Mrs. Miracle 01 - Mrs. Miracle(9)
A warmth seeped into his heart. For the first time in a very long while, he had hope for the future.
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Country Pot Pie
1 stewing chicken—make it easy and buy canned chicken; they’ll never know the difference
1/3 cup butter
1/8 cup flour (more if necessary)
1 teaspoon salt
? teaspoon pepper
? teaspoon thyme
? teaspoon rosemary
2 cups chicken broth
1 piecrust—the kind you buy in the refrigerator section of the local grocery works great
1 potato, cubed and boiled until tender
2 carrots, sliced and boiled until tender
1 cup light cream (evaporated milk works in a pinch)
1 small can onions
1 small can peas
Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Simmer chicken in water to cover for 45 minutes, or until tender. Remove meat from bones and reserve stock. Melt butter in saucepan and stir in flour, salt, pepper, thyme, and rosemary to make gravy. Gradually add broth and cream and cook over medium heat, stirring frequently until thickened and bubbly. Add the cubed chicken and vegetables to the gravy. Prepare the pie crust. Line a 13x9x2-inch pan or 2-quart casserole dish with 2/3 of the pie crust. Put the filling in the dough-lined pan, top with remaining crust and bake 15 minutes, or until crust is golden and the filling is bubbling.
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Chapter 4
God wants spiritual fruit, not religious nuts.
—Mrs. Miracle
Harriett Foster prayed with one eye open as she studied the older, retired women in the Tuesday morning Martha and Mary Circle. She zeroed her prayer request toward Ruth Darling. Harriett had seen the way the sixty-year-old had been eyeing the new man in church. A married woman, mind you. Why, it was nothing short of scandalous. It was difficult enough for a widow like herself to find a new husband without having to compete with a married woman.
“Dear Lord,” Harriett said loudly, making sure her voice carried, “I’m selling my sewing machine. My Singer, Lord, with five separate attachments. Why, Lord, a person could embroider names on the thickest of towels with this machine. Hemming skirts at the proper length, of course, would be no problem, nor would it be difficult to attach buttons. Those of us suffering arthritis can appreciate a sewing machine with all those built-in extras.” She paused and surveyed the group once more. “This modern marvel was reconditioned only six months ago. I’m a reasonable woman, Lord, and you and I both know that my Singer, although ten years old, is well worth the hundred-dollar asking price. You’ve placed that figure upon my heart, and I don’t feel I can let it go for a penny less. You know that I’d gladly tithe my ten percent of that sales price, too.
“Now, I feel, Lord, that there’s someone in this very group of women who could use this machine. Theirs may be out of date, or in disrepair, whatever the reason, they need this machine. I ask, Father, that you lay it upon that person’s mind to buy my beautiful, looks-almost-new, Singer sewing machine.” She breathed in deeply and peeked at Ruth Darling to see if the group’s leader revealed any interest. To her disappointment, she saw nothing. Discouraged, Harriett murmured, “Amen.”
A low murmur of “Amens” followed.
Slowly the women opened their eyes and raised their heads.
“We’ll meet again next week, same time, same place,” Ruth Darling announced.
Harriett noticed a smile wobbling at the edges of Ruth’s mouth and wondered what it was that the group’s leader found amusing.
Ruth zipped up the pouch around her Bible and placed it inside her bag along with the study guide for the Book of Philippians.
“I don’t suppose you’d be interested in buying my Singer, would you?” Harriett asked, cornering Ruth. Sometimes a hint just wasn’t strong enough. If ever a woman needed something to occupy her time, it was Ruth. Naturally it’d be considered unkind to mention that she’d noticed Ruth’s roving eye, although Harriett was certain she wasn’t the only member of the Martha and Mary Circle to recognize what was happening. Personally Harriett wondered if Fred Darling had wind of it. Fred wasn’t the kind of man who would tolerate any hanky-panky from his wife.
Ruth glanced up. “I have a sewing machine.”
“New?” Harriett pressed.
“Fairly new.”
“I thought you said yours was ten years old?”
This came from Barbara Newton, and Harriett didn’t appreciate it. “It is, but as I said earlier, it’s been reconditioned.”
“My daughter might be interested.”
Harriett spun around. “Really?”
The door opened and the church secretary, Joanne Lawton, burst into the room. “Oh, good, you haven’t left yet. Ladies,” she said, clearly distressed, “I just got off the phone with Milly Waters. Joe’s been transferred…. It’s all rather sudden, and they’re leaving within the next two weeks.”
“Milly and Joe are moving?”
“Oh, dear, we’re going to miss them.”
A chorus of voices echoed, mixed with excitement and regrets. Joe and Milly were church favorites. Milly’s sunny disposition made her a popular Sunday school teacher, and the children loved her. Joe had been the Sunday school superintendent for several years running. They would both be sorely missed.