American Dreams Trilogy

by Michael Phillips

  Nearer, my God, to Thee.

  Nearer, my God, to Thee,

  Nearer to Thee.

  Richmond and Carolyn, along with the Muellers, Brannons, Eatons, and the few others who were still wandering in, found places in the center of the floor which had been kept for them. As the hymn continued, a sense of quiet worship descended upon them all, such that by the time the final strains of the last verse died away, Carolyn had sufficiently collected herself to stand and attempt to speak.

  “My goodness,” she said with a great smile, “that was so beautiful! I don’t think I have ever heard anything like it. Or seen anything like this! What a joy to see you all! Thank you so much for being here as we pray and give God thanks together.”

  She paused, looking around in amazement all over again. “In fact, that was so wonderful, let us sing a few more hymns and give God thanks in our hearts for his goodness to us. Nancy, we will follow you.”

  Without hesitation, again Nancy began to sing. She was instantly again joined by the great congregation surrounding her.

  Rock of ages, cleft for me,

  Let me hide myself in Thee.

  Let the water and the blood,

  From Thy wounded side which flowed,

  Be of sin the double cure,

  Save from wrath and make me pure.

  After three more hymns, Carolyn again stood.

  “I have to admit,” she began, “that for certain personal reasons the last few weeks have been particularly difficult for me. I have lost sight of God’s goodness at times. Even as I said the words a few minutes ago about thanking God in our hearts for his goodness, I realized that I was speaking to myself most of all. But seeing all of you here today has reminded me that love is larger than our own difficulties and—”

  She stopped and glanced down, tears flooding her eyes.

  “What I am trying to say… is that… just seeing you… it means so very much—”

  Again she stopped, struggling not to break down altogether. “I’m sorry, I—”

  Richmond stood up beside her and put his arm around her shoulder.

  “I think what Carolyn is trying to say is that we are both more grateful for your presence here with us today than you can know. It means so very much during what, as she told you, has been a difficult time for us. We are reminded of what the church really is, after all—not a building or fancy choirs and clothes and robes or pretty windows… but people, just ordinary people coming together in Jesus’ name, people who love one another and share life together. I cannot think of a more fitting place for God’s church to gather than in a barn, since it was in a stable that Jesus was born. Is this not what the church, God’s true church, means—people coming together in love to sustain and build one another up? And it is you who have sustained us today. We thank you from the bottom of our hearts.”

  Richmond glanced toward Carolyn.

  “Is that something like what you were trying to say, my dear?” he said.

  “Yes!” smiled Carolyn through her tears. “That is exactly it.”

  Both were surprised now to see Cherity stand where she had been sitting between Thomas and Cynthia midway toward the back of the barn. She smiled down one last time at Thomas and his sister, who were also in on the scheme. Slowly she walked forward and turned to face the crowd as she stood between Carolyn and Richmond.

  “Would you mind if I said a little something?” she asked.

  “No… no, of course not,” nodded Richmond.

  “Sydney and I were talking the other day,” Cherity began. “And I thought of Jesus’ feeding of the five thousand and the four thousand. I decided to read the stories over again. So last night I got out the Bible Carolyn and Mr. Davidson gave me and I did. What I noticed about both stories when I read them again, was what ordinary men the disciples were. They were just like you and me. If Jesus happened to appear today, even here and if he walked right into this barn and looked around at all of us, he might pick any of us to be his present-day disciples. Well,” she added, “maybe he wouldn’t pick any of us women, I don’t know about that! But he might. It was clear that there were many women among his followers. But for sure he certainly might pick any of you men. Rich or poor, white or black… those kinds of things didn’t matter to Jesus. He might pick one of you men who used to be a slave. Or he might pick a landowner like Mr. Davidson or Mr. Brannon. Jesus liked ordinary, down-to-earth people.

  “But what I wanted to say was that the disciples were so ordinary, they didn’t really have very much faith. You and I probably wouldn’t have either if we were looking out at five thousand hungry people and then Jesus said to us, Give them something to eat. No wonder they looked around at each other, wondering if they’d heard him right, and then started asking questions about how they were supposed to do it.

  “But Jesus was always so practical. He knew they didn’t have very much faith. He knew that the need seemed huge and overwhelming, and their resources and their faith seemed far too small.

  “So Jesus just gave his disciples something practical to do, and then told them to do it, and then waited for a miracle to take place in their hands. I noticed that too when I was reading last night. Jesus is the one who made the miracle of the bread and the fish take place, but the miracle actually happened in the disciples’ hands. When they did what he told them, no matter how small a thing it might have seemed, he made a miracle happen.”

  Cherity paused briefly, glanced with a smile toward Carolyn and Richmond, then continued.

  “We often find ourselves in exactly the same situation,” she went on. “Our resources seem so small, and our need seems so huge and overwhelming. And yet… God knows how to take care of us. And he does, just like he took care of all those hungry people… and just like he has taken care of me.

  “After my father died, I felt so alone and didn’t know what would become of me. My need felt so big and overwhelming. But God had bread and fish to give me, and he gave them to me through you two dear people here. You all know them, and you have all received life and love from them too. They gave me a new home, and they loved me, and they taught me about God, which is the greatest thing they could have given me at all.

