We lived in two huts on Kibbutz Erez, Suzy and I in one and our kids next door. Now we’re not talking about the huts of Polynesian tribespeople, but pretty darn close. It was one large room divided by a piece of furniture for our clothing. On one side was a bed; on the other a couch, a lightbulb in the ceiling with a string, and a telephone. Why in heaven’s name there was a telephone is beyond me, but without it this phenomenal story wouldn’t have taken place.
The workday was over around 2:00 pm. I would come back from the fields exhausted and take a nap while Suzy took the kids to the beautiful swimming pool. After an hour or so they’d come back and I’d be as chipper as possible.
One day as they walked through the door I said, “Hi, you’ll never guess who called?” As the words came out of my mouth I knew how dumb they sounded. “Called?” asked Suzy, “No one has this number.” Well, when I told her who “called” it sounded even more bizarre. “Dave Mueller called,” I said. Dave is a retired Lutheran minister, a truly great friend for decades. “Oh,” she said, “Dave Mueller called. And why did Dave Mueller call?”
More bizarre? It gets worse.
Should I even say why? Before I answered, Suzy says, “I think you had a dream. You know when you nap after working as hard as you do, you’re out for the count. I don’t even think you’d hear the phone ring! So, Peter, why did Dave ‘call?’”
I was beginning to doubt myself; even I realized how weird the whole thing sounded. Maybe I did dream it, and once I told her the reason he called, I thought to myself, she won’t stop laughing. I should have just said, “I’m only kidding, he didn’t call.” But I know he had (I think) so I said, “He asked me to bring back holy water.” I was right, she did laugh. “You ought to write up that dream,” she said.
I asked my host, “Where can I get holy water?” and he said, “Just turn on the spigot. All our water is ‘holy’ since it’s from the Jordan River.” I thought that was too easy. Our ten-year-old son said, “I know where you can find it. The new gas station has a gift shop and I saw holy water bottles.” We took a trip there and while the gift shop wasn’t yet open, we were able to walk through and, sure enough, there were packaged bottled holy water. It would be much more expensive than tap water, but I thought this would be more “authentic.”
OK, so we get home and before we called my parents, I called Dave. His first words when he answered? “Well, d’ja get it?” I put Suzy on the phone and asked him to be specific. “I just want to know if you brought me the holy water I called about?”
He who laughs last…
And this is the last segment of the series.