The Measure of a Heart

by Janette Oke

  “Isn’t she home?” Austin asked her.

  Anna nodded her head, tears tracing little streams down her cheeks. She lifted a hand to wipe them away.

  “What is it?’ he asked, reaching out to take her hand.

  “She—she asked me to leave her a moment—with—with Maggie. Oh, Austin, she is in there crying her heart out. I never should have come. I should have thought. The pain is still too fresh—too deep—for her to look at another baby.”

  Anna buried her face against her husband’s shoulder and shook with her sobs.

  He let her cry, patting her shoulder, squeezing her arm. When she was finished, she stepped back and looked up at him.

  “I’m so sorry. I suppose they’ll never come to church now. It’s all my fault.”

  “Nonsense,” said Austin, offering his handkerchief. “If they don’t come to church, it has nothing to do with this. You’ve offered your love and friendship over and over, in every way you have known how.”

  He waited for her to wipe her nose.

  “One never knows how a person will respond in grief—or what will bring healing. Perhaps baby Maggie is a better counselor than either of us could ever be.”

  Anna looked up at him, her eyes wide.

  “Holding that little bundle might be the best thing that could happen to Mrs. Lawes,” went on Austin. “There are more than one kind of tears. Let’s pray these are tears of healing.”

  They bowed their heads, standing together on the front walk, their hearts and hands twined closely. They had just said their “Amens” and Anna given her nose one more blow when they heard the door behind them open.

  Mandy Lawes was still clutching tightly to Maggie, but the tears had been wiped away.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, her lips still trembling. “Please come in. I—I think that I am ready for company now.”

  The Lawes joined the little congregation the next Sunday.

  “We have put it off for far too long,” said Cal. “These kids need some religious training.” And then he added, almost under his breath, “And we need some faith to live by.”

  One of the nice “extras” the new church offered was that they were able to make Austin an office in a small back room, and Anna was able to have her whole sitting room as living area. They needed the extra space. It was the only place that they could fit a small bed for Maggie.

  Anna couldn’t believe how quickly the baby grew. She was hard put to keep her in little garments. But each time the new mother was about to be smothered by desperation, there was another little miracle—and Maggie was clothed.

  Washings, though, were not easy for Anna. With so few clothes for the baby, she had to wash almost every day of the week. She kept a tub of water on hand behind the kitchen stove and washed diaper by diaper as they were used. Then she hung them on the line and prayed that one of them would be dry by the time she needed it.

  It was a difficult way to do her laundry, but Anna did not complain. She was thankful to have diapers at all.

  But her hands became red and her knuckles rough from her scrub board.

  I wish I had some lard to rub into them, she often thought and was glad she had gloves to wear on Sundays.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Another Summer

  When the noise from the play lot picked up in volume, Anna felt that summer had really arrived. Once school was out the children had more free time so made good use of the play area. Anna sometimes stood at her bedroom window and watched the sand-lot ball game.

  It was about a week into July before she realized that Ben Cross was missing. It was strange. Ben loved playing ball.

  She picked up young Maggie and made her way out to the playground.

  As soon as there was a break in the action, she motioned Tommy over.

  “Where is Ben?” she asked the boy.

  “He’s sick,” answered Tommy and was about to run back out on the field.

  “How sick?” called Anna.

  Tommy turned and flung back over his shoulder, “Don’t know. Haven’t seen ’im.”

  Anna scanned the field for Sid, Ben’s younger brother. He was playing right field.

  I’ll just wait and ask him, she thought and found a place to sit on a patch of grass.

  We should have checked on them, she scolded herself. Neither of them has been to Sunday school for several Sundays.

  But the boys’ attendance had always been sporadic at best. How would one guess that illness might be keeping them at home?

  When Sid came near to wait for his turn at bat, Anna called to him and he hastened to answer her bidding.

  “I hear your brother Ben is sick,” said Anna.

  He nodded, his tangled hair bouncing.

