by Al Lacy
The next day as Lydia and Billy walked to school, orioles chirped in the trees, their orange and black feathers glistening in the dappled sunlight. At the first corner, they met up with Angela Dunne and her little brother, Gregory.
“Have you two heard about the new family that moved in on Mulberry Street yesterday?” Angela said. “You know, where Mr. and Mrs. Bangston used to live?”
Lydia shook her head.
“Well, Papa met them yesterday afternoon. Their last name is Lannon, and they’re Christians. They told him they’d be coming to our church.”
“That’s nice,” Lydia said. “Do they have any kids?”
“Papa said they have one daughter. She’s sixteen.”
“Do you know her name?”
“No. I don’t think they told Papa what it is. But she’ll probably be at school today.”
At the Montgomery Village school, grades seven through twelve began each Monday in assembly, where principal Henry Wilkins talked to the students on different subjects. Sometimes he would bring in a special speaker.
When Lydia and Angela entered the small auditorium, Angela went to sit with the tenth-graders, and Lydia moved to the section reserved for ninth-graders. As she greeted friends, her eyes strayed to the eleventh-grade section. Grant was talking to another boy, but his gaze was on Lydia. He smiled when their eyes met, and Lydia smiled back.
The buzzing of voices faded to silence when Henry Wilkins appeared from a side door and mounted the platform. Wilkins, who was small and thin with a bird-beak nose, smiled as he stepped to the center of the rostrum and said, “Good morning!”
Teachers and students returned the greeting in unison.
“We have a new student in our school,” Wilkins said, still smiling. “She’s starting today, and I want to introduce her to all of you.”
Principal Wilkins gestured toward the eleventh-grade section and said, “Veronica, will you stand, please?”
There was an undercurrent of admiring male voices as the girl stood. Her golden hair was long and shiny and lay in soft swirls on her shoulders.
“Students,” the principal said, “this young lady is Veronica Lannon. She and her parents moved here from Baltimore just yesterday. Her father is the new foreman at the lumber mill over by Clarksburg. I want all of you to be sure to introduce yourself to Veronica sometime during the day and make her feel welcome.”
Wilkins gave his usual thirty-minute talk, then dismissed the assembly. Since there was a fifteen-minute break before the first class, Lydia got in line to greet the new girl. She found that most of the welcome line ahead of her was made up of boys.
When Lydia finally reached Veronica, she smiled and said, “Hi. My name is Lydia Reynolds. Welcome to our town and our school.”
“Thank you, Lydia,” Veronica said. “I know I’m going to enjoy it here. Everyone seems so friendly.”
“I understand that you and your parents are Christians and will be attending the village church.”
“That’s right.”
“Well, my family and I are Christians, too, and we’re members of the church. We’ll be very glad to have you. Our pastor’s a wonderful man and an excellent preacher. I know you’ll like him.”
“I’m sure I will.”
Lydia glanced behind her and saw that the line had grown longer. “Guess I’d better move on. It was nice to meet you, Veronica.”
As Lydia walked away, she saw that Grant was farther back in the line with two of his friends. Moments later she looked on as Grant introduced himself to Veronica. A sharp pain lanced Lydia’s heart as she watched the conversation. She was sure Veronica was more friendly toward Grant than she had been with the other boys.
For the next two weeks, Veronica spent most of her free time at school talking to Grant. Lydia’s heart felt weighed down. She was sure Grant was falling for the pretty blonde.
On Friday, when school let out, Billy Reynolds found his sister in front of the schoolhouse waiting for him. He noticed her watching Grant and Veronica in conversation near the street.
“Ready to go, sis?”
Lydia pulled her gaze away from the couple and nodded silently. As they walked away, she cast a quick glance over her shoulder, then looked straight ahead.
“Something’s bothering you, sis,” Billy said. “Want to talk about it?”
“There’s nothing bothering me.”
“Come on, I know you pretty well. I can tell when you’re upset. And I think I know what it is.”
