Tuesday was one of those mornings you would want to stay in bed or curl up in a chair and read a good book. Raining and windy, we were certain there would be a small crowd for the METTS at Grace UMC. But they came out to hear our new North Augusta Director of Public Safety John C. Thomas and were rewarded with a speaker who charmed everyone. There are many people in public office who appear arrogant or tend to talk "down" to their audience, but Mr. Thomas talked "with" everyone, answering every question in detail, patiently suggesting a resolution to a problem. North Augusta is indeed fortunate to have John C. Thomas as the new director of Public Safety. Welcome, John, we hope you will be in our community for many years.

You've read in Wrinkles many stories regarding the METTS group, a group for over-50 men and women. Many months ago there were two ladies who did not belong to Grace UMC who came to visit and enjoy the programs and lunch at METTS. We have had many who came one or two times but these two have not missed many meetings. Why? Not only because the programs and food are good, but because of two people who reached out and took them into their hearts. Ted and "Cricket" Ellis asked these two ladies to sit at their table, laughed and talked with them and made them feel welcome. This is what brought them back again and again -- the warm welcome of two Christian people who cared and turned strangers into friends -- Ted and "Cricket" Ellis.

There's a beautiful popular song called "Butterfly Kisses" I learned from my daughter-in-law Helen. I was reminded of this when I read this story. "We often learn the most from our children. Some time ago, a friend of mine punished his 3-year old daughter for wasting a roll of gold wrapping paper. Money was tight, and he became infuriated when this child tried to decorate a box to put under the tree. Nevertheless, the little girl brought the gift to her father the next morning and said, "This is for you, Daddy." He was embarrassed by his earlier overreaction, but his anger flared again when he found that the box was empty. He yelled at her, "Don't you know that when you give someone a present, there's supposed to be something inside of it?" The little girl looked up at him with tears in her eyes and said, "Oh, Daddy, it's not empty. I blew kisses into the box, all for you, Daddy." The father was crushed. He put his arms around his little girl, and he begged her forgiveness. My friend told me that he kept that gold box by his bed for years. Whenever he was discouraged, he would take out an imaginary kiss and remember the love of the child who had put it there. In a very real sense, each of us as parents have been given a gold container filled with unconditional love and kisses from our children. There is no more precious possession anyone could hold.

A glad wrinkle turned sad last week. Our bridge group was excited to accept an invitation for bridge/lunch on Friday from Gail Harris, our "angel that flew" to Vidalia. Thursday, I received the sad news that my sister's husband in Greenville had passed away. His name was Marion Harrison and he was a "mover and shaker." He delivered our newspaper when I was in grammar school and claimed my sister as his "sweetheart." That love never ended. Always ambitious, loving cars and moving things, he taught me to drive when I was only 10. He married my sister and that marriage lasted 68 years, producing two boys. He was always smiling, always having a good word for everyone and helping his fellow man any way he could, sometimes being taken advantage of, but never complaining. A few years ago, when his eyesight began to fail and they no longer let him drive, he would tell me that he could still drive, he just couldn't see. He did not want to make you sad, always there with a kind word or a funny joke. In the infantry during the Second World War, he fought in the ditches, fighting for the freedom of his country. Saturday morning, the family stood with misty rain mixing with tears, listening to the mournful sound of taps, saying goodbye to a loved one.

"When one door closes, another opens, but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door that we do not see the one that has opened for us." (Alexander Graham Bell)

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