Here's a news roundup of many ways that Adventists are making the news this Christmas in their local communities.

One of the highlights of evening was the singing of “O Holy Night” by Susan Hamilton of the Seventh Day Adventist Church and Pastor David Soden of Richmond Avenue Baptist Church. The crowd reacted with a thundering applause.
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Nunez said that the food bank and other charitable efforts support more than 300 people a month.

As well as food, the organization provides blankets and clothing, and for people who have found a residence, St. Vincent de Paul provides dishes, cookware and other household necessities.

"We do provide some furnishings, but just not to everyone," Nunez said. "They have to demonstrate that they are working to get off the street."

Two other organizations that provide support for the homeless and needy, based upon donations, are the Seventh-Day Adventist Church through its Dorca program, and the Salvation Army.

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PAW PAW, W.Va. — Rose Estep doesn’t let anyone inside her trailer.

For almost a decade she’s lived there alone, kept to herself inside the rotting, 50-year-old structure she bought for $500 from a woman who wanted a hundred more.

Dusty and sagging, it sits near the top of a mountain at the end of Cloud High Lane, a narrow dirt road that twists and climbs toward the heavens.

The winter wind blows hard up there, whips across the trees and settles into the bones.

For a couple of years, Estep lived without heat or electricity, huddling under piles of blankets, “camping out” in rooms that hadn’t been damaged by flooding.

She wouldn’t let anyone see her home — not friends or family or co-workers. It would simply cause distress. And even without running water or an indoor bathroom, Estep got along OK.

Then one day last spring a new friend from church wouldn’t back down.

Gary Kasekamp drove up the mountain to bring Estep groceries after getting to know her in Bible study and learning she wasn’t well-off. Outside her door, he pleaded for the better part of an hour to let him look inside. Estep finally relented. Kasekamp was stunned.

An elder at Cumberland’s Seventh-day Adventist Church, he saw conditions as poor as some he’d observed in Third World countries, where he’d taken at least a dozen mission trips.

“When I walked into that place,” Kasekamp said one day last week, his voice trailing off. “It was in pretty rough shape.”

He took his concerns to the church board, then, with the members’ blessing, started organizing a project to give Estep a present, hopefully in time for Christmas.

Volunteers from four local Seventh-day Adventist congregations would build her a house.

They christened it “The Rose Project” and started raising funds.

In September they painted signs with a single red rose to show the way up the mountain, past the ruts and turns, to get to Estep’s place. Volunteers agreed to meet once a week — on Sundays — to work on the house.

Unlike most Christian denominations, Seventh-day Adventists observe the Sabbath on Saturday, as described in the Old Testament.

The first Rose Project work day was Sept. 21, when two dozen volunteers cleared the site. They came from Cumberland, Frostburg, Oakland and Romney, where the Adventists have congregations, each with fewer than 100 members.

Known as a conservative Christian denomination, the church has about 15 million members around the world and participates in a “global mission” to spread the gospel of Christ. It has projects in more than 200 countries, the church’s Web site says. Kasekamp has been to Honduras and the Dominican Republic, Guatemala and Mexico.

“We go to all these places and do stuff,” said Kasekamp, a woodworker who lives just outside Oldtown. “There’s people right here that need help. It’s just finding these people and figuring out who really needs the help and wants the help. It’s hard.”

Over 12 successive Sundays, with intermittent work by a handful of workers, Rose Project volunteers poured footers, laid sewage pipe and water lines, raised the walls and shingled the roof.

By Nov. 16, they were installing doors and windows. By Dec. 14, the electrical work was done.

Almost everything was donated — insulation, shingles, concrete and lumber from a company that has no ties to the church.

“I just called them and asked them,” Kasekamp said.

One church volunteer is paying for all the kitchen cabinets. Another man from Oakland did all the electrical work for free. Another dropped off a never-used propane heater he’d bought for his own family.

Just three days before Christmas, they’d spent only about $6,800 of the $16,000 raised.

Estep, 45, is dumbfounded by the generosity.

