Winter Is Past

by Ruth Axtell Morren

Had her mother succumbed and fallen in sin out of love or lust? She would never know.

  Althea turned from her silent meditations at the window, asking God for His grace in the coming days. She knew she must bury her love for Simon and fix her attention on Rebecca.

  She renewed her prayers for Rebecca, declaring all the promises for healing and wholeness in God’s word for those who believed. She knew that she herself could not leave Rebecca’s side until she saw her well and whole again.

  One afternoon Simon stopped on impulse at his parents’ residence.

  The house was quiet, with only a silent maid dusting and polishing. Simon found his mother in her sitting room doing needlework. She gazed in delighted surprise when he poked his head in the door.

  Speaking to him in Ladino, she stood. “Simon! What a pleasant surprise! What are you doing here at this time of day?”

  He kissed her on the cheek. “I had a meeting nearby and thought I would visit my mother. Do I need an appointment?” he teased.

  She swatted him on the arm. “Don’t talk such nonsense. Would that I saw all my children every day.”

  “Sit, Mama. I don’t want to interrupt your work.” He glanced down, not really knowing why he had come by. To hide his embarrassment, he asked after his brothers and sisters.

  His mother patted the seat beside her. “They are all fine, knock on wood. Tirzah is looking lovelier each day. You know she and Solomon are already expecting a little one early in the year?” Her mother smiled in satisfaction.

  He nodded. Yes, his sister seemed to be blooming more and more each day.

  She shook her head. “I worry about your brother Nathan. I don’t think he’s happy at the bank.” She fingered the edge of her embroidery hoop. “Is there nothing you can say to him? I know David is set in his ways, a lot like your father, but he only means it for good.”

  Simon said nothing. How was he expected to fix his brother’s life when he couldn’t even manage his own? What would his mother say if she had an inkling of his affairs?

  “How is everything at home? Rebecca? I was just by to see her yesterday.” Mrs. Aguilar clucked her tongue, shaking her head. “So thin. Are you sure she’s eating enough?”

  Simon’s mouth twisted in a smile. It was not worth arguing against his mother’s belief that all ills could be cured if one ingested enough food.

  “How is your work coming, hijo?” she asked, peering at him. “Your abba tries to explain to me the difficulties you face. Everyone arguing. Why can’t they all agree on what is best for the country?”

  Simon chuckled. “Then, perhaps, all those of us in Parliament would be out of work.”

  He crossed his legs and fingered the material of his pantaloons. “What do you think of Miss Breton, Rebecca’s nurse?” he asked abruptly, then regretted the question as soon as it was out.

  His mother looked at him from her deep-set black eyes. “Miss Breton? A nice enough woman. She is a godsend for Rebecca. Rebecca thinks the world of her. Why do you ask, hijo?”

  Simon shifted. In for a penny, in for a pound. “What if your son was contemplating marriage to someone of her sort?” he ended lamely. God, what was he thinking in even voicing such a thought?

  His mother’s mouth dropped open and a look of fear entered her eyes. Her mouth moved silently a few times as if she were trying to speak but couldn’t enunciate the words. “Simon, you’re not—” she finally managed to say. “Oh, Simon, she—” His mother stared at him in anguish. “She is a good woman, a lady, I can see, but, Simon, she’s a Gentile, a nurse. Her beliefs—” Her voice implored him.

  Simon looked at her silently, not having expected any different reaction. Finally he said, “What if you knew absolutely—without a doubt—that her God and yours is one and the same?”

  The fright in her eyes deepened, but as the two continued looking at each other, he could see hope warring with the fear. Her fingers came up to her mouth.

  Finally she said, “It would give me great peace.”

  Midsummer came and went. The city became hot, Mayfair deserted of most families who were off to the country. Simon returned to his routine but avoided Althea as much as she him. His manner when they did meet was formal, causing Althea to long for the old mockery and impatience. He spent every hour not at Rebecca’s bedside closeted in the library, and from Giles she knew he was working at a feverish pace to complete his book. Parliament had recessed, but Simon still spent the evenings out, after spending the early part with Rebecca.