  “How long has he been ill?” she pressed him.

  “Long time,” he said with a shrug.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “We don’t know.”

  “Has the doctor seen him?”

  Sid shook his head. “Pa don’t put no stock in doctors,” he replied and Anna cringed.

  “Can you tell me a little bit about his illness?” asked Anna.

  Sid looked blank. “He’s just sick,” he answered.

  “Sick how? Does he have a rash? Is he vomiting? Does he have a fever?”

  Sid seemed to be thinking about it. “He don’t got a rash,” he answered. “An’ I don’t think he vomits. He just throws up and can’t eat.”

  Anna nodded, a smile curving her lips in spite of her concern.

  It was Sid’s turn to bat. Anna let the boy go. She hoisted Maggie onto her hip and started back to her kitchen.

  Once there she deposited the baby on the floor and began searching through her cupboards. There wasn’t much there. Maybe enough for a nourishing eggnog. She went to work.

  As soon as she had prepared the drink, she put her bonnet in place, tied a hat on small Maggie, and set out.

  It didn’t take long to reach the Crosses. Anna had never been there before. She worried about the dog as she neared the place. The animal had a reputation for meanness. Perhaps she should have left the baby with her father at the church study. But Mr. Cross was seated on the rickety porch and with one word from him, the growling dog lay back down.

  “I heard that Ben is sick,” Anna said before the man had a chance to ask her errand. The burly man just nodded. Anna’s eyes took in the sullen face, the arms and shoulders muscled from heavy work, the large calloused hands.

  Mr. Cross was known as the hardest worker in the town. He ran the local livery and cartage service—and drove his teams almost as hard as he drove himself. He was so busy “earning” and “squirreling it away” according to some that he had no time for friends or family. Anna marveled that she had found him on his front porch, seemingly doing nothing.

  “I’ve brought Ben a bit of eggnog,” she said simply. “Sid said that he has been having trouble eating.”

  The man nodded again.

  “May I see him?” Anna asked.

  “He’s in there,” the man nodded over his shoulder, and Anna accepted that as his permission.

  She moved toward the door and was about to enter when she thought of her baby girl. What if the illness was contagious? Surely she should have left Maggie with her father. Now what could she do?

  For one brief second she hesitated and then she surprised both herself and the man who sat before her. “Would you mind holding my baby?” she asked simply. “It might be wiser not to take her into the sickroom.”

  For a moment the man stared, his expression saying that no one had ever entrusted a baby to him before. Him with his work-dirtied hands and gruff manner. Him with his violent temper and foul mouth. What was she thinking of—passing the small child in her unrumpled, spotless dress to him?

  Dumbly he reached out his hands to accept the baby.

  “Thank you,” said Anna with a sweet smile and moved through the door with her container of eggnog.

  A woman rocked listlessly in
a corner. Anna could hear the low groan of the floor as the rocker moved slowly back and forth. On a cot against the wall lay Ben. Anna could hardly recognize the boy. His face was flushed, his eyes hollow, and he looked as if he had lost several pounds.

  “I heard that Ben is ill,” Anna said to the woman in explanation.

  The woman nodded. She looked fatigued.

  “I’ve brought some eggnog,” said Anna.

  The woman’s eyes showed surprise but she did not stir.

  “Do you have a cup?” asked Anna.

  Without a word the woman roused herself and went to the kitchen. She came back with a cup, wiping it on a tea towel as she came. Anna could read the words “Robin Hood” imprinted on the towel.

  Anna accepted the cup and knelt beside the sick boy. “Ben,” she coaxed him. “Ben. It’s Mrs. Barker. Can you hear me, Ben?”

  He stirred ever so slightly.

  “I’ve brought you something to drink,” went on Anna. “Can you try to swallow for me? Come on . . . just a little. Here, try a sip. Good boy. Another.”

  A tongue came out and licked the dry lips. Anna was encouraged. “Another,” she coaxed. “That’s good.”

