The Whole World Needs an Aunt Mary

Exclusive story from Mary Lester’s first book, Joy Mining: Digging for Diamonds in Life’s Difficulties. The rest of her stories will be available November 2024!

On my birthday last August my celebrator niece, Brittany, the one who knows how to give the best parties and inscribe cards with the perfect sentiment, decided to give me an “experience” as a present.  

She had chosen a picnic as that experience. For the picnic venue we were headed downtown to a wonderful green space by the river on a not-too-sunny day. But that not-too-sunny day decided to become a rainstorm and we had to postpone that wonderful picnic. Postpone and postpone and now it was December and she had planned a grand tea party at her house for our “picnic” birthday party. No one had ever given me a tea party. I was thrilled. Besides, anticipation is one of my favorite emotions.

Her birthday card to me on my real birthday had said, “The whole world needs an Aunt Mary.” I didn’t even need a tea party. Her words filled my soul and heart for a lifetime.

But, in the meantime, December’s cold had become brutal. A once-in-a-generation snow cyclone had been predicted. Wild things were in the air for sure. The night before the anticipated tea party at three-thirty in the morning a scary, an alien sound from the bathroom roused my sleep. I discovered the bathtub had burped and left little woodchip aliens in its wake.

I shook my head. This can’t be good.

Then I heard water running underneath my feet!

With my gloves and heavy coat, I grabbed a large flashlight, and headed for unfamiliar territory.

God, help me. This is certainly no tea party.

After opening the creaky door under the house, I tried never to open, I spied a rusty pipe spewing a waterfall.

NOOOOOOOO! Where is that place you turn the water off?

With the biggest wrench I could find, I still couldn’t get the handle to move. I found a bucket to catch the waterfall for at least for a few minutes.

What a mess! But I can’t do anything to fix it right now. I’ll just try to get some sleep before the party.

Some sound machines have the waterfall option to help facilitate sleep. I had my own waterfall running underneath me that night.

Despite the horror below, I did find a little sleep above, and checked the bucket in the morning. To my amazement the waterfall was now only a trickle.

The bucket only had inches of water. I called the plumber.

“Sounds like your pipes are stopped up. We’ll have to see what’s going on. Yeah, I can get there probably between three and four this afternoon. There are already a few in front of you. See you then.” He told me.

“Between three and four? Thank you so much!” I answered.  

The bucket had held back the deluge. The Titanic wasn’t sinking.  I put on my party clothes and headed to the festivities.

When Brittany took my coat, I turned around to a magical world like Alice in Wonderland’s tea party. Platters filled with pink, green, and yellow tea cookies with sprinkles. Tiny cucumber sandwiches nestled next to peanut butter and jelly ones. There was a little magic for everyone. And it was all circled by the picture window that kept the cold out and our laughter in. The peppermint tea she had asked me to pick was the perfect complement with its warm scent blanketing us all. 

The joy we shared was a buffer to what I knew I might be facing when I returned home. I didn’t want to leave. Brittany boxed me some leftovers.

I got the leftovers in the refrigerator right before the plumber called. “I’m on my way.” Perfect timing.

Unfamiliar noises continued to rumble from beneath the hardwood floors of my nearly 100-year-old home. I hoped all would be well but was bracing myself for the worst.

The plumber scraped his boots as he climbed the stairs to give me the verdict. I held my breath. “Ma’am, you’ve got some terrible plumbing problems. Tree roots have invaded your pipes.  We’ll have to put a camera down there to see what’s going on.”

The same trees I had loved gazing at for twenty years had now turned against me.

He continued, “You may have to have your old, clay pipes replaced.”

“How much does that cost?” The question I hated asking.

He looked down and off to the side. “Could be thousands.”

This was not the Christmas present I had wanted. I had planned to get my piano turned. That was expensive enough.

It was thousands.

Before I knew it, a small army and a ditch-digging machine was growling in my beautiful backyard garden and, indeed, I was looking at an alien world. And a predicted once-in-a-generation snow cyclone was on its way.

During the chaos in my own backyard, I had an important doctor’s appointment on the calendar. Four-fifteen on the second day of digging.

The doctor’s office is only five minutes away. Surely nothing else terrible will happen. At this point I could picture a new geyser or two when I got back.

At the office I announced my arrival. “Mary Lester. Four-fifteen.” The receptionist disappeared behind her computer and then looked back at me with an end-of-the-day look.

“I’m sorry, we don’t have you down for today at four-fifteen. It was last week.”

I had nothing left. My head dropped on the counter, and I began to whimper. I couldn’t believe I had gotten the appointments mixed up.

The receptionist stood up and leaned down over my head at the end of her long day and said, “Ah, don’t worry about it. People get that mixed up all the time. It’s going to be alright.”

I slowly rose up.  “Really?… You promise it’s going to be, okay?” And then my story poured out like air in a popped balloon. About the tea party, the wonderful “The whole world needs an Aunt Mary card.” The plumbing disaster in my backyard I would be returning to.

She came out from behind her protective glass, introduced herself, and gave me a big hug, “My name’s Ashley. I think you told me last year about your writing a book.”

I was recovering. “I think I did…” 

Ashley said, “Yeah, the whole world really does need an Aunt Mary. I have one. She reminds me a lot of you. Funny. Caring. But right now, my aunt Mary is suffering from cancer and is in a lot of pain.”

“I am so sorry, Ashley. There are somethings worse than plumbing problems and appointment mix-ups I will be praying for her.”

Ashley worked her magic, and I got an appointment at eight AM the next morning. She came out the next day and gave me another hug as I greeted my new friend.

“I’ll be checking on you. And I will continue praying for your Aunt Mary. The whole world really does need an Aunt Mary, Ashley. Thanks for being mine yesterday.”

The snow began to swirl as I headed back home. A last shovel of dirt was tapped down on one of my favorite flowering bushes. The crew was packing up to leave as I parked my car.

“Is it really finished? You’re done?”  I asked. Heads nodded. Snowflakes were sticking to our faces now. I had one more question. “Can I use toilet paper now?”

“Yes, ma’am.” A deep-voiced plumber answered. “Yeah, we got to go do another job just like yours.”

“In this weather? Wow! God bless you. Thank you so much for what you’ve done for me! I responded.

The smell of diesel filled the air as the trucks left. The ground was level now. Mostly. I had survived the invasion. And I had learned that even during what I thought I couldn’t survive, God had left me enough to care for someone else.

Next week I would be checking on Ashley and her Aunt Mary.

We all need one and we can all be one, no matter the circumstances.