by Al Lacy
At Montgomery Village, Maryland, a new family moved into town in May of that year. John and Betty Moore and their twelve-year-old daughter, Brenda, were devoted Christians and quickly became active in the Montgomery Village church. Jessica Smith and Brenda Moore became friends, and as time passed they grew closer and closer, each calling the other her best friend.
Jessica and Brenda graduated from high school in May 1871, and the following month Jessica turned eighteen. She had blossomed into a lovely young woman.
Jessica had told her best friend about Josh Cornell and the torch she’d carried for him when she was a young girl. She often thought about Josh, but she had no idea where he was. A couple of years after their correspondence dwindled and finally ceased, she had written Josh a letter. It was returned “addressee no longer at Fort Union.”
One day in July, Jessica carried a glass of lemonade from the kitchen into her parents’ bedroom. Carrie was dressed but was lying on the bed. She smiled at her daughter and sat up. “Thank you, honey. It is a rather hot day, isn’t it?”
“Yes, and I think you should stay down for a while yet, Mama. Don’t want you to overdo.”
Carrie took a sip of the cool lemonade. “I can’t just lie around all the time, Jessica. Even the doctor said I have to stay as active as possible.”
“I know how you feel, Mama, but I don’t want you trying to do the washing and ironing. I’ll take care of it. I’ll stay out of your way when it comes to the cooking, though. I know your favorite thing is to cook for us.”
Carrie took another sip of lemonade and smiled. “No mother ever had a better daughter than you, honey.”
Jessica’s dark brown eyes glinted with humor as she said, “You’d get some argument on that if other mothers heard you say it.”
There was a knock at the front door.
“That will be Brenda. Why don’t you lie down, Mama?”
“I’d rather sit up in my chair,” said Carrie, slipping off the bed.
Jessica helped her mother from the bed to the overstuffed chair by the window, then hurried to the front of the house and opened the door.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Brenda. I was occupied with Mama. She’s sitting in her room right now.”
Brenda Moore smiled as she stepped inside. “How’s your mother doing?”
“Better than last week. She’s been up and dressed every day. Dr. Westland says patients with low-grade consumption should try to live as normally as possible. They just can’t do all the things they would like to. If I’d let her, she’d still be doing the housecleaning, washing, and ironing.”
Jessica noticed that Brenda was holding a portion of the Baltimore Press opened to the classified section. “Looking for a job?”
“No … a husband.”
“A what?”
As they drew near the master bedroom, Brenda said, “I’ll tell you about it after we stop in here. I want to say hello to your mother.”
Carrie smiled and greeted Brenda as the two young women entered her room.
“Hello, Mrs. Smith. I’m glad to see you sitting up. Jessica says you’re feeling better than last week.”
“Much better.”
“I’m so glad. Our family prays for you every day.”
“I appreciate that.”
“Mom said to tell you she’s coming to see you tomorrow.”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
A few minutes later, the two young women entered Jessica’s bright, sunlit room.
“All right, Miss Smarty,” Jessica said. “What’s this husband business?”
Brenda laughed. “Well, you asked me if I was looking for a job, and I told you I was looking for a husband. You think I’m kidding, but I’m not. Haven’t we both been afraid we might end up as old maids?”
“Well, sort of, but—”
“I want to show you something.”
Brenda unfolded the paper and pointed to a column headlined:
MAIL ORDER BRIDES WANTED
“Look at this,” she said, running her finger down the page and stopping at an ad marked with an X.
“Brenda, don’t tell me you’re serious! You’re not really thinking of answering one of those ads?”
“This ad was put in here by a twenty-three-year-old man who lives in Carson City, Nevada Territory. He’s done well in gold mining and wants to get married.”
“You can’t just pack up and go out there and marry a man you don’t even know! Why, he’s probably a hard drinker like all the other men out there in those goldfields, and—”
“Wait a minute. Let me finish. This man’s name is Gil Simmons. He gives a clear testimony right here of being a Christian, and is looking for a Christian wife who lives for Jesus.”
