The Cross And The Pinecone - Part Two

The Cross And The Pinecone - Part Two

By Rod Jones Artist-Writer

This is where we left off on Part One:

Mary, still looking down at the gift and doing her best to hold back tears, looked up at John and said, “Gift or no gift you mean everything to me. I know how much you love me and I know that you must’ve felt something really special when you selected this present for me. I promise I will cherish it forever, including how beautifully you wrapped it. Thank you for being such a caring and loving husband.

Claudine, as she did quite often when it came to Mary and witnessing her innocence and sensitivity, seemed to always have to hold back some tears, she raised her voice, and said,“ Open it, open it so we can see your birthday present. Jeffrey and I are excited for you. We’ve never been much at giving birthday gifts to each other. It makes me feel really good to know that John made sure you got one on your birthday.”

Part 2:

“Mary, do you remember quite some time ago you said to me, why do I see pinecones in religion?”

“Oh yes John, I do remember, and that’s when I started collecting pinecones. I am especially glad you were very supportive and didn’t tease me about how I was always searching for the perfectly shaped pinecone. Quite honestly, I don’t know why hunting and collecting pinecones became so important to me. Maybe it had something to do with that question I asked you about pinecones and religion. Thinking about it now, I’m not even sure why I asked you that question. I do read the Bible quite often as you know, and I don’t remember in any of the psalms or passages, pinecones being mentioned. There seems to be comments about pine trees. You would think, I guess, if there’s pine trees there must be pinecones.”

Claudine and Jeffrey patiently listened to John and Mary’s conversation. “ OK, that’s sweet and interesting about y’all discussing pinecones and religion, but open your gift Mary, Jeffrey and I want to see what John got for you. I have to say he wrapped it up quite handsomely with decorations and all.”

Mary, held John’s gift the way a salver is held, both palms upturned. The gift rested across her hands as though it were being offered rather than received.

John gently placed his hands on Mary’s shoulders and said, “Please open your birthday gift Mary.”

Looking up at John and looking back down at the gift, she smiled and said, “OK, I am both anxious and a little timid. Honestly, I don’t know why, there is something deeply special about this gift. I can feel it through the wrapping. It’s giving off a warming energy, but I don’t know how that could be.”

John had taken his hands away from Mary’s shoulders, took a nervous breath, and said, “ When I found this gift for you Mary, I was completely surprised, it was almost as if it reached out to me. The shopkeeper even told me that he did not know they had this in the store. He admitted that he had never seen anything like it before, and that he didn’t know how much he would charge me. I told him it was a very special gift for my wife and she would understand its true value. I don’t have a lot of money to offer you for this, but I will pay what you think is fair.”

The shopkeeper looking at John’s proposed gift for his wife, asked John, “ Where are you from son? I don’t know that I know you, and I know most people that come into my store.” John decided that he would give the shopkeeper an answer that was heartfelt, which was generally how John spoke to everyone. “ Well, sir, I grew up in the Mountain View Home for Orphans. When I turned 18, me and the girl I knew from the orphanage went to work at The Hollow Creek Distillery. That girl whose name is Mary is now my wife, and we live on the distillery property.”

All along while John was talking to the shopkeeper, Mr. Stoots was walking around the shop. As he was walking by John and the shopkeeper, he stopped to find out how it was going. John putting his hand on Jeffrey Stoots shoulder, said to the shopkeeper, “This is my boss, Mr. Stoots, the owner of the distillery I work at.”

The shopkeeper quickly covered his nose and mouth with both hands and sneezed. Then he started to laugh and said to John, “Well son I have knowin Jeffrey so many years that I’m not about to say nothing. You can have your discovery in my shop for $.50. Now I’m guessing you two better get back to the distillery. I just may stop by on my way home for a nip or two.”

Mary just looked at John holding the gift with a tender, tolerant smile. She just wanted to open the gift, but she appreciated John telling her how he came into having it for her.

“Ok, ok, open it, Mary, just open it.” Claudine felt that they had heard just about as much as they needed to on how John came about getting the gift for Mary. Claudine, looking back at Jeffrey telling him, “ Pull out your pocket knife, I’m pretty sure Mary’s gonna need a little help getting that gunny sack wrapping open.”

Jeffrey handed the pocket knife to John, “Here; youen better help Mary with this knife, looks like you sewed it up with 20 pound braided fishing line.”

John took the knife from Jeffrey. Turned to Mary, “Jeffrey is right, let me cut the sewin, just on one end, that way I believe you can slide my present to you out.”

Mary again took the present from John. She pretty much held his gift the way she did before, with both palms upturned, the gift resting across her hands as though it were being offered rather than received. But this time it was opened on one end, so Mary could easily reach in and grab the present.

Mary shifted her hands so she could easily reach in and pull out the gift that was so carefully and beautifully wrapped, fishing line and all. Mary, feeling inside, quickly realized that the package held a book. As she slid it out, the burlap wrapping was dropped to the floor. Now she was holding the book with both hands and studying the cover.

“John: I can’t believe what I’m looking at. Did you read the title of this book? Of course you did.” If there was such a thing as an enraptured look, it was written all over Mary’s expression. She just stared at the cover and read the words to herself, but John, Claudine, and Jeffrey could see her lips moving. She kept reading the title and other words on the cover repeatedly for the longest time.

After a good two long minutes, Mary looked up at John, “It’s,— It’s, the book, it’s — it’s called: The Cross And The Pinecone. I can’t believe such a book could ever exist.” Mary looked back at the cover of the book and studied it for at least another 30 seconds. Then she looked up at John. Her look this time was a little more serious-minded. Did you see the name of the author, you must have? This book was written by a woman named Eleanor McKinney. John, that’s our last name. I think there was an older couple at our wedding with the name of McKinney.

This is the end of part two. In part three you will learn the significance of The Cross And The Pinecone book, and the impact it had on John and Mary and all those that had the privilege of reading it.

This story or essay was written entirely by me, Rod Jones Artist-Writer, with human hand and imagination, no AI assistance. Any imperfections in grammar or punctuation are authentically mine.