In the Midwest for a medical procedure, she attended a small Welsh Congregational Church for several months. There were about fifty members, but the number attending each week was much smaller.
She brought altar flowers for Easter Sunday. Others did as well, tulips and lilies and wildflowers. But her arrangement was from a florist and quite extravagant.
At the end of the service, one of the parishioners picked up the large and lovely display and commenced to walk away with it.
Excuse me, she said. I thought the flowers would remain on the altar for the glory of God. Allelujah.
He said, We have a lot of family coming over for dinner, and I want this as a centerpiece for the table.
But they’re my gift to the church, she said. And if they’re not going to remain here, I’ll take them home.
She was bluffing a bit, for she was staying in a hotel while undergoing her procedures.
The man reluctantly handed over the lilies.
I hope you continue to enjoy the coffee at our hospitality hour, he said.
She thought this a most curious thing to say. After she left Iowa, she came across an article in the newspaper about a church poisoning where a parishioner had poured liquid from an old spray can on his potato farm into the percolating coffee. One person died and another suffered damage to the nerves in her feet. The poisoner was quoted as telling his lawyer that he felt someone had made bad coffee for him once, though he could not prove it and he had a tummy ache and was going to get back at them.
He just obviously overreacted, the lawyer said.
But this incident happened years before in the state of Ohio, and the church was Lutheran.