“No, you don’t.”
They walked swiftly and silently for almost a block. Then Billy blurted out, “It’s Veronica, isn’t it?”
Lydia’s lips began to quiver, and she averted her eyes. “Billy, you don’t know everything.”
“I may not be real smart, but I’m not blind. Ever since Veronica came, Grant’s been talking to her a lot. It’s eating you up, isn’t it?”
They were near the Reynoldses’ front yard.
“Okay, Billy, okay, so I’m jealous. Shouldn’t I be? Grant is spending a lot of time with that … that girl.”
“He still talks to you, doesn’t he?”
“Well, yes. But not nearly as much as he talks to her.”
They were at the front porch.
“Billy … don’t say anything to Mother and Daddy about this, okay?”
“I won’t.”
Beverly found Lydia preoccupied while they were cooking supper together, but she didn’t pry. When the family sat down to eat, Lydia tried to smile and be herself but without much success.
After praying over the food, Duane kept glancing at his daughter. Finally he said, “Lydia, honey, something’s bothering you, isn’t it?”
“It’s nothing important, Daddy.”
Duane glanced at Billy, who was busy eating and kept his eyes on his food. “If it’s nothing important, why does it show so plainly on your face?”
Sudden tears filmed the girl’s eyes, and she laid her fork down. “Daddy, you met the Lannons at church on Sunday.”
“Yes …”
“You saw how pretty Veronica is.”
“Well, I guess you could say she’s pretty. Why?”
“Grant seems to think she’s pretty. He’s spending a lot of time with her.”
Duane and Beverly exchanged glances, then Duane said, “Honey, you’re too young to set your heart on any young man. You’re only fourteen.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“You mustn’t expect Grant to ignore girls his age simply because you have a crush on him. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Lydia sniffed again. “Yes.”
“And honey, even when the time comes that you’re old enough to set your heart on someone, you must be careful that the young man you choose is not only a Christian, but a dedicated one.”
Lydia brushed tears from her cheeks. “You mean I should choose a young man like Grant, don’t you, Daddy?”
Duane smiled. “Yes, honey. You should choose a young man like Grant.”
That night in her darkened bedroom, Lydia prayed, “Dear Lord, I really need to talk to You. Daddy said that the young man I choose should be like Grant Smith. I have nothing against Veronica, and I don’t wish her any heartache, but Lord, I’ve known Grant a lot longer than she has. There are lots of boys for her to choose from. I’m asking You from the bottom of my heart, please make it so the young man for my life is not like Grant Smith. I want him to be Grant Smith!”
THE SCHOOL YEAR WAS OVER the last week of May, and spring soon turned into summer. Grant Smith had worked the previous summer on a farm near Gaithersburg. The farmer had liked his work so well that he offered him a job again for this summer.
The job kept Grant busy five days a week, and he saw Lydia only on Sundays except for a chance meeting now and then on a Saturday. Yet a Saturday hardly went by without his running into Veronica. He had an idea that she planned those meetings somehow.
On the last Sunday in June, people stood around chatting
outside the church building after the morning service. The teenagers were clustered together, laughing and having a good time. Grant was talking to his closest friends, Roy McNay and Orval Proctor, who were telling him they planned to be carpenters once they got out of high school.
Grant nodded. “That’s an admirable plan. We need carpenters, that’s for sure.”
“So what about you?” Roy asked. “What are your plans for the future?”
“I’m thinking seriously about a military career. I have an uncle who’s in the army, and he’s talked to me about it. He went to West Point, and now he’s a major at a fort in North Carolina. I’m praying about going to West Point myself.”
“Well, if you can handle four years of tough academics and hard work, that’s the way to go,” Orval said. “That way, when you go into the army, you’re an officer.”
“You’d be commissioned a lieutenant, wouldn’t you, Grant?” Roy asked.
