When You Wish Upon a Star

In every community, there are a few I people who, from the beginning, have guided and kept it on solid footing through their tireless commitment to the community's life.

It could be said that Sojourners Community came to birth when Jim Wallis asked Joe Roos 18 years ago in a dormitory at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School outside Chicago, "Where do we get the sheets for the beds?" Each was the first person the other met when they arrived at the seminary campus.

In the years since, every one of us in the community has benefited from Joe's patience and willingness to listen, sound economic advice, and endless overtime hours to keep the community and magazine financially afloat as he has served us as a pastor, publisher, and administrator. We decided at Christmas he needed to be rewarded in an astronomical way.

Joe is the only person at Sojourners who wrote a master's thesis titled "Some Characteristics of Multiple-tornado-producing Thunderstorms in Missouri from 1964 to 1968." His love for storms and stars and all things atmospheric is well-known around the community.

Last July, while celebrating his birthday at our favorite Mexican restaurant, Jim and I asked Joe what his hopes for the next year were. Joe's eyes lit up as he said he wanted a telescope -- a great big one with which he could see quasars and planets and nebulae.

On our salaries, such possessions are as out of reach as the stars, but Joe was determined to save, little by little by little, until some day he might have the telescope of his dreams. (The last one he had was a little two-and-a-half-inch refractor his parents gave to him when he was 9; he took it apart to clean it one day and never could get it back together again.)

As we left the restaurant, Jim and I looked at each other and, without speaking a word, knew exactly what we were going to do. The letter went out, and the money began to pour in, $5 here and $10 there. Friends and family near and far -- as far away as Australia, Thailand, Honduras, and the Solomon Islands -- responded generously to our invitation to give Joe the surprise of his life.

A FEW DAYS BEFORE Christmas, Barb and Jim Tamialis had Joe, Jim, and me over for dinner at their home. Outside, every friend of Joe's within a hundred miles was gathering on the porch. As dinner ended, they came in an endless stream into the dining room, singing Christmas carols. Barb acted surprised, and Joe said, "It looks like the whole community decided to go Christmas caroling and didn't invite us."

Sojourners art director Ed Spivey began, "We all know why we're here. We're here to play ..." and the entire room shouted in unison, "Wheel ... of ... Fortune!" Ed picked Dolly Arroyo, Joe Roos, and Joe Lynch as the contestants. Dressed in my best Goodwill-thrift-store attempt at a Vanna White imitation, I handed out pieces of cardboard with letters on back to friends spread out in front of the contestants.

Dolly and Joe L. had been coached not to guess any of the correct letters in the phrase "A TELESCOPE FOR JOE." They offered in turn "X," "Q," "Z," and "Y." Joe Roos guessed "B," "G," "W," and "M." It was a long night, folks. But finally Joe got on track, and "A TELESCOPE FOR _OE" had been revealed. He still didn't get it, explaining later that the people holding the "R" and the "0" were so close together that he thought "FOR__OE" was a six-letter word.

When the full phrase was finally obvious, Joe looked more mystified than ever. While Ed explained all the features of his prize, Linda DeGraf came forward with a cardboard telescope she had made; when held to the light, "Merry Christmas, Joe" could be read through the end. Joe was by this time utterly confused.

Jim then stepped forward and said, "That telescope is nice, but I don't think you're going to be able to see much with it, Joe. Maybe this will help." He handed Joe an envelope with a card handmade by Trish Stefanik that read "When you wish upon a star ... dreams really do come true." Inside were written the names of all the contributors to Joe's dream -- and a check for a thousand dollars.

Joe was speechless, and there wasn't a dry eye in the house. We stayed around quite a while applauding and laughing and telling stories about how we kept it all a secret from Joe -- and hearing about all the quasars and planets and nebulae he would be able to see with his new telescope.

The story got circulated far and wide in the weeks following. Two weeks ago, during a phone conversation, a Sojourners subscriber and generous financial supporter told Jim that he had invented a star chart now at the Smithsonian Institution. Jim told him the story of the telescope, and Joe received a copy of the star chart and other helpful information from the astronomer subscriber.

Yesterday a high-resolution, motor-driven, 8-inch diameter, catadioptric telescope with equatorial fork mount and tripod arrived at the Sojourners office. Joe was like a child on Christmas morning.

As I write this, we are experiencing in Washington nighttime temperatures hitting zero. Joe is determined nonetheless to take his telescope to the mountains at the earliest possibility; the rest of us will wait a few weeks before celebrating with him on the mountaintops. Surely the psalmist must have foreseen this moment when he said, "Let the heavens be glad, and let the earth rejoice!"

Joyce Hollyday was associate editor of Sojourners when this article appeared.