A Man Named Mr. Edward (A Short Story)

On this blog I've pretty much stuck to posting the same kind of thing: Things that God's been teaching me. While I'm still going to do that then today I'm posting something a little different. A few days ago I wrote this short story and I wanted to share it with y'all.
Without further ado...

       The boy peeked out of the window.

      “Let me see!” His eight year old sister exclaimed, scrambling up on the couch to see out to window. “Is he still there?”

      The boy nodded at his twin before looking back out the window. The two had conducted a survey. There was an old man who lived across the street and every day, without fail, he sat on his front porch in a rickety white rocking chair. He didn’t do anything but drink lemonade – except in the winter he sat out there with a steaming mug of coffee. The man was a mystery to the twins because he just looked around. But there wasn’t anything on their street to see except for a handful of houses.

      The man puzzled them.

. . .


The elderly man with bushy white eyebrows was fully aware of the brother and sister across the street. He’d seen them watching him on many occasions. They’d hidden in the big tree in their yard, looked from their window, spied with binoculars, and peeked over from behind their backyard.
He took another sip from his mason jar filled with lemonade, amused by the two. Today they were perched in the tree in their front yard, no doubt thinking they were well hidden.

The children amused him.

. . .

“Oh no!” The boy said, watching as their ball accidentally rolled into the man’s yard.

“Well we have to go and get it. By we I mean you.” His loving sister pushed him in the direction of the man’s house.

“I’m only going if you go with me.” The boy announced.

“Fine.” Taking her brother’s hand into her own she looked both ways before crossing the street. The boy retrieved the ball and the twins were about to leave when the old man spoke.
“Hey you two, want some lemonade?”

The siblings had been told by their parents to never take candy from strangers but this was different. One, this was lemonade; two, this man – though they’d never spoken to him face to face – didn’t seem like a stranger.  So they walked up the stairs onto his white front porch.

The man with white eyebrows and a thick white mustache reminded the two of their grandpa, before he passed away a year ago. Up close now, they could see the twinkle in his eye and his kind smile.

“Now, you two can have a seat while I go inside to get two more cups of lemonade.” The man instructed before heading inside.

The brother and sister did as they were told, sitting down on the two other rocking chairs. The porch had a cover over it, shading them from the summer sun. There were three white rocking chairs total, and a little table between two of them. The porch’s white paint was peeling, but it only added more character to it.

The man returned, as promised, with two mason jars full of ice cold lemonade. He handed them each a glass before sitting back in his rocking chair.

“Thank you, Mister.” The boy chimed in.

“Yes, thank you!” His sister echoed.

The man smiled in response, picking up his own mason jar of lemonade. “And what are your names?”

“I’m Tom.” The boy introduced before pointing to his twin. “That’s Alice.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Tom and Alice. My name is Edward.”

“I like that name!” Alice exclaimed with all the energy of an eight year old. “Hi Mr. Edward!”

“And hello to you, Alice.”

“May I ask you a question?” Alice inquired.

“Of course you may!”

“Why do you sit out here all the time doing nothing?” Alice asked thoughtfully.

Mr. Edward’s lip twitched but he held back the smile, seeing how serious she was. “Well I am doing something.” He answered. “I watch, observe, and think. Most of all I pray.”

“Pray?” Tom questioned.

“Yes.” Mr. Edward nodded. “I pray. I pray to God through His Son Jesus.”

“What do you pray about?” Alice asked, her mind brimming with new questions for this interesting man.

“I pray about a lot of things. I pray for the church, for America, for my brothers and sisters in Christ, and I pray for the world.” Mr. Edward paused before adding. “I even pray for the two of you.”

The siblings exchanged glances before looking anxiously back at the man.“Really?!?” Tom exclaimed, his mind blown by the fact that this man, practically a stranger, prayed for him.

“Yes indeed.” Mr. Edward replied.

That day a friendship was born, as was a tradition.  Once a week, every Sunday evening, the three would sit on his front porch. Sometimes they would sit in silence, each content to their own thoughts, sometimes the siblings would chatter on about the latest thing they did, sometimes Mr. Edward would teach them about God, and other times they would pray together.

It was a lovely thing while it lasted. But as the years went on eventually the siblings went off to college.


. . .

After the two graduated college they came home. But they discovered that their loving neighbor, Mr. Edward, had passed away two weeks before. But he left them something – a box.

“Well go ahead and open it.” Alice instructed her brother.

“Alright, alright.” He said, opening the box. Inside sat three mason jars with a  letter addressed to them at top.

Alice opened the letter and read it out loud.

Dear Tom and Alice,
Words cannot express how deeply I’ve cherished the times we’d had together. I’ve come to think of you two as my own grandchildren. I’m getting up in years and I can’t be sure which day will be my last. But I hope the two of you can put these mason jars to use. I’ve watched you both grow into godly young adults and I couldn’t be prouder.
Your loving neighbor and friend,
Mr. Edward

By the end of the letter Alice was in tears, recalling fondly those precious memories.

The two would, indeed, always cherish those memories they made with the old man across the street.

. . .

Years later when Tom was married and had a son and daughter of his own he brought them to the front porch. The trio sat down, each with a mason jar filled with lemonade in hand. It was a lovely Sunday evening.

“Aren't Aunt Alice and Uncle Peter coming next week?” His son asked.

“Yes, they are.” Tom answered, looking forward to his sister’s and brother-in-law’s visit.

“Daddy? Can you tell us a story?” His seven year old daughter asked.

Tom smiled. “Let me tell you a story about a  man named Edward…”

THE END