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By Candy Abbot The clank of the metal door and the echo of their footsteps rang in the ears of Ivy and Joanne as they walked down the dingy corridor behind the prison guard toward the "big room." The aroma of Ivy's homemade chocolate chip cookies wasn't enough to override the stench of ammonia from the recently mopped floor or the bitterness and anger that hung in the air. Women's Correctional Institute was not the kind of place where seventeen-year-olds go for an outing, but Ivy had a mission. She didn't know what she was getting into, but she had to try. With trembling fingers, she dialed the number for an appointment at the prison. Warden Baylor was receptive to Ivy's desire to visit and referred her to Joanne, another teen who had expressed interest. "How do we do this?" Ivy asked. "Who knows? Maybe homemade cookies would break the ice," Joanne suggested. So they baked their cookies and here they were, bearing gifts to strangers. "I put almonds in these," Ivy rambled nervously as they moved along. "The dough was gummier than usual . . . " "Don't chatter," the guard snapped. "It gets the prisoners riled." The harsh words made Ivy jump and her heart pound. She walked the rest of the distance in silence. "Okay. Here we are," the guard grunted, keys rattling." You go in. I'll lock the door behind you. Be careful what you say. They have a way of using your words against you. You have fifteen minutes. Holler if you have any trouble." Ivy noted the prisoners' orange jumpsuits and felt overdressed. Maybe we shouldn't have worn heels, she thought. They probably think we're snobs. Remembering the guard's admonition, the girls put the cookies on the table next to plastic cups of juice without a word. Some prisoners leaned against the wall; others stood around -- watching. Studying. Thinking. Staring. Nobody talked. Ivy smiled at one of the women, and she scowled back. From then on, she avoided eye contact. After five minutes of strained silence, Joanne whispered, "Let's move away from the table. Maybe they'll come over." As they stepped back, one of the prisoners blurted out, "I'm gettin' a cookie." The others followed and began helping themselves. Soon they heard the rattle of keys. Time was up. "What a relief to get outta there," Joanne sighed as a gust of fresh air caressed their perspiring faces. "Yeah," Ivy agreed. "But there's a tug inside me that we're not done. Would you be willing to go back?" Joanne nodded with a half-smile. "How about Thursday after school?" Week after week they came. And week after week the prisoners ate the cookies, drank the juice and stood around in silence. Gradually, antagonistic looks were replaced by an occasional smile. Still, Ivy couldn't bring herself to speak -- not a word. Then one Thursday, an evangelist walked in. Her step was sure, her chin was high, and she glowed with the love of God. But she meant business. "I've come to pray with you," she announced. "Let's make a circle." Ivy was awed by the inmates' compliance. Only a few resisted. The others, although murmuring, inched their way toward the middle of the room and formed a lopsided circle, looking suspiciously at one another. "Join hands," the evangelist instructed. "It's not gonna hurt ya, and it'll mean more if you do." Slowly they clasped hands, some grasping hard, others barely touching. "Now, bow your heads." Except for the orange outfits, it could have been a church meeting. "Okay. We're gonna pray," she continued, "and prayer is just like talking, only to God. I want to hear you tell the Lord one thing you're thankful for. Just speak it out. Don't hold back." Ivy's palms were sweaty. I can't pray out loud, Lord. I can't even talk to these women. Guess I should set an example, but they probably don't even like me -- think I'm better than them 'cause of my clothes. The words of an inmate jolted from her thoughts. "I'm thankful, God, for Miss Ivy bringing us cookies every week." Another voice compounded the shock, "God, thanks for bringing a black lady to see us, not just Quakers and Presbyterians." Ivy's eyes brimmed with tears as she heard, "Thank you, God, for these two ladies givin' their time every week even though we can't do nothin' to pay 'em back." One by one, every inmate in the circle thanked God for Ivy and Joanne. Then Joanne managed to utter a prayer of gratitude for the prisoners' words. But when it came Ivy's turn, she was too choked up to speak. Her eyes burned in humble remorse over how wrong she'd been about these women. She wished she could blow her nose, but the inmates were squeezing her hands so tightly, she resorted to loud sniffles and an occasional drip. The following week, Ivy and Joanne returned, bright-eyed, to find the prisoners talkative. "Why do you bring us cookies every week?" a husky voice inquired from the corner of the room. When Ivy explained, she inched a few steps closer. "Can you get me a Bible?" she asked. Others wanted to know more about the Jesus who inspires teenagers to visit prisoners. A ministry was born from Ivy's cookies. What started as a silent act of kindness and obedience turned into a weekly Bible study at the prison which eventually grew so big it split into several groups