Grant noticed Lydia was watching him as she stood with a couple of her friends. He smiled at her and was about to answer Roy’s question when he saw Veronica coming his way. But she just scowled at him, stuck her nose in the air, and passed on by.
“Whooey!” Orval said. “What did you do to deserve that, Grant?”
“Must’ve been pretty bad,” Roy said, chuckling. “What did you do?”
“Long story. Wouldn’t interest you.”
“From what I’ve noticed,” Orval said, “Veronica’s had a heavy crush on you, ol’ pal. Messed it up, eh? Now maybe some of the rest of us will have a chance with her.”
“Veronica’s a nice girl, but I’ve got someone else—”
Roy snorted his surprise. “You’ve what? Someone else, you say? And who might that be?”
“Military secret, boys. It’s not for public knowledge right now.”
Roy and Orval laughed, then began walking away to join their families. Grant turned to leave and saw Lydia standing alone, watching him. He smiled at her and headed her way.
“Hi, Lydia. Some sermon this morning, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, very good,” she said, giving him her best smile.
“Warm day, isn’t it?”
Lydia chuckled. “Didn’t look too warm a few minutes ago when Veronica walked past you. Kind of cool, I’d say.”
“You noticed, huh?”
“As did several people, I’m sure. Has something … has something happened to your friendship with her?”
“I guess you could say that. Veronica’s been trying to get something serious started between us, and just yesterday I told her I wasn’t interested in her in that way. I just want to be friends.”
“Well, Grant, Veronica’s a very pretty girl. She won’t have any trouble finding plenty of male company. Of course … all the girls who are interested in you are pretty.”
“I doubt there are all that many girls interested in me. I just know that Veronica’s not the type of girl I’m interested in.”
Lydia’s heart was in her throat as she said, “What type of girl are you interested in, Grant?”
“Oh, well, I suppose I’m interested in … in a girl of your type, Lydia.”
“I take that as a compliment, Grant.”
“I meant it that way.”
“Lydia!” came a familiar voice from near the parking lot. Billy was standing by the family buggy, and Duane and Beverly were already aboard and ready to leave. “Time to go!” Billy called.
Lydia gave him a tiny wave, then turned to Grant and said, “See you in the service tonight?”
“I’ll be there.”
Marjorie Smith tapped on Grant’s bedroom door one Saturday morning in early August.
“Come in,” Grant called. “Oh, hi, Mom. Need me for something?”
“I just need to talk to you for a couple of minutes about your birthday party. You’re birthday’s only a week away, you know.”
“You really don’t have to go to all that trouble just for me.”
Marjorie put her arms around him. “What do you mean, ‘just for me’? You’re my only son, aren’t you?”
“Well, yes.”
“Then let your mother give you a party. What I need to ask you is, do you want Roy and Orval and their parents to come?”
“That would be great.”
“We can have one other family. Who would you like to invite?”
“The Reynolds family.”
“All right. The McNays, the Proctors, and the Reynoldses it will be.”
The guests arrived at six o’clock the day of the party. Though Marjorie had been busy with preparations since sunup, her face was glowing as she greeted everyone then ushered them to the backyard, where a table groaned under all the food Marjorie and the girls had spent the day preparing.
Grant glanced at the place cards on the table and was pleased that Lydia would be seated directly across from him.
It was a lively group that sat down at the table to enjoy the feast. Roy and Orval were seated on each side of Grant, and though he talked to them throughout the meal, his eyes kept wandering to the girl across from him.
When the meal was over, Scott Smith rose to his feet and said, “All right, folks, it’s time for Grant to open all those nice presents you brought. Roy and Orval, would you mind bringing them out here?”
The young men brought the presents to the table, and a place was cleared in front of Grant. When he opened each present, there were oohs! and ahs! and Grant made sure the givers knew he appreciated their kindness and generosity.
Grant opened Lydia’s present last, and she watched eagerly as he broke the ribbon and tore the paper loose. It was a Bible with a black leather cover.
