Sander loves his mother. He walks a few steps after her, wearing a new black suit that has room for him to grow into, carrying a big black valise of pamphlets. When his mother goes to the front door, rings the bell, waits for an answer, Sander stands behind her, looking over her shoulder, with an expression on his face that he means to be pleasant.

It’s the second day of his summer vacation, but it still feels like spring. Lilacs bloom in every yard; irises wag their pink and purple tongues at him.

His mother is plain. She wears a gray sweater, despite the sun, and a black skirt that reaches nearly to her ankles. No lipstick, short, practical hair. Her name is Anna. She makes up for her plainness with a big galvanic smile. People are on her side right away, though they rarely open the screen door and almost never take a pamphlet. Nobody new ever comes to Fellowship. Anna doesn’t take this as permission to stop trying. She thinks the men and women and children in these sleeping houses will lose the chance to live life as God intended unless they take the message she brings them in the pamphlet. Sander thinks she is lovely and brave and admirable. Every day, she tries to save strangers. Selfless. Sander loves his mother.

Today! is the name of the pamphlet.

Sander has just finished his sophomore year. At the first breath of spring, the girls all started to dress like prostitutes. This is what Sander thinks about as he walks behind his mother, feeling the hot sun wherever it touches the black fabric of his suit. That and the bad haircut he got yesterday.

The haircut! He feels tears start again at the thought of it. Some friend of his mother’s, in her kitchen. When she brought out the mirror: death. As if every single thing in his life were there to disqualify him.

A nice enough street, anyway. Lots of students from the college. It’s a Tuesday afternoon, so nobody much answers the door. Those who do are mostly wearing flannel pajama bottoms and flip-flops. Some of the men don’t even have on shirts. His mother rings the bell, and a college girl comes to the screen door, and if she came outside Sander could tell if she was wearing a bra under her thin little shirt. But she says no, thanks, not interested, thanks, and closes the inner door on them, though it was open before.

Another soul misses out on eternal life in an earthly Paradise.

Why can’t he be like his mother? Why can’t he just be good?

Immense transparency of light, the sky a luminous blue. He takes a deep breath and lets God’s grace fill him. All this great gift, this flowering world. It is not Sander’s place to question why a God so generous can also be so exacting. Why do they have to work so hard to come to Him? Sin is everywhere, the path to goodness narrow and sometimes hard to find. But this is nothing next to His generosity...read more