Raised a Baptist in West Virginia, she said she strayed from the church after a difficult childhood. After graduating from a Maryland high school, she began working minimum-wage jobs, sometimes two or three at a time to make ends meet, she said.

In 2002, she quit her last job as a sewing machine operator because of lupus and other related disabilities, she said.

“I figured sitting down I could probably do something,” she said. “And it was right close to my home. But my knee gave out, then my hands gave out. And my emotions gave out, cause I was really at the end of my rope.”

Never married, she has no children and lives on the Social Security check she gets once a month.

About a year ago she began writing letters to a pen pal with a member of a Seventh-day Adventist Bible study. By spring, she had found her way to Kasekamp and the Cumberland church.

When Kasekamp knocked on her trailer door that day, she didn’t want to let him in.

“I don’t like trailers, but that one was the right price at the right time,” said Estep, who had bought about 14 acres near the top of the mountain in 1987. “You do what you do. I mean, it’s better than being homeless, out in the elements and all. It was protection against the winter.”

Estep’s new house will be simple — four rooms, about 700 square feet. Church members plan to round up donated furniture and other items so she can set up housekeeping.

Last week, Estep watched, clear-eyed and ruddy-cheeked, while workers installed insulation. From the bedroom window, she can see the mountains of West Virginia, Pennsylvania and Maryland.

“I love to watch the snow come down,” Estep said, shifting from foot to foot to keep circulation flowing in the 20-degree cold. “And thunderstorms in the spring.”

The house won’t be ready by Christmas, but Estep should be moved in shortly after the new year, church members hope.

Once she’s settled, Estep plans to have an open house to thank everyone. She plans to hang a plaque over the door.

“The House That Love Built,” it will say. “Because God is Love.”
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And finally, a blog poem from a retired Loma Linda Dentistry Professor:

Once upon a Tuesday dreary
As I pondered thoughtless and weary
That, I'd written days before
Mindless drivel designed to bore
There came a tapping at my door
Irritating tapping at my chamber door

Opening, I thot to find a Raven
Rather than Raven there was a man
Garbed in brown with a matching van
Packages wrapped and taped in hand
Grinning as though this was something grand

But better I knew
And had not to guess
Santa had sent him
To the wrong address.

p.s.
Merry Christmas to all sufficiently dour
With faces twisted to grimaces sour
As nearer comes the expectant hour
When relatives appear with gifts to shower
Who clean the table and ice box too
And ride clear of the mess hailing
"Merry Christmas," to you!

Once upon a time there lived a poor man named Christian who had a very limited wardrobe. It consisted of only one garment - a robe given to him by his Lord as a present. He wore it to church every week and was content. He didn't care much for fashion and paid no attention to what others were wearing.

Now it so happened that there also lived an itinerant tailor who roamed the earth from end to end. One afternoon he knocked on Christian's door.

"Excuse me, sir", said the tailor. "I attend at your church from time to time and couldn't help notice your shabby robe. It stands out in sharp contrast from some of the real classy dressers in your congregation. So I took it upon myself to inquire and see if I might be of some assistance. I am, in all modesty, the finest tailor in the Christian world. I have designed clothes for some famous churchmen, whose names might surprise you. But I even make clothes for average people like you. In fact, I've created whole wardrobes for many in your congregation. Perhaps you've noticed?"

Christian admitted he hadn't. Then he looked down at his garment. It looked fine, even beautiful. But he was a bit flattered that such a popular tailor would be willing to sew for him.

"Well", said Christian. "I've never paid much attention to how I'm dressed. But I would like the others in church to think well of me."

The tailor smiled and discreetly edged his foot in the door.

"I can see already that you're a man of good taste. But let me tell you more."

"I will make for you a handsome suit of clothes. It will be made of the finest material, which I myself will weave. But here is the most remarkable thing - the material is invisible to those who do not truly know God."

"Why that's amazing!" said Christian to the tailor, who by now was standing in the front hallway. Christian felt strangely excited. "No one in church ever notices me", he thought, and looked down again at his robe.

