OLD MRS. SMITH BY GERARD O’NEIL
At precisely
8:48 a.m. each Sunday morning a distant cloud of dust would appear over the
horizon heralding the imminent arrival of Father McDonald in his old VW Beetle.
The noise of the Beetles air cooled engine drowning out the sounds of the
normally tranquil surroundings was the signal for the faithful to enter "Our Lady of the Forests" and take possession of the pews their forebears had long ago fought over
and claimed as their own generations before. (Low and behold anyone who so much
as set foot in a pew that did not belong to their family)!
A foam
cushion would have served Philip well. Each
new addition to the O’Malley family had meant that with time he had been pushed
further and further along the family pew until he now found himself at the very
far end. Exactly where he was expected to kneel was a nail which had not
been fully hit home. Avoiding it was near impossible and so he reasoned that in
the absence of a hammer, a foam cushion would have been the next best thing.
One day, when
Father McDonald’s sermon had been a little more boring than usual, Philip decided
to experiment to see if Jesus was really so brave after all. Concentrating on
the large crucifix behind the alter Philip knelt on the exposed nail head. He
slowly applied more and more weight to see how long he could bear the pain, but
soon discovered he could only handle it for only a few seconds. He quickly concluded
that Jesus must have been some brave dude. “Imagine he supported four nails at
the same time.”
One day the news spread that Old Mrs. Smith was “at deaths door” and
that prayers were being asked for her. On hearing the news Philip offered his
own prayer to God. It went something like this:
“Dear God.
Sorry to disturb you from your busy schedule but people are saying you will be
calling Old Mrs. Smith to you soon. Good days would be a Sunday, Monday or
Tuesday. This would mean that her funeral would fall on a school day hence us
children would not need to go to school. Thank you!”
Philip was very
happy when God appeared to have answered his prayer as he called Old Mrs. Smith
from this earth on a Tuesday. Her funeral was consequently on the following
Friday.
On the Friday
the hearse carrying Old Mrs. Smith’s body arrived for the funeral just after 3
p.m. Philip watched with interest as the pallbearers pulled the coffin from the
back of the car and then maneuvered it into the stuffy church. The mourners
filed in silently behind and went to their respective pews. Everyone that was, except
Old Mrs. Smith of course!
When all was
quiet, the undertaker removed the lid of the coffin. Unfortunately from the
angel Philip was sitting he could only see Old Mrs. Smith’s nose which appeared
to be stuffed with cotton wool. He wondered if the wool was causing her nose to
itch.
The
undertaker then came and occupied the place in the pew in front that had
formally belonged to Old Mrs. Smith. For a moment Philip thought this was
because he had his eyes on her foam cushion, but he changed his mind when the
undertaker kicked the cushion under the seat.
As the Priest
came walking down the aisle to begin the service, the undertaker whispered
something to him. Philip was only able to catch the words; “hot, smell and
quick”. Whatever the undertaker had said must have got the priests attention as
it was one of the fastest mass’ Philip could remember!
At the end of
the service everyone had to file past Old Mrs. Smith’s coffin. Philip was
excited with the prospect as it was going to be the first time he had ever seen
a “real live” dead body. When his turn came however he got the shock of his
life! For a moment he thought they had put the wrong person in the coffin. The
lady inside was much younger than the Old Mrs. Smith he knew. And that wasn’t
all! She was wearing makeup and smiling. Old Mrs. Smith never wore make up nor
smiled!
Just before
being shoved forward by his younger brother, Philip recognized the fur coat Old
Mrs. Smith wore. He remembered she had once told his mother that she wanted to
be buried in her favorite, (everyone knew only) fur coat. The fur coat was
famous in the community. Old Mrs. Smith had been married in it one winter’s day
sixty years previously and there only needed to be the slightest hint of a
chill in the air for her to appear in the village wearing it like some famous
Hollywood movie star. And now there she was as “happy as a fiddle” lying in her
coffin, the center of attention, wearing her favorite fur coat as if she was
all prepared for an out of season blizzard.
As the last mourner
filed past the coffin, the undertaker rushed up and closed its lid. Philip patiently
waited until he had screwed down the last screw before he turned to his mother and
in a whistler asked;
“Mum. Since
they have forgotten to put Old Mrs. Smith’s foam cushion in with her, do you
think I could have it?”
The look that crossed Philips mothers face
could have killed a magpie at a hundred meters.
Soon Old Mrs.
Smith’s coffin was on the move again. The congregation filed after her as she
was carried outside. There they were met
by the non-Catholics who had come to pay their last respects. One of those
waiting was Old Mrs. Smith’s husband. He was not a Catholic but had faithfully
brought his wife to mass every Sunday for the last sixty years. While she attended
the service he stayed patiently waiting outside the church studying his picks in
the Turf Digest for the coming week’s horse races.
When the funeral
procession eventually arrived at the spot where Old Mrs. Smith was to be laid
to rest, Mr. Robinson the old grave digger was just climbing out of the hole
after making some last minute adjustments. As he reached the top he
joked;
“The next
grave dug will be for me!”
And it was!
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