By Rev. Cindy McCalmont, Chaplain

I was helping Jo–the Activity Director at Walker Place Retirement Community–set the table for our church’s Spring Luncheon when she looked at me and said, “It would be so good for Gregor Pinney to come to the lunch today, but he’s been taken to Lakehouse, next door.” Jo paused as if weighing her words carefully. “I’m not sure if the Nurse Supervisor there would allow him…” and her words trailed off. 

To be clear, Jo bears no responsibility for what happened next. I do. I organized a covert operation to spring Gregor from Lakehouse.

The two people who went to get Gregor and wheel him back will remain nameless. But you know them. You definitely know them. And it was with a delighted bounce in their steps that they went over.

I tell you this story because I want to highlight the fun—and the daring love—that was part of our first-ever Spring Luncheon at Walker Place. So often, we report on events like this with the bare facts: 14 people attended; the lunch included chicken salad sandwiches, broccoli cheddar soup, and strawberry pie; each attendee received a May basket put together by the children of the church. All of these things were good–fantastic even!

But what I want you to feel is the spirit of the event: when Evelyn Ahlberg read a beautiful poem that she’d written about Spring; when Virginia Fuhrken and Khin Khin Jensen’s daughter Maythee remembered swimming at Koinonia; when Jane Bergstrom said, “There are a lot of things I can’t do anymore, but I still can call people from the church and check on them.” 

At Walker Place, there are people with a deep love for Hennepin Avenue UMC and who are vibrantly connected, even if they can’t always be in our midst. 

Which brings me back to Gregor. I’m sorry to say that the covert operation failed. Gregor wasn’t well enough to join us that day. The other person who wasn’t able to be with us was Grace Harkness. For a while, I was wandering the halls trying to locate her. “I’m looking for Grace,” I said to a woman I’d never met.

“Aren’t we all,” she said and laughed.

Transition After Winter
Poem by Evelyn Ahlberg

Spare me Spring
Somehow I can’t seem to feel awakened by you as in the past
You’ve crept up on me while I was asleep
Even so, you expect that I should greet you with open arms
This time you’ll have to wait while I poke around
I’m just too bogged down
I have to work at things too much
I don’t want to work at you, Spring

Oh! Oh there… there is a robin! …no, two!
Now their song vibrates my drum
And is that a hint of green over there in the park?
Only yesterday it seems, dirty snow and deadness lay about
Would that I could let go of the frozen and dead places in myself as quickly
And are my eyes tricking me, or are buds growing fat, filling with life?
I must go see… I will go see
Ah Spring, I do love you, I do love you, Spring!