by Janette Oke
Marty rose to her feet slowly because of her cumbersome body. She was dumbstruck. What could she ever say to this angry and agonizing girl? How could she make her see that God is love? That He gives it freely whether a person “deserves” it or not? How could she ever get her to understand that bitterness and hate against her father were not in keeping with God’s plan for her life—could not bring happiness or peace or anything good to anybody? Oh, poor Nandry, to have carried such a terrible burden for such a long, long time!
Marty moved to her and took her into her arms. As Marty raised her eyes, she beheld a stricken Ellie standing in silence at the kitchen door. Marty had not heard her return, and she was sure Nandry was not aware of her presence, either. Ellie stood with a white face and parted lips as though unable to comprehend. Marty wondered how long she had been standing there and how she would respond to what she had heard from the lips of her adopted older sister.
Then Ellie took a deep breath and moved into the room. She took Nandry’s hand and gently led her back to her chair. Nandry sat down again, physically and emotionally spent from her outburst. Ellie passed her a hankie and Nandry blew loudly.
Ellie waited for a moment and then spoke quietly. “Nandry,” she said, “I think I know how yer feelin’. At first, when I heard ’bout Pa, I wanted to fight it, too. I blamed God … a little bit. I blamed God fer spoilin’ a good man. You know what I thought? I thought thet I might not be proud to walk down the street in town with Pa anymore. Can you ’magine that? Feelin’ ashamed to be seen with a man like Pa simply because he had only one leg?” Ellie shook her head sadly, as if she felt guilty over ever having such a thought. “I always thought my pa ’bout perfect, an’ I was ’fraid I wouldn’t see ’im as perfect anymore. It would be embarrassin’. People would stare. I looked at the other men around. ‘He’s not as good as my pa,’ I’d think, ‘an’ he’s still got two legs.’ I knew it was wrong—I knew it all the time—an’ then God started talkin’ to me ’bout it. He pointed at my own life. I had pride, I had vanity; I even discovered some deceit. ‘See,’ said God, ‘yer not perfect. Is yer pa ashamed to walk down the street with you? He should be, iffen it’s perfection yer wantin’.’ I knew God was right. My cripplin’ was greater and more deadly than Pa’s. Mine was to the spirit; his was only the body. I prayed an’ asked God to fergive me an’ to help me grow from the experience of Pa losin’ his leg, so the price of it might be worth somethin’ in my life—both fer my gain an’ so thet Pa could remain proud of me.
“Now yer pa, Nandry, had ’im many faults.” Ellie’s voice was gentle. “What ya have said ’bout ’im is prob’ly right. I don’t know, I didn’t know ’im. But God must have seen someone worth savin’. An’ even iffen there wasn’t anything worthy at all, God still loved ’im. An’ Pa loved ’im. Loved ’im enough to want to make sure he had thet chance ’fore he died. Pa didn’t knowingly give his leg fer yer pa. But I think he would have—iffen he had had some way of knowin’, I think he would have. Because our pa knows thet a leg is less important than a soul.
“I think thet Pa would be hurt iffen he knew the loss of his leg somehow brought bitterness to yer soul, Nandry. He wants to strengthen ya an’ help ya to grow with every experience of his life, and iffen he doesn’t do thet, then it brings him pain and disappointment—far more pain than the loss of thet leg did.”
Nandry had been listening silently to Ellie. Marty sat praying—praying that God would give Ellie the right words to minister to the need of the young woman, praying that Nandry would be able to understand and accept the words.
Suddenly Nandry began to weep again, quiet weeping now. Ellie put her arms about her and let her cry. At last Nandry lifted her head.
“Yer right,” she said. “An’ I’ve been wrong. All these years I’ve been wrong. My pa wasn’t right in what he did, but that gave me no call to do wrong, too. I’m more guilty than ’im ’cause I know better. I shoulda been prayin’ fer ’im all those years. I know Clae was. Used to make me mad at her. ‘Let ’im git what he deserves,’ I’d think. Thet was wrong—so wrong.” And Nandry dropped her face in her hands and cried harder.
“Oh, Ellie,” wept Nandry, “can God ever fergive me?”
