare’s thoughts by Joan. “Hello, Joan, it’s Wilma. How are you?”
    “I’m fine Wilma. What’d you think of Pastor Paul today?”
    Wilma haltingly began, “Um, well, I think, I think…”
    “He’s got awfully big shoes to fill,” whispered Gossip.
    “I think He’s got awfully big shoes to fill,” repeated Wilma, “and I don’t know who he was trying to impress with all his high fallutin’ Greek words….”
    Ardare continued bringing conviction to Wilma, and each time she made an effort to resist. Finally, she threw off his conviction totally for the pleasure of gossiping with her friends. By the time Wilma had hit auto dial number ten, she had no memory of the verse from Ardare.
    Number ten was Sarah Edwards; she was not a close friend, not even really a friend, after all, that’s why she’s number ten, but she was a new Sunday school member. Wilma was on a roll; the recliner felt comfy, and the phone had been charging all night.
    The phone rang at Sarah’s, but