“Brenda! You’re not going to write him, are you?”
“Well, I’m seriously considering it. I’ve always had a fascination for the West. You’ve told me so much about New Mexico and how you would like to go back there, or maybe somewhere else in the West someday.”
“All right, but not this way. You’ve never laid eyes on this Gil Simmons. How do you know what he’s really like? You can’t just pack up and—”
“Jessica!” said Brenda, throwing up her hands. “I’ve prayed about this. And I—”
“You couldn’t have prayed about it very much. That’s yesterday’s paper. Brenda, you’re playing with fire! I can’t stand by and let you throw yourself away on a man you’ve never met.”
Brenda laughed. “I love you for hovering over me like a mother hen, but let me explain what’s on my mind.”
“All right. I’m listening.”
“I’ve prayed about this, and I feel the Lord would have me write to Gil Simmons and ask more about him. I’ll put some tough questions in the letter and see how he answers.”
Jessica shook her head. “I couldn’t do it. I could never be a mail order bride. You go slow with this thing. Talk to your parents about it.”
“I did. Last night. I showed them the ad and told them I had prayed over it and that I felt I should write and get more information about this man.”
“And they said …?”
“Papa said it can’t hurt to write and find out more about him. Mama agreed. So that’s what I’m going to do.”
Jessica sighed. “Brenda, I know it’s not pleasant to think that you might end up an old maid, but marrying the wrong man is worse than not being married at all.”
“I know that. And I’m going to approach this very slowly. Mama and Papa will be with me all along, and if the Lord is in it, we’ll know it.”
Suppertime in the Smith home was always a lighthearted time. Carrie was an excellent cook. She thoroughly enjoyed preparing the food and gathering her family together around a meal after a long day apart.
As soon as Grant offered prayer over the food, Daniel and David began bombarding their father with questions that only lively teenage boys could come up with. Grant sent a smile to Carrie and patiently answered the boys’ questions while he filled their plates. As soon as their food was before them, Daniel and David began wolfing down their supper.
“Really, boys,” Jessica said, “you act like you’re starving.”
“It’s not that,” Daniel said. “It’s just that Mama’s cooking is so good!”
“Yeah!” David said. “When I grow up, I’m gonna marry a girl just like Mama, so all the rest of my life I can enjoy good cookin’!”
Carrie gave a smile and shrugged her shoulders. “What can I say?”
While the boys returned their attention to supper, Carrie said to Grant, “Darling, how were things at work today?”
“Quite satisfying. I was able to work out loans for two families who want to start businesses in Germantown. One is a dry goods company and the other is a hotel. Both are needed, and I believe they’ll do well. They’ll also make good accounts for the bank when they get on their feet.”
“Wonderful. I know it has to give you a great deal of pleasure to help people lik
e that.”
“It does. I have to admit I still miss the military at times, but I praise the Lord for giving me a job I enjoy and one that’s fulfilling for me.”
“God has been so good to us,” Carrie said.
Jessica glanced at her father. “Brenda was here today, Daddy.”
Daniel handed Grant his empty plate and smiled contentedly as his dad gave him second helpings.
“She said Betty’s coming to see me tomorrow,” Carrie said.
“That’s good. You two always have a good time together.” He turned to Jessica. “Something special you were going to tell me about Brenda’s visit today?”
Grant loaded David’s plate, too, and handed it to him.
“Yes. I didn’t tell Mama about it after Brenda left because I wanted to talk to both of you at the same time.”
“What is it, dear?” Carrie asked.
Jessica laid her fork down and cleared her throat. “Well … you and Daddy know that when a woman reaches eighteen—as Brenda and I have—and she doesn’t have any prospects for marriage, she begins to fear that she might become an old maid.”
Grant let out a low chuckle. “What did I tell you just the other night, Carrie?”