that continue to this day. After Joanne married and moved away, Ivy continued to minister to the inmates alone for years. Eventually Prison Fellowship picked up the baton. Ivy is a grandmom now. Her radiance has increased over the years, and she brightens any room she enters. But last Thursday afternoon she indulged herself in a good cry. Curled up on the couch, wrapped in the afghan her daughter had made, she wept. Deep sobs wracked her body as she remembered it had been one year since her daughter died of asthma. She ached over the loss and felt, for the first time, the full weight of her words, "The kids can live with me." The baby was asleep in his crib and the two girls were in school when the doorbell rang. There stood a young woman, probably seventeen, with a plate of homemade cookies. "Are you Ivy Jones?" she asked. "Yes," she answered, dabbing her eyes with a wadded tissue. "These are for you," the girl said as she handed the cookies to her with a shy, sad smile, turning to leave without another word. "Thank you," Ivy whispered in a daze. The girl was halfway down the sidewalk when Ivy called out, "But why?" "My grandmother gave me her Bible before she died last week, and her last words were, 'Find Ivy Jones and take her some homemade cookies.'" As the girl walked away, a wave of precious memories, uncertainties and younger days flooded Ivy's soul. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she choked back a sob and headed toward the phone. Its been a long time since I talked with Joanne. Candy Abbott Send Candy an email and let her know what you thought of her story! Reprinted by permission of Candy Abbott. ©1998 Candy Abbott. ************* You can order Candy's book at the following link! Fruit-Bearer What Can I do for you Lord? Candy's story also appears in "Chicken Soup for the Prisoner's Soul" which is NOT available in bookstores -- yet. To receive a copy of "Chicken Soup for the Prisoner's Soul" autographed by co-author Tom Lagana, please send a check for $17.20 ($12.95 + $4.25 shipping and handling) payable to "Tom Lagana," along with the name to autographed it to, shipping address, and mail to: "Prisoner's Soul" - Autographed Copy PO Box 7816 Wilmington, DE 19803 _____________________________________ LET'S GO SURFING DUDE! ~ God Laughs
_____________________________________ FORGETTABLE FACT A Boeing 747's wingspan is longer than the Wright brother's first flight. ______________________________________ Thought For The Day: "Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around."
"Finally bretheren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and anything worthy of praise, let your mind dwell on these things." Philippians 4:8
"O, Lord, give me a son whose heart will be clear, whose goal will be high, a son who will master himself before he seeks to master other men; one who will reach into the future, yet never forget the past." (General Douglas MacArthur) Coach's Thought For The Day "God wisely designed the human body so that we can neither pat our own backs, nor kick ourselves too easily."
"If I had to choose one incident that sparked my love, study, and eventual career in astronomy, it would be the first time I saw a picture of that planet--you know, the one with those neat space-rings around it." _________________________________________
I recently read of a motorist who was caught in an automated speed trap. His speed was measured by a radar machine and his car was automatically photographed. In a few days he received a ticket for $40 in the mail along with a picture of his automobile. As payment, he sent the police department a snapshot of $40. Several days later, he received a letter from the police. It contained another picture -- of handcuffs! _________________________________________ UPCOMING TOPICS FOR ALL-STARS If you are in 6-12th grade and live in the southern Wisconsin/northern Illinois area and would like to check us out, we meet every Sunday night from 6:30-8:00 PM at Faith Community Church which is located at 2931 Lucerene Dr. in Janesville, WI. (About 4-5 blocks south-east of The Skating Place.) Currently we have students from Fort Atkinson, Milton, Janesville Craig, Janesville Parker, Orfordville, Clinton, Beloit Memorial, Beloit Turner, and Hononegah. E-mail me back if you have any questions about our weekly meetings or would like to come to any of our events that are listed below... We have way too much fun and then, most importantly, talk about issues that are relevant to you as a teenager. Here are our upcoming topics: 10/27 -- Halloween -- Harmless fun or should we take it a lot more seriously than we do? You decide! 11/3 -- Two Sets of Joneses -- Which one are you going to be? (Tap into the Power to change your life!) 11/10 -- Respect Part 2 11/17 -- Teen Pregnancy 11/24 -- Abortion 12/1 -- "Feel the Noise" a candid discussion of your favorite music! 12/8 -- What does the Bible say about alternative lifestyles? _________________________________________
"I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me." Galatians 2:20
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Touching Lives - One E-mail at a Time! Author Michael T. Powers - HeartTouchers @ aol.com
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