“Iffen He couldn’t,” said Ellie, “we’d all be in trouble.”
“Ma,” wept Nandry, seeming to suddenly realize that Marty still sat nearby, “would ya pray fer me?”
Marty did. Ellie followed with another prayer, and then Nandry cried out her own pleading for forgiveness. After the prayer time, they poured fresh coffee and shared further the truths they had learned.
Finally Nandry looked at the clock and declared that Josh would wonder what had happened to her, and besides, she was anxious to talk with him about what had happened this afternoon and the lifting of her burden.
Ellie put on her coat and went with her to get her team, and Marty stayed at the table rejoicing and doing some serious thinking.
Nandry had been wrong to bundle up all of her years of bitterness. She should have been able to trust God. She had been taught ever since she had been in the Davis home that God is God in all circumstances of our lives, and He loves His children. Nothing happens to those He loves that catches Him by surprise. He is always there to see one through the difficulty and to bear each person up on wings of love. Good can follow on the path of sorrow. All things can work for good to those who love Him.
Marty knew it all. She even believed it all. So why was she sitting at her kitchen table when just across the yard was her daughter-in-law who needed her? I don’t know what to say, pleaded Marty. I just don’t know what to say. I still have my baby. And, God, you know I want my baby. Is that selfish? Can I go to Kate, with me so obviously expecting my child, when she has just lost hers? Marty wept silent tears before the Lord.
Trust Me came a quiet voice, and Marty wiped her eyes on her apron and rose from her chair. She would take Kate the new shawl she had been knitting. Perhaps something new and bright would be welcomed by her on this dreary winter day.
Marty met Ellie at the door. “I’m goin’ to see Kate fer a few minutes,” she said.
“Oh, good,” responded Ellie. “Kate’s been so lonesome fer ya. But ya know Kate. She wouldn’t think of askin’ ya to come out in the cold.”
“She’s been wantin’ me?”
“Every day she mentions ya.”
“Why didn’t ya say so?”
“Kate asked me not to. She didn’t want ya to take any chances on harmin’ yer baby. She’s countin’ on yer little one more’n ever now, Mama.”
Marty turned to hurry on out, but she did slow down and carefully place her footsteps on the path. Her eyes stung with her unshed tears. How insensitive she had been.
Kate was at her door to welcome Marty. She must have seen her coming. She ushered her into the small kitchen and steadied her while Marty slipped out of her boots. Marty noticed that Kate was still quite pale.
“How are ya, Mama?” Kate asked anxiously.
Marty felt it was she who should be asking such a question. “I’m fine, dear. An’ you?”
Kate smiled. It was a courageous smile for one who had just experienced such sorrow.
“I’m fine, too … now. Would ya like a cup of tea?”
“I think not.”
“Coffee, then?”
“No. Truth is, we just finished havin’ coffee with Nandry.”
“Nandry was over … on such a cold day?”
“Guess she felt she needed it bad enough to come.”
“I didn’t notice her come in … but then, Ellie an’ me was talkin’ ’bout that time.”
Marty took a chair and produced the bright blue shawl. “Brought ya somethin’,” she said. “Thought ya might be needin’ somethin’ new to look at.”
Kate smiled. “It’s lovely, Mama. I love the color … but ya know thet blue is my favorite color, don’t ya?”
Yes, Marty had known.
Kate held the shawl, wrapping the long tass
els around and around her slim fingers.
“I shoulda been here afore,” Marty began slowly, “but …”
“It’s okay, Mama. Clare an’ I both know how much yer hurtin’ with us. I was just so ’fraid thet the grievin’ might cause harm to thet new brother or sister. Are ya sure yer okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Ya can still feel movement?”
“Oh yes. She’s a busy one.”
Kate smiled at the “she” and sighed with relief. “I didn’t think much ’bout it at the time, but thinkin’ back, I realize I hadn’t felt any movement fer a few days. I thought maybe my baby was just restin’ or thet I was just so used to it I didn’t notice or somethin’.”
“Ya think thet…?” Marty couldn’t voice the question.