“Daddy and I have actually been talking about this,” Carrie said. “We’re glad you’ve kept your head, honey, and haven’t jumped at some of the young men you’ve dated when they have brought up marriage. Better by far to let the Lord bring that certain young man into your life in His own time and His own way. So … what about Brenda?”
“She’s got me worried.”
“How’s that?”
“She’s … well, she’s looking into becoming a mail order bride.”
“A what?” Daniel said. “Brenda’s gonna mail herself to some guy and marry him?”
“Not quite, son,” Grant said. “Let’s hear about it, Jessica.”
“When she came to see me today, she had the classified advertisement section of yesterday’s Baltimore Press with her. They have that column where men out west advertise for women to come and marry them.
“Well, Brenda showed me an ad from a man who lives in Nevada. He said in the ad that he’s a Christian and wants a wife who’s devoted to Jesus. He said he’s done well in gold mining and can provide well for his mail order bride.”
“And Brenda is going to reply to the ad?” Carrie asked.
“She says she’ll throw some tough questions at him in her letter and see how he answers. She wants to make sure he’s a genuine child of God.”
Grant shook his head. “She’s being awfully foolish.”
“That’s how I feel, Daddy. I told her I could never bring myself to become a mail order bride. But she says she’s prayed about it and believes she should reply. Her parents say it can’t hurt to write the man and ask for more information about him.”
“Downright foolish,” Grant said. “She shouldn’t jump the gun and get ahead of God. Seems to me the Lord has some young man in Maryland for Brenda to marry. She’d better be very careful.”
“That’s what I told her, Daddy.”
“I agree she should be careful,” Carrie said, “but on the other hand, I don’t think we should limit God. He, of course, will not go against His Word and lead a child of His to marry an unsaved person, but who’s to say the Lord couldn’t bring Christians together through the mail?”
Grant frowned and shook his head.
“Nobody asked me, but I think Mama’s right,” Daniel said. “I think it’d be neat to have the Lord bring a couple together through the mail.”
“Be different, anyhow,” David said. “God could do it that way, couldn’t He, Dad?”
“Well, son, I can’t argue that He could. It would be quite rare, but like your mother said, we can’t limit God. I just hope that if Brenda goes ahead with this, she does it slowly, carefully, and with a lot of prayer.”
“I’m sure that will be her intention, Daddy,” Jessica said, “but I hope her fear of becoming an old maid won’t cause her to make a big mistake. I love Brenda so much, and I don’t want to see her mess up her life.”
“We’ll have to pray for her,” Carrie said. She lifted a hand to her brow and pressed her fingertips to her temple.
“Sweetheart, are you all right?” Grant said.
“I … I feel a bit tired.”
Jessica shoved her chair back and said, “Mama, you go sit with Daddy in the parlor and rest. I’ll take care of the table and clean up the kitchen.”
“The boys can help you,” Grant said.
“It’s all right, Daddy. It’s bath night for my darling brothers, and I wouldn’t want them to miss that. I’ll take care of cleaning up.”
Carrie smiled at her daughter. “Thank you, Jessica. I’ll take you up on it. Just for tonight, you understand.”
“We’ll see,” Jessica said as she kissed her mother’s cheek.
Jessica watched her mother as her father helped her to the parlor; she sent a prayer toward heaven for her mother’s recovery.
The next afternoon, Brenda accompanied her mother when she came to visit Carrie. While the mothers sat in the parlor and talked, the daughters went to Jessica’s room.
“I did it, Jessica! I wrote the letter to Gil Simmons last night and mailed it this morning. It’ll take at least a week to get to him, and if he responds, another week for me to hear back.”
“I’m glad you said, ‘If he responds.’ He may receive lots of letters and pick out his bride before he even gets your letter.”
“Yes, I’m prepared for that. I only want God’s will in my life. I want the man He has chosen for me.”