  He had hired a night nurse, whom his older sister, Simcha, had sent over, and told Althea in no uncertain terms that he didn’t want her sitting up until all hours with Rebecca.

  Rebecca’s family came at intervals to sit with the child. Althea’s polite greetings grew to a few pleasantries, until gradually she began to form an acquaintanceship with Simon’s sisters and mother. His mother seemed to take particular pains to draw her out.

  One day Mrs. Aguilar reached over and patted Althea’s hand, saying, “I just want my children to be happy.”

  With the hiring of the night nurse, Mrs. Higgs, Althea had a little more time to resume her work with the kitchen staff. She enjoyed this work for the added benefit that it kept her below stairs, further removed from any contact with Simon. She fretted over Cook, who had had a few relapses during the time Althea had been more occupied with Rebecca. Harry and even Giles now joined the Sunday morning Bible study. She had begun to talk with those at the mission about beginning a chapel service somewhere in Simon’s neighborhood.

  One Sunday morning in late July, Dot did not attend the Bible study.

  “Oh, she’s ailing, miss,” explained Martha.

  “That’s too bad. I shall go up and see her later. Let us lift her up in our prayers this morning.”

  After the study, Althea went up to the attic rooms. Dot lay sleeping, but roused at the sound of Althea.

  “Don’t know what’s wrong with me. Sore throat and ’eadache.”

  Althea bent down to feel her forehead. “Oh, dear, you have a fever.”

  “Went to visit my mum last week and all the young ’uns was sick. Must o’ caught it from them. I was holding ’em and tendin’ to ’em.”

  Althea went to fetch her some hot tea with lemon. “Here, drink this. Let’s swaddle your neck, even though I know it’s beastly hot up here. I shall call the doctor later if you show no improvement. On no account are you to come downstairs. Try to sleep.”

  Althea didn’t want to disturb Simon. The few times they had come into contact he seemed to look right through her. Instead she instructed Giles to tell the master. She sent Mrs. Coates to tend to Dot, wanting as little contact with her as possible, for fear of contracting anything that could be passed on to Rebecca.

  Rebecca greeted her happily when she came to sit with her later in the afternoon.

  “Abba brought me this new book. Aren’t the pictures pretty?”

  “Oh, yes, they are indeed.” Althea took the book from her and leafed through it. She read her a few pages, then set it down when the tea tray was brought up. They drank their tea and chatted a while.

  “You know what I wish, Althea?”

  “What, dear?”

  “That I could hear you playing the pianoforte again.”

  “Why, of course you may. I’ll just get Harry to carry you down, and I’ll play for you.”

  They arranged this, and Althea played for her until Rebecca tired.

  Later that evening, Simon came up to visit with his daughter. He said a brief good evening to Althea as he usually did, although he hardly met her eyes.

  “Good evening,” she replied, giving no hint by her tone or demeanor that his words affected her at all. For all she demonstrated, they had never had any encounter but the briefest between employer and employee. “I shall be down in the kitchen if you require anything.” She had begun sitting with the servants on Sunday evenings. They would sing some songs and read a few Scriptures, and she would tell them some of the te
stimonies of things she’d seen in her years of ministry. They listened wide-eyed when she spoke of the miracles of deliverance and healing she’d seen firsthand.

  A few days later, she heard a knock on her bedroom door. It was still early evening. She had just put down her Bible to prepare for bed.

  “Yes, who is it?”

  “Simon.”

  She hurried to the door, wondering what was the matter. He usually only dealt with Mrs. Higgs, the night nurse, in the evenings when he came in.

  She opened the door. “Is something the matter?”

  “Forgive me for disturbing you. It’s Rebecca. She seems feverish. Can you come for a moment?”

  Her heart sinking at the news, Althea hurried after him.

  “Mrs. Higgs hasn’t arrived yet,” he said over his shoulder. “Besides, I trust your opinion over hers.” They had reached Rebecca’s bedside. “What do you think? Should I call a physician?”

  Althea leaned over Rebecca and felt her forehead. “Yes, she seems hot. Are you feeling poorly, darling?” she asked, smiling at the girl to hide her own fear.

  “Uh-huh.”