  He wasn’t able to finish the drink but Anna was pleased with his attempt. The mother who hovered near her elbow spoke for the first time. “That’s the first he’s taken in two days.”

  “I’ll leave the rest,” said Anna. “You can try to give him a bit later on.”

  The woman nodded.

  “I’ll try to get some eggs and milk so I can bring more later. If we can just get him to take some nourishment . . .” Anna let the statement trail off.

  “Do you have a cloth and some cool water?” Anna continued, and the woman went back to her kitchen. A little later Anna heard the pump in the backyard.

  It wasn’t long until Mrs. Cross was back at Anna’s side. “Here,” she said as she passed Anna a piece of an old towel and a basin filled with the water.

  Anna took the rag and dipped it in the water. It was fresh and cool. She began to bath the face and arms of the young boy.

  “This will help to get his fever down,” she explained to the woman. “You can do this every hour or so. It will help him to feel better, too.”

  The mother nodded. Anna was sure that she had previously given up.

  Ben stirred as the cool cloth passed again and again over his fevered face.

  “There you are, Ben,” said Anna. “That should make you feel better,” and Anna dipped the cloth into the basin once more just as she heard giggles from the front porch. Apparently the big man was entertaining young Maggie.

  “You look tired,” said Anna, turning her attention to the woman.

  Mrs. Cross nodded. “It’s been almost a week of little sleep,” she admitted. “I’m almost done in.”

  “You should have asked for help,” said Anna softly.

  “We don’t have any family here,” replied the woman.

  “Well, neighbors would have—”

  “We’re not on friendly terms with the neighbors,” cut in the woman.

  “My husband or I will come tonight,” offered Anna, “so you folks can get a good sleep.”

  Surprise showed in the woman’s eyes. After a moment’s silence, she spoke. “You’re thet preacher’s wife, aren’t you?”

  Anna nodded. “We have been so happy to have your boys come to Sunday school now and then.”

  “They sneaked out to do it,” the woman replied, her voice dropping to a whisper. “We just figured they was off to play at first—then the truth came out. My man gave ’em a good thrashing when he found out.”

  Anna cringed. How cruel to treat young children in such a fashion. Especially when they had done no wrong. They had simply gone to Sunday school. And then she trembled. The child beater was holding her baby.

  She rose to her feet and turned to the door just as she heard young Maggie squeal and giggle again.

  “I must get home now.” She hesitated for one moment. “But I’ll be back,” she said. Her thoughts went further, And I’ll leave my baby with her father, but she did not say the words.

  But the scene on the front porch stopped her mid-stride. There was the big man, a satisfied grin on his bearded face, Maggie balanced carefully on one knee, while his free hand tossed a worn-out sock that the brute of a dog was racing to retrieve. And young Maggie’s arms were flailing, her eyes sparkling as she enthusiastically enjoyed the sport.

  Anna smiled and stepped out of the darkened room. She did not move to claim her daughter immediately. Instead, she leaned against a porch pillar, letting her eyes lift to the livery stables where horses milled in a fenced yard. Anna wondered if they had been fed. Mr. Cross was known to take better care of his teams than of his boys. They were his “bread and butter,” he said candidly.

  “Your son is very sick, isn’t he?” Anna commented with sympathy.

  The man shuffled little Maggie a bit closer in his lap but made no reply.

  “I know how worried I would be if it were my child,” Anna went on.

  She turned slightly to look at the man holding her baby. Maggie was reaching up a chubby hand to try to grasp a handful of beard.

  “He did drink the eggnog,” Anna said encouragingly. “I’ll bring him more later. If he can just keep it down—”

  She stopped her comment.

  The big dog approached the man and nuzzled his nose up against Maggie, who squealed with delight.

  So much for big bad dog, thought Anna, and smiled to herself.

  “I had heard he was vicious,” she said in good humor, indicating the dog who was allowing Maggie to pull his hair.

