Rev. Stengaard was the preacher at The Tabernacle on Mt. Auburn Street in Watertown, Massachusetts, a small wooden structure within which resided fervor and faith. As well, Rev. Stengaard was our source over the years for beautiful cats and kittens; if our pet cat was hit by a car or died of old age or ran away, Rev. Stengaard was at the ready with yet another kitten. This morning, I'm trying to decide if I should record one of my father's favorite stories about Rev. Stengaard, or if I should write about my father's favorite kitten, Pepsi Cola. As it's Sunday, I think I'll write my father's favorite story about Rev. Stengaard; the story's punchline reverberated over the years throughout our household whenever my mother was preparing eggs for breakfast! Here goes . . .
Rev. Stengaard was a slim and wiry man, an evangelist, whose best friend Rev. Anthony Zioli, a fellow evangelist, was big and burly. One weekend, Brother Zioli came to visit Rev. Stengaard to participate in an evangelistic revival at the Tabernacle; the morning after the revival, Stengaard was preparing breakfast in his kitchen and called up to Zioli who was still getting dressed: How do you like your egg, Zioli? Zioli shouted down without hesitation: With another one!
the way i remember the story is a little different. : Ziolli had been there a week laboring with stengard at the revival meeting. stengard, every morning would fix ziolli his breakfast which consisted of one egg, one piece of toast, a glass of orange juice and a cup of coffee. under this regimen, Ziolli, a large man, was diminishing. after a week of enduring breakfast made by the hands of a man half ziolli's size, and a quarter of ziolli's appetite, ziolli had reached a point where the flesh had to be addressed in the spirit. not wanting to confront Stengard head on, he seized the opportunity granted him by heaven above by responding to his host's interrogative, arithmetically. thus, in this instance, anyway, in that week of revival, the word became flesh.
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