Kate answered it anyway. “Doc said our little one died two or three days ’fore …”
Her voice trailed off, and Marty hurried to fill the space with words. “I’m so sorry, Kate.”
Kate blinked back tears. “I’m sorry, too, Mama. But Doc also said God sometimes uses thet way to care fer a baby thet has some … some kind of problem. I thought of Wanda, Mama. I know Wanda loves her Rett and thet she wouldn’t give him up fer the world, but I’m … I’m not sure I … I’m not sure I could take thet, Mama. Iffen our little girl was goin’ to be … not well … not whole … then I thank God He took her. Am I a coward to feel thet way?”
“A coward? No, Kate. Certainly not. I … I think there are harder things to face in life than … than death.”
“Clare an’ I talked ’bout it. At first it was so hard. We wanted our baby so much, an’ then Clare said, ‘Let’s just count the blessin’s outta all this.’ At first I couldn’t see ’em. Clare had to remind me. ‘We still have each other,’ he said. ‘An’ we are both still well an’ strong. The doctor says this isn’t likely to happen again, so we’ll be able to have more babies. We don’t have a child who is sickly, either in mind or in body. She will never suffer. She is safe in heaven, without even sufferin’ any of the pains of this earth.’ So, ya see, we do have lots to be thankful fer.”
Marty blinked back tears.
“We’ve grown through this, Mama. We’ve grown closer together. I’ve always loved Clare, but through this … I have learned what a wonderful, carin’, unselfish, and godly man I am married to. I not only love ’im, but I respect ’im as the spiritual leader of our home.”
Marty reached out and took the younger woman’s hand.
“An’ we’ve learned more, too, Mama. We’ve experienced firsthand that all those things we’ve been taught concernin’ God through the years are true. He is there when ya need ’im, helpin’ ya through the difficult places, easin’ yer hurt. We’ve felt the prayers of family and friends, too. Never have I felt so … so … loved and sorta protected as I have in these last difficult days.”
Marty fumbled for her handkerchief. Here she had come to minister to Kate, and instead Kate was ministering to her.
“Clare said we might go up fer supper—soon as we are invited,” Kate said with an abrupt change of subject. “So how ’bout an invitation? I’m dyin’ to step outside even fer a few minutes.” She smiled and added, “I could bring somethin’ to add to—”
Marty began to laugh through her tears. “Yer invited,” she said firmly, “tonight. We’d love to have ya. We’ve been missin’ ya so. It seems like such a long, long time.”
“It does to me, too,” Kate admitted. “But I’m feelin’ a little stronger each day now. I’m even plannin’ on going to church again next Sunday—iffen the weather isn’t too bad. Doc said I should guard against a chill fer a while. I’m prayin’ the weather will be nice.”
“I’ll join ya in that prayer,” promised Marty.
“Oh, Mama,” said Kate, “I’m just countin’ the days now until yer little one is here. It’s gonna be so much fun to have ’im to hold and play with.”
“Her,” corrected Marty.
“Oh yeah—her. It was ours who was to have been the boy. I’m glad thet it wasn’t. She was a beautiful little girl, wasn’t she? Clare said he learned one thing. With God makin’ little girls so cute, it won’t matter next time whether God decides to send a boy or a girl.”
“Guess it won’t matter none to me, either,” agreed Marty. “It’s just a little game we have always played at our house. Sorta boys against girls. Right now, the girls think they are outnumbered. They’re not really—when ya count Nandry an’ Clae. They count ’em or don’t count ’em as suits their cause.” Marty laughed.
“Maybe God would send us one of each iffen we’d ask.”
“Whoa, now!” exclaimed Marty, holding up a hand. “I’m thinkin’ one will be ’bout all I can handle!”
They laughed together, and Marty rose to go.
“I’m so glad ya came, Mama,” said Kate with great feeling. “I’ve been missin’ ya so. Pa has dropped in now an’ then, an’ thet has been a real help. It helps Clare, too, to have Pa.”
Marty gave Kate a warm embrace, and both of them felt between them the struggle of the little one against the confinement.
Kate backed away laughing. “She’s alive an’ kickin’, all right. Little rascal! I can hardly wait to meet her.”
