The congregation then had consisted mainly of old people; some Sundays the youngest member was sixty-seven years old! The women in particular had made Lucy feel welcome. They had fussed over baby Toby, delivered casseroles to her house when she caught pneumonia, and given her slips and cuttings from their gardens. Lucy was truly fond of some of the old members like Miss Tilley. She smiled to see her gaunt figure and straight back across the aisle.

When Miss Tilley had been the librarian at the Broadbrooks Free Library, she had been legendary for her strict overdue book policy and her tart tongue. She was not likable, but she had a penetrating intelligence that earned her the town’s respect. It was rumored that she had been friends with Longfellow’s daughter, Alice, and Lucy always meant to ask her if it was true.

Next to Miss Tilley sat Faith Willets. Faith was a simple, good-hearted woman who dressed in plain old polyester from Sears—and had the most beautiful garden Lucy had ever seen. Faith was the president of the Organic Gardening Club, and wrote the “Garden Checklist” that appeared in the Pennysaver each week. The acre surrounding her Cape Cod house was planted like an English cottage garden with fruit trees, perennial flowers, herbs, and even vegetables. Faith was the primary donor to the Memorial Day plant sale, and Lucy was a faithful customer.

In fact, Lucy had first discovered the Tinker’s Cove church through the annual plant and used-book sales. One year Bill had discovered a treasure trove of erotica in the paperback section and had returned hopefully every year since. When she felt lonely and depressed after Toby’s birth, Lucy began attending services. She’d given up trying to be an Episcopalian in her teens when she’d decided she just couldn’t believe in God. She’d missed the hymns and sermons, however, and had been delighted to discover the friendly, informal community church. Shortly after she’d become a member, old Dr. Greenhut died and the congregation called a new, young minister, Dave Davidson.

Dave and his wife, Carol, were not a traditional ministerial couple. Carol avoided the Women’s Club meetings like the plague and rarely attended Sunday services. Instead she poured her energy into her career as a sculptor and turned the old barn behind the rectory into a studio. The congregation didn’t seem to mind; in fact, the Davidsons brought a new energy and vitality to the old church. Sunday school classes were organized and filled rapidly as many young families realized something was missing from their lives that church could provide.

The service was ending. Everyone rose to sing the “Hallelujah” chorus from Handel’s Messiah. No one could resist joining in, and the church was filled with the sound of joyous if somewhat off-key voices raised in celebration.