“Thank you, Lydia. It’s the most beautiful Bible I’ve ever seen.”
“You’re very welcome, Grant. There’s … ah … something on the flyleaf.”
Grant felt a lump in his throat as he read her beautifully inscribed words:
To Grant, whom I deeply admire.
May this Bible be a lamp unto your feet
and a light unto your path.
Your friend forever,
Lydia
Marjorie suddenly jumped up from the table and beckoned to her daughters, telling the others that she and the girls would return shortly.
Grant leaned across the table. “Lydia, let’s take a little walk around the yard.”
“All right.”
When they were out of earshot from the others, Grant stopped and said, “I don’t know how to thank you for that beautiful Bible, Lydia.”
“Knowing that you like it is enough thanks for me.”
“I’ll always treasure it. This is the best birthday I’ve ever had.”
“Seventeen. Do you realize that makes you three years older than me?”
“Not really. It only sounds that way. In fact, it doesn’t even seem that we’re twenty-five months apart in age, Lydia, because you are so mature.”
“Time for birthday cake, everybody!” Marjorie called from the back porch.
She moved down the steps, carrying a large chocolate cake. It was covered with fluffy white frosting and had seventeen candles burning brightly. Sharon and Theresa followed their mother, carrying pitchers of iced tea and lemonade.
Grant and Lydia joined the others as Marjorie placed the cake on the table, and Scott led the group in singing “Happy Birthday.”
When the song ended, Grant leaned over the cake, then glanced at Lydia before he blew out all the candles with one gust of wind.
“What did you wish for, Grant?” Theresa asked as everyone applauded.
“If I tell you it won’t come true.”
Everyone ate their fill of cake, then the ladies and girls cleared away the dessert dishes and carried them inside the house. In the kitchen, they all offered to help with cleanup, but Marjorie gently shooed them outside into the cool of the evening.
They all continued to visit for a while over iced tea and lemonade; then gradually the guests began to say their good-byes.
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Grant quietly thanked Lydia again for his new Bible, and when everyone was gone, he expressed his appreciation to his family for making his birthday such a wonderful day.
The following Sunday morning at church, Veronica Lannon sat next to a young man named Luke Denton. Luke was well liked in the community, and Lydia was glad to see them sitting together. Grant talked to Lydia both before and after the service and continued to do so in the weeks that followed. Although Lydia didn’t understand why she was getting the added attention, she was glad for it.
School started on Monday, September 6. The following Friday was Lydia’s birthday. Beverly had a party planned, which would be preceded by a hearty meal. In accordance with her daughter’s wishes, Beverly invited the Smith family along with two families whose teenage daughters were Lydia’s closest friends.
Lydia awakened on her fifteenth birthday with an excited flutter in her stomach. “Good morning, Lord. Thank You for fifteen years in this world and for another day to walk with You.”
She quickly threw off the covers and began to get ready for school. She must get her morning chores done, even on her birthday!
The day dragged by, but the last bell finally rang. After chatting a few minutes with Grant, Lydia and Billy hurried home to help her mother with preparations for the dinner and the party.
When all was ready, Lydia rushed upstairs to splash cold water on her face and redo her hair, pulling it up on both sides and securing it with a silver barrette. She fluffed her bangs with her fingers. She went to her closet and took out the dark blue dress with the wide white lace collar her mother had made for her in August. It was her very first “grown-up” dress.
She gave herself one last look in the mirror and thought, Maybe Grant will notice that I really am growing up. She gave herself an impish grin, then hurried from her room and fairly skipped down the stairs.
In the kitchen, she went to her mother and kissed her on the cheek, thanking her for this most important dinner and party.
Lydia’s girlfriends and their families arrived first, and she met them at the door, welcoming them warmly. Moments later there was another knock, and Lydia rushed to greet her guests. In chorus, the Smiths wished her happy birthday. Grant complimented her on the beautiful dress, which brought a thank-you and a wide smile.