It was very plain.

"Yes sir", he said. "I believe I'd like a suit like that."

"Fine", said the tailor. "I was sure you would." He whisked away, then returned in a flash with his equipment - loom, cutting table, etc. which he promptly set up in Christian's living room.

"Now", he said. "Let's decide what kind of suit would look best on you. Are you intellectual?"

"Well, I don't know", said Christian. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, I've made some marvelous suits out of intellectual material", said the tailor. "I have some Higher-Critical thread that might weave up just fine. Perhaps with a matching eschatological vest, an existential hat, a pair of antinomian loafers ...".

"Well, I don't know", said Christian. "I dress a bit more conservatively than that."

"Ah, conservative! Something along traditional lines. Yes, yes. I often make clothes like that. Let's see ... something zealous! Perhaps some heresy-resistant material would be best. A nice blend of upholding-the-standards and avoiding-evil."

The tailor paused. "No, that's not quite you. Yes, I have it. For you we need something middle-of-the-road. A nice triple-weave of attendance, loyalty and tithing. Something comfortable, right? Woven from the finest thread - imported from Laodecia. Then maybe a hat that will keep out the sun, a sturdy pair of shoes that will go the second mile. Nothing flashy, just durable. Clothes that you know will take you through to the kingdom."

With that the tailor began to set up his loom. But to Christian's shock - there was no thread!

"Oh dear", he thought. "Could it be that I do not truly know God?"

"Look", said the tailor. "See how durable, yet fine the thread is". He held his empty hands out toward Christian. "Do you like it?"

"Uh, yes", said Christian. "Superb."

The tailor smiled to himself, then began threading the loom. All afternoon he worked, the shuttle clacking back and forth across the empty loom. Evening came. Finally he finished weaving and elaborately removed the finished product. He carefully carried the pile of air to the cutting table.

"See how beautifully muted the pattern is?" he said. "Such strong and durable cloth."

Christian squinted. Could he see it? It must be there, it must be! "Why yes", he thought, "I believe I can see it. I'm not a spiritual giant like the tailor but I believe I can even make out the pattern. Knowing God is certainly harder than I thought, but", he squinted harder, "I do believe I'm making progress."

Now the tailor was fitting the pieces and the suit began taking shape. On through the night he worked. Dawn came. At last he was finished.

"There!" he exclaimed, holding up a bare coat hanger. "Look at it."

Christian raised his head from the arm of the couch where he'd been sleeping and rubbed his eyes. Was it there?

"Oh my, my", said the tailor. "No time to lose. You'll be late for church. Here, let's try it on."

Christian took off his robe and was helped into the suit.

"Look in the mirror", said the tailor. "Isn't it great?"

Christian looked at his jockey shorts. "Great."

"I knew you'd love it. Here's the bill. I take Visa or MasterCard."

Christian was stunned. The price was enormous! Why hadn't he asked about the price to begin with? Too late. The tailor whisked Christian's Visa card out and ran it through his machine.

"Sign here. You're late for church."

Christian signed.

"Better hurry along", said the tailor, pushing Christian toward the door. "I'll let myself out."

Christian stood on the porch. It certainly was cold out here. He looked at his watch. "My, I AM late", he thought, and began to run. He ran the several blocks to church, up the steps and into the lobby, out of breath. Then he remembered. His new clothes! And he looked down at himself. He was standing in his underwear. An edge of panic began creeping up. He looked around the lobby. And there was the Head Deacon – standing in HIS underwear. And there was the Choir Director and Education Superintendent - standing the THEIR underwear. It seemed like half the lobby was underdressed!

"Good to see you, Christian", said Deacon George. "Say, that's a sharp suit you've got on. I've been wondering when you'd get some new clothes."

"Uh, you look good yourself, George." Christian stared at George's long johns.

"You know, I think we have the same tailor."

Rich Hannon is a software engineer who lives in Salt Lake City. His reading interests focus on philosophy and medieval history.