  “He can rip the leg off a mule,” replied the man matter-of-factly.

  “Then why—?” began Anna.

  The man shrugged. “Takes a pretty mean brute to resist a baby,” he admitted, and his voice was low and trembling.

  Anna stood without comment, blinking away tears that threatened to come. At last she straightened and moved toward the man and her child. She heard a growl deep in the throat of the dog, and the man spoke to him firmly.

  “Doesn’t realize she’s yours,” he apologized. “Already laid his claim on her.”

  “If I ever need a guard dog,” said Anna as she reached for Maggie, “I’ll know where to find him.”

  The big man couldn’t hide a bit of a grin.

  Anna continued to take eggnog, then soup and stew to the young boy. And Austin took his turn several nights staying with the Crosses so the family could get some sleep. The condition of the young boy slowly but gradually improved. And at last the day came when Ben was able to sit up on his own again.

  From then on he seemed to gain ground rapidly.

  “Before you know it, you’ll be out playing ball,” Austin teased one day as he and Anna stopped to see Ben.

  The boy grinned.

  Mrs. Cross came from the kitchen with a pitcher of lemonade. “First place he’s gonna go is to church,” she said with feeling.

  Austin and Anna exchanged brief glances. This was an unexpected change. Neither dared to make comment. Anna stole a quick glance in the direction of Mr. Cross to try to read his reaction.

  He was bouncing Maggie on his big knee. From the beginning he had claimed her as “his girl,” and she seemed to agree, grinning and clapping whenever they met.

  “Was a time I wouldn’t allow my boys to go to church,” he admitted without looking up.

  “Now you will?” prompted Austin.

  The big head came up and the man looked directly at the town minister. “Not without me,” he said simply.

  No one in the whole town would have guessed that Matt Cross would be the preacher’s first convert. Anna’s prayers had zeroed in on the gruff Mrs. Paxton and the Lawes family. Even on the hard-to-read Mr. Parks, who kept helping God with His little miracles, though he refused to darken the church door.

  It was true that Mrs. Paxton had softened over the months, but she still spoke gruffl
y, still scowled at the world, and still refused to attend services.

  “I gave you my building,” she said tartly, “but I didn’t say that I came with it.”

  Anna knew better than to press the issue. She continued to offer her time and friendship.

  The Lawes family were faithful in their attendance, but when Austin asked them if they wished to make a personal commitment to the faith, they stalled.

  “It isn’t that we are unbelievers,” argued Cal; “we just aren’t ready to take that step yet. I guess we’re both still hurting. Need time to heal. Still feelin’ a bit numb inside.”

  So Austin and Anna had waited and prayed, wondering just who would be the first to break the months of “drought” in their ministry.

  But never, never had either of them supposed that it might be the misfit at the edge of town.

  “God works in mysterious ways,” Anna quoted after the big man had knelt at the little church altar rail and sobbed as he asked the Lord to forgive his sin and cleanse his heart.

  It was an occasion for great rejoicing.

  The man had been known in the community for so long as a work-driven, money-grubbing individual. Because of his drive, he’d had time for no one. His only distraction seemed to be whiskey. He would be sober and hard working for months on end, then suddenly lay aside his self-assigned tasks and pick up a bottle. When he drank he was an entirely different man. His family tried to stay well out of his way, his wife suffering the most from his abuse. Even his vicious dog was afraid of him.

  And now the man had made the commitment of his life. He had become the first convert in the little village church.

  The next logical event, in Anna’s thinking, was for Mrs. Cross to join her husband in his commitment. But though Austin spoke to the woman and explained carefully how one accepted the wonderful gift of God’s forgiveness, she held back. She wanted her boys taught “religion.” She didn’t begrudge her husband his step of faith. But she would just wait and see.

  Anna was understanding. “She has lived with an angry, abusive man for so many years that I’m sure it must be hard for her to believe even the Lord can change him,” she said to Austin. “We’ll just have to allow her time for observation.”