  Althea asked her a few more questions as she examined her, her concern growing. “Perhaps we should call Mr. Russell,” she said, mentioning the young surgeon from the mission.

  “I doubt even his devotion would bring him across town at this hour,” he answered shortly. “I shall send for Dr. Roseberry. He’s much closer on Harley Street.”

  Althea looked at him sharply. It wasn’t like him to behave so capriciously where his daughter was concerned, but all she said was “Very well,” and she turned her attention back to Rebecca. After Simon left the room, Althea rang for Mrs. Coates.

  “Yes, miss, you called for me?”

  “Yes, how has Dot been?”

  “She was quite poorly for a few days, but now she’s on the mend. I’m afraid, though, Martha has come down with it.”

  “Oh, no.” Althea thought a moment. “Has Martha brought up any food for Rebecca in the past few days?”

  “Oh, dear, I suppose so. It’s usually Daisy or Dot, but with Dot sick, Martha has been helping bring up Rebecca’s tray. Is something amiss? Did one of them forget to bring something? I’m always after them for something—”

  “No, no, nothing like that. It is just that Rebecca is feverish, and I was wondering, since I knew Dot had been ill….” She heard her own voice trail off, not wanting to formulate what was in her thoughts.

  “Oh, no! Don’t tell me. Poor mite.” As she spoke, she approached Rebecca’s bed and bent over her. “Oh, my, yes, she’s contracted it for sure, poor thing. Now, don’t you fret, Becca, we’ll get you feeling better. Let me just bring you up a nice hot toddy. Your throat pains you?”

  Simon came back up as Mrs. Coates was leaving. Althea went to get some lavender water. When she returned, she found Simon seated beside Rebecca, her hand in his. Althea stooped over and placed the cool compress upon Rebecca’s forehead.

  “They will inform Dr. Roseberry as soon as he returns,” Simon told her.

  “He is out?”

  “Attending the Duchess of Lansdowne’s ball.”

  Althea clamped her lips shut against the retort forming on her lips. Quietly, she told him instead about her fear that Rebecca might have contracted the infection that had gripped a couple of the servants.

  His dark eyes flashed. “Why wasn’t I told of this?”

  “I did inform Giles as soon as Dot took ill.”

  Simon rubbed his face, his frustration clear. “I don’t remember his saying anything. He’s an old man—it could have slipped his mind.”

  She said nothing.

  Her silence seemed only to anger him. “Perhaps he did mention it. I simply don’t remember!” He swore. “I could have removed Rebecca from the household. Why didn’t you come to me?” He looked at her, the anguish visible in his eyes.

  She looked down at her hands. “I’m sorry, I should have come to you directly.”

  He didn’t say anything more, and she knew they were both thinking of that night and how they had been at such pains to avoid one another since then. Would their foolishness cost Rebecca now?

  When the physician didn’t arrive within an hour, Simon finally called for Mr. Russell, who came in under an hour. Simon and Althea watched silently as the doctor examined her. He gave her a sleeping draft and then went out into the corridor with the two of them.

  He had already questioned them about any other illness in the household. He didn’t mince words now. “It’s clear she’s caught what the servants have. There’s nothing to do now but nurse her through it, and pray to God she has the strength to live as it runs its course.”

  By then Mrs. Higgs had arrived and prepared to take the first watch. Althea retired to her room, planning to check in at dawn. Simon left instructions with the night nurse to call him as well at first light.

  Althea walked around her room, not knowing even how to pray. She felt the weight of discouragement press down on her and didn’t feel the power to fight it. She knew the words; she knew the weapons she had been given, but she didn’t feel the strength to use them. She finally crumpled at her bedside and simply murmured, “Oh, God…oh, God…oh, God…help her!” Over and over she cried the words quietly, feeling like a little child crying on her parent’s lap, not knowing how he would answer, only needing to feel the solid comfort of that lap, knowing it wasn’t going to move.

  She finally fell asleep, but awakened throughout the night to pray. At dawn she arose and peeked in on Rebecca. The child was worse, and Althea quickly washed and dressed to return to her bedside, her Bible in hand.