Marty could hardly wait, as well. “See ya fer supper. I’ll hurry on home an’ share the good news with Ellie.”
“I’m lookin’ forward to it. It’ll be so good to be with you all again,” Kate stated, then added, “You be careful on those slippery paths, now.”
Marty promised and walked carefully toward her home, breathing deeply of the cold, fresh air. She really should make herself go out more often. The air was good for her. She could do with more exercise, too.
Kate needed to get out, as well. Marty prayed the weather would soon warm up so Kate might be able to get out and put some color back into her cheeks. Dear Kate. She was so brave about it all. Marty wondered about the little room. Had they left it the same? She hadn’t had the heart to ask. With God’s help, they would soon be needing it again.
TWENTY - ONE
Lane Comes for Supper
“Look who I talked into joinin’ us fer supper,” Clark announced, and Marty looked up expecting to see Clare entering her door. Instead it was Lane who stood silently in the doorway, nervously pulling off his mittens.
“Lane! How nice to see ya!”
Marty felt, more than saw, Ellie’s head lift.
“We’ve been missin’ ya,” Marty went on. “How’re things goin’ at the LaHayes’?”
“Fine,” answered Lane. “Just fine. Had a letter from the boss yesterday. He says the folks will be home next week. Mr. LaHaye, Willie’s pa, has decided to stay on out west. Willie’s brother might even go out there an’ join ’em iffen he can find a buyer fer his place.”
“He wants to sell?” Marty’s voice held surprise.
“Guess he kinda likes the West,” explained Lane.
“Well, come on in and warm yer hands by the fire,” Marty invited. “We’re havin’ a nice roasted chicken fer supper, an’ I think Ellie has got fresh corn bread bakin’ to go with it.”
As Lane moved into the room, Marty added, “Me, now, I just sit around all day an’ watch folks work.”
The group laughed comfortably and moved toward the table.
Lane had not dared to look directly at Ellie. He wondered if she would be able to read his thoughts.
He had pondered much how he could support Ellie, as his wife, if he stayed in the area. True, he could farm. He knew a bit about taking care of farm animals now, but he still knew nothing about planting and raising crops. He could learn, he told himself. He could ask. He would beg for the information—down on his knees if need be—if it meant having Ellie. But then, there was the matter of money. In the West, the prices were still right for the man who was brave enough to want to strike out on his own. In this farming area, all the land had already been taken and farmed. Those who might wish to sell were demanding a high price
for their farms. Lane knew; he had already been inquiring. Take Willie’s brother, for instance. The price he was looking for was so far from what Lane would ever be able to afford that the banker would likely laugh in his face.
No, there just appeared to be no way. No way at all that Lane could see he could ever make a decent living for Ellie in the area. And Ellie could not hurt her mama by going west. It seemed like a dead end to Lane.
He avoided Ellie’s eyes so she could not read the pain in his own. Perhaps it didn’t matter that much to Ellie, he reasoned. Perhaps she did not care for him in the way that he cared for her. There were many farm boys around about who would be more than happy to provide Ellie with a home of her own. Lane had seen that fact the night of the social. Ellie would be much better off—happier maybe—with one of them. And, more than anything else in the world, Lane wanted Ellie’s happiness.
“I thought when ya said ya’d found someone to share our table,” Marty was saying to Clark, “thet ya walked over with Clare an’ Kate. They are joinin’ us tonight, too.”
Clark’s eyes lit up. “Wonderful,” he said. “Thet must mean Kate is beginnin’ to feel better. It’ll be great to have some of the family back again.”
Ellie moved gracefully about the kitchen, putting the finishing touches to the table and dishing up the inviting food. Lane watched Ellie when he was sure she wouldn’t notice. From the kitchen window she took a small violet with soft blossoms of deep purple to place in the center of the table. “Almost matches Kate’s beautiful eyes,” she said to Marty.
“So the LaHayes might be leavin’ us?” Clark was saying, pushing a chair over to Lane. “Never thought they would be thet taken by Willie’s West. Does grow on one, though.”
Lane thought of the West. He loved it. Grow on one? He couldn’t imagine one could live any place in the world that could be any more appealing.
