There it sat, wrapped in green paper with drawings of Candy Canes, surrounded by a carefully-tied broad red ribbon. The smell of the cookies inside the package lingered in the air. The Master’s wife had baked several dozen of the Christmas treats and put them into little parcels to be delivered to the widows of members of the Lodge. The Master had driven around to drop them off, along with a card and a holiday wish from their late husband’s brothers in Masonry. But one package remained on the dining room table.

“All of the guys jumped up and volunteered at the last stated meeting to take these little packages to the widows, but I’m the only one who’s been doing it”, thought the Master to himself. “I know! I’ll call around and see who can deliver this last one.”

He speed dialed his Senior Warden. The Warden answered.

“Bob, it’s Rick,” said the Master cheerfully. “Mrs. Brown’s cookies are over here and I was wondering if you could drop them off?

“We talked to her a few days ago and told her we’d do it tonight, and…”

“Wow, I’d like to,” “but tonight’s really a bad night. It’s my War craft night and I’m kicking Ass.”

“Can’t you play some other night?”

“Not now. I’m in the middle of this. Maybe tomorrow, if I’m not at a new level in a few hours.”

The Master thanked him and put a call in to the Junior Deacon.

“Steve, remember you said you could help deliver the widow’s Christmas presents? Well, Mrs. Brown is sitting at…”

“I am sorry,” said the Junior Deacon. “I know I said that, but my office Christmas party is tonight and I have to go to that. The boss kind of expects it.”

“Can’t you say no or get there a little late?”

“Well you know he doesn’t have a very good opinion of us because when he wants me to work late and I can’t cause we’re doing something at the lodge. Besides the drinks are free. Talk to you next meeting.”
The Junior Deacon hung up. Somewhat discouraged, the Master tried a few other members, but all were busy with parties or just too tired after work. Finally, the Master tried the last person on his list, a Past Master of the Lodge.

“Joe, I need your help. Last meeting you said you’d help deliver the widow’s gifts. Mrs. Brown is sitting at home waiting and…”

“Brown/!” he interrupted. “Did you know he dumped on me the whole year I was in the chair. He kept giving me hell for every little thing.”

“But Joe that doesn’t have anything to do with this widow, its lodge tradition we go out and deliver..”

“And another thing,” butted in the Past Master. “ Last meeting you came down to the Alter at the wrong time. And you didn’t knock correctly to close the Lodge. Can’t you follow traditions?”

“We were talking about Mrs. Brown…”

“Brown. The hell with him.” and the phone went dead.

The Master prepared to deliver the lonely package, when the phone rang. He picked up the receiver.

“Hello my name is Mrs. Lane,” the feeble old voice said, “I live next door to Gladys Brown. I though I should call you. She has been taken to the Hospital.”

“What!?” answered the stunned Master.

“ I invited her to dinner this evening, but she couldn’t come because she was expecting the Masons gift. She got a little tried waiting so was attempting to call you Masons to see if there was a problem, but she tripped on the carpet and fell. I think she was on the floor for awhile. It looks serious. Thought I should call you.”

“My father was a Mason a long time ago,” Mrs. Lane said. “He didn’t talk about it much, but I remember one year during the depression, the Masons helped us. One Christmas we had nothing, but a bunch of Masons came to the house with a lovely tree, presents and a turkey. The put the tree up and we all sang Christmas songs. Oh it was lovely. I learned then that when things are tough you can depend on Masons.”

Thank you for calling me Mrs. Lane,” said the Master.

“To bad someone didn’t get here a little earlier because this probably wouldn’t have happened,” added the old women. “ But God Bless you Masons.”

“Yes, thanks again,” replied the Master and gently hung up the phone.

As the Master put on his jacket, and picked up the little wrapped parcel, and walked out into the moon -it evening, he wondered if the Masons today really were like their forefathers.