  Simon came in shortly afterward, but the two didn’t say much to each other. He sat for a while with his daughter. Althea exited the room to leave him alone with her, telling him softly to call her as soon as he needed to leave. In the meantime, she knelt in the sitting room and continued to pray. She decided to fast that day.

  The day blended into night and the night into another dawn. Althea thought it was ironic how beautiful those summer days were. She would peer out the window at the street below, see the bright sunshine on the lush treetops, hear the shouts of children running and playing in the nearby square, and listen to the clip-clop of horses trotting briskly on the cobblestones—sounds of life, when within the confines of the mansion on Green Street were heard only dull, muffled sounds, as if everyone was afraid the least noise would somehow hasten things.

  Althea continued her fast, hoping Simon would not notice, but at the fourth day he asked her sharply if she was not eating. She shook her head, hoping he would ask her no more.

  “What, are you hoping to appease your God with sackcloth and ashes?”

  She made no reply, feeling no desire to defend her actions. In her fast, though her body felt weak, her spirit felt strong. By the fifth day, her physical desire for food had disappeared and she had an increased hunger for God’s word. When she was alone with Rebecca, she read the Word aloud, saturating the room with it. In those moments, she felt the presence of God strongly and hope awakened in her.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Miss Althea?”

  Althea started awake in her seat. She must have dozed off for a moment. She looked immediately toward Rebecca’s bed. “Yes, dear, what is it?” she asked, leaning over her.

  “Oh, Althea!” The little girl’s face was radiant and she stretched out her hand, reaching for Althea’s. Althea took the hot hand in hers and clasped it.

  “Oh, Miss Althea, I must tell you about it.”

  “About what, dear?”

  Rebecca turned dark, luminous eyes to her. “I just met Him!”

  “Who, dear?” Althea smoothed her forehead with her other hand.

  “Jesus!”

  Althea’s heart began to pound. “You did?” she asked in awe. “Tell me about it.”

  “I must have been dreaming, but I saw Him. He was right here with me. Oh, Althea, it was wonderful!”

 
Althea nodded. “Oh, yes, dear, it must have been. What did He say?”

  Rebecca closed her eyes. “He told me so many nice things. He said I would be coming to stay with Him soon. Oh, Miss Althea!” Her expression was earnest. “I wanted to stay with Him already. He was so beautiful. I didn’t want to ever leave His side.

  “He gave me His hand and I didn’t want to let it go! But He comforted me, saying it would be soon. There was so much light around Him. I felt as if it reached right through me, lighting me up, too. I felt so warm inside!

  “He told me not to be afraid, that I would be with Him for always. There was such a glow about Him and so much love in His eyes.” She peered at Althea intently as if wanting her to understand.

  “Yes, I know, sweetheart,” said Althea through her tears.

  “You’re crying. Are you sad?”

  Althea shook her head. “I’m so happy you met Jesus.” She cupped the girl’s cheek with her hand. “I shall miss you, dear, ever so much, but I will see you again. You know that now, don’t you?”

  “Yes. I understand what you meant, too, when you told me God is always with us. He truly is. I can feel Him here now. Can’t you?”

  “Yes, oh, yes!”

  Rebecca’s eyes clouded for a moment. “It only made me sad about Abba. I asked Jesus about him. Could he not come, too? Jesus told me not to be sad about Abba.” Rebecca’s eyes smiled once again into Althea’s. “He said He loved Abba just as much as I did, and He wouldn’t leave him comfortless. Those were His words—He wouldn’t leave Abba ‘comfortless.’ He gave me the warmest smile and told me that Abba would be all right.”

  Rebecca held up Althea’s hand and spread it open. “Jesus held out his palm to me like this, to show me where Abba was, engraved right in His hand.”

  One of Althea’s tears dropped onto her palm, and she wiped her eyes.

  “Oh, Miss Althea, don’t cry!” She looked into her nurse’s eyes. “I saw the scar!” Her voice was hushed in awe. “That’s when I knew it was Jesus.”

  The two sat quietly for a few moments, drinking in the experience. After a while, Rebecca spoke again. “He told me right before I woke up that He would leave someone to take care of Abba for me until it was his turn to join me.”