Jessica embraced her friend. “I love you, Brenda, and I’ve been praying you won’t allow your fear of becoming an old maid to cloud your judgment. The Lord has His plan for both of our lives, and we must be patient and let Him work it out.”
Brenda gave her friend a squeeze, then said, “I’m going to visit my Aunt Bertha over in Fairfax, Virginia, for a few days. She’s my mother’s older sister. Great Christian lady. Her husband died a few years back, and their only child died at age two.”
“I’m glad she has you to help relieve some of the loneliness once in a while. How soon are you going?”
“Tomorrow. Would you like to go with me? I’ve told Aunt Bertha about you many times. When we wired back and forth about this visit, she said to tell you to come with me if you can.”
“Oh, I’d love to go. But I can’t leave Mama with the housework.”
Brenda let a sly grin curve her mouth. “That’s all taken care of.”
“What?”
“Mom said that if you wanted to go, she would come over and take care of things over here.”
“Oh, I can’t ask her to do that.”
“You don’t have to. Mom’s already volunteered. How about it? We won’t stay more than four or five days, and we’d have a great time.”
“Well, all right then.”
It was early afternoon the next day when Brenda and Jessica alighted from the surrey they’d hired at the Fairfax depot to bring them to Aunt Bertha’s house. The adorable white clapboard with bright, shiny green shutters sat in the middle of a garden of jewel-colored flowers. Through each gleaming window, white lace curtains moved gently in the breeze.
Before the girls reached the front steps, the door opened and a smiling little lady who stood barely five feet tall stepped onto the porch. “Brenda! It’s wonderful to see you!”
Brenda embraced her aunt, then introduced her best friend. Bertha gave Jessica a hug, and the girl inhaled the sweet scent of lavender.
Aunt Bertha had the kindest eyes Jessica had ever seen. They sparkled with merriment and were set in a round face of soft, milky skin and apricot-hued cheeks. She wore her snow white hair in a single long braid coiled at the back of her head.
“Well, come on in, young ladies,” Bertha said, opening the door wide.
Jessica followed Brenda to the rear of the house and entered a tiny, immacula
te bedroom decorated with frilly things. There were shelves lined with trinkets and figurines.
“You girls unpack, then come to the kitchen. I’ll have some refreshments for you.”
Jessica sent an inquiring glance to her friend.
Brenda giggled. “Might as well get used to it, Jess. Aunt Bertha will try to fatten us up while we’re here.”
In the days that followed, Bertha was seldom still. She bustled from one thing to another, making sure her young guests were comfortable.
On Sunday morning, the girls rose extra early and dressed with special care for the church services. They insisted on helping Aunt Bertha with breakfast, and soon the three of them sat down to fried ham and eggs with hot biscuits and honey.
When they had eaten their fill, the girls washed and dried the dishes while Bertha started preparations for Sunday dinner. She wanted as much done as possible before they went to church.
While the cleanup was being done, Jessica watched Bertha, who was a lively bundle of energy. Jessica couldn’t help but think of her mother and how much her illness had slowed her in the past several months. Determined to let nothing mar this pleasant day, Jessica dispelled the small frown from between her eyebrows and turned a sunny smile toward Aunt Bertha, saying, “Looks like Sunday dinner is going to be real good!”
The church was only a short distance from Aunt Bertha’s house, and as the three women walked along, Brenda said, “I’ve told Jessica about Pastor Wilkins, Aunt Bertha. She’s really looking forward to hearing him preach.”
“She’ll have to wait till tonight. We’re having a guest speaker this morning.”
“Oh, really? Who is it?”
“I can’t recall. Pastor told us last Sunday, but I’m terrible at remembering names. Anyway, he’s a young man who just graduated from Arlington Seminary. He was valedictorian of his class at graduation in May, and Pastor said he’s quite the preacher. I’m sure we’ll enjoy his message.”
After Sunday school, Bertha led the way to her favorite pew, five rows from the front and directly in line with the pulpit. The piano and pump organ were playing a lilting gospel song.