  “I know this may not be my place,” Cherity said, pausing briefly and turning to Carolyn, “but I hope you will forgive me. Something I have noticed about your services that are different than the few others I attended before coming here, is that you never take a collection. I thought all churches took offerings.”

  “Well, I suppose most do,” said Carolyn slowly, not understanding why Cherity would be thinking about passing a collection plate at a time like this. “But… I never saw a need for one. And who would have had anything to put into it?” she added, laughing and looking around.

  “Up until now maybe that has been true,” said Cherity, smiling and glancing about. “But perhaps people have more to contribute now than before.”

  Laughter spread about the barn. Every face wore a big smile in anticipation of what was coming.

  “So I thought it would be nice today, just this once, if we took a collection, so that all of us could show our appreciation to you and Mr. Davidson for all you have done for us.”

  Sporadic clapping broke out, along with a dozen or more enthusiastic Yeses and Amens.

  “Really, my dear, that is hardly necessary,” faltered Carolyn, embarrassed by the suggestion of their taking money from all these Negro men and women who had so little.

  “But if we all want to,” persisted Cherity, “truly want to, you wouldn’t refuse us that… would you?”

  “I… I don’t—,” began Carolyn, looking around helplessly at Richmond.

  “We understand that the two of you are going to Richmond for a few days,” Cherity continued, “on some kind of business. We thought perhaps we might gather something to help with your trip. Sydney, do you have the bowl?”

  Sydney stood from where he sat on the floor and walked forward holding a dented metal milking pail.

/>   “I thought we might need to have a little more faith than just a bowl’s worth,” he said. “So I brought this instead. Don’t worry, it is cleaned and washed!”

  “Then shall we pass it around?” said Cherity, by now grinning excitedly.

  Richmond and Carolyn watched in astonishment, as a great shuffling and moving transformed the barn into a beehive of activity, people whispering and stirring and reaching into pockets and handbags and inside vest pockets. Soon the bucket was making the rounds, with a clinking and clattering and chinking of coins as they fell into it.

  Nancy Shaw sat beaming in pride. When the bucket came to her, she looked forward toward Carolyn, tears filling her eyes in spite of her smile, then deposited her twenty-nine dollars and passed the bucket along. And so it was with every set of hands the bucket passed through. Every contribution, whether it was a single penny or, like Nancy’s, an entire lifetime of savings, was placed inside as a gift of love into a humble vessel of sacrifice. And as it was passed from one to another, the weight of the tabernacle of blessing steadily grew.

  Richmond and Carolyn watched in speechless amazement. They saw Lucindy and Caleb Eaton take from their pockets what appeared to be a handful of paper bills, as did Mueller and Brannon. And still the dull clinking of hundreds of copper and silver coins from small to large poured in.

  After its journey the length and breadth of the barn, and its detour up to the loft and back down, at last the bucket returned to Sydney. He held it to his wife. Chigua placed something inside that no one could see. Then Sydney walked forward and held the bucket in front of Cherity. She placed a folded piece of paper inside it. Then Sydney walked toward where Carolyn and Richmond stood staring in wonder. Richmond was shaking his head in disbelief, Carolyn was by now quietly weeping.

  Sydney held the bucket with both hands toward them. The entire gathering stilled and grew absolutely quiet.

  “This is for the two of you,” he said, “from all of us to whom you mean so much. We want you to take it as a love gift, from our hearts to yours, in appreciation for the freedom, the life, and the love you have given to so many. We want you to use it to keep Greenwood flourishing and full of life.”

  “We… I don’t know what to say,” said Richmond. “All we can say… is thank you. We love you all so very much.”

  He glanced at Carolyn. “Is there anything you want to say?”

  Carolyn shook her head, then could contain herself no longer. She burst into tears, then spun around and ran from the barn sobbing.

  Richmond took the bucket from Sydney’s two outstretched hands. Unprepared for its weight, he nearly dropped it on the hard-packed dirt floor. The sight of what sat inside nearly took his breath away. Coins and bills of every denomination nearly filled the bucket, with Cherity’s folded paper on top, and a gold ring beside it which he knew to be Chigua’s.

  He stood shaking his head, still speechless, still not suspecting the whole truth of what was in his hands. Not a man given to frequent tears, they rose unbidden now.

  “I… I think I had better go see how Carolyn is doing,” he said in a husky voice.

  He turned and, holding the holy receptacle of love, followed Carolyn through the door.

  Cherity, Chigua, Cynthia, Sydney, Thomas, and Nancy found their two beloved friends some minutes later where they knew they would be, on their favorite bench in the garden. Almost timidly the six approached. Richmond glanced up and smiled in humble gratitude. Carolyn again burst into tears.

  “You have each given us… everything you had,” said Richmond softly, his voice barely more that a whisper. “Everything. Chigua… your ring! We cannot possibly take it—we would never sell such a treasure! But what your gesture means to us. And Nancy, you dear, dear lady. I saw what you put in and I know it was all you had.”

  Finally he glanced to Cherity. All he could do was smile and shake his head. He was still holding the check from Mr. Glennie in his hand, made out to her in the amount of eleven thousand eight hundred and fifty-seven dollars.

  “What can I say? You know we cannot possibly—”

  “Mr. Davidson,” said Cherity, “it is already done. The house is sold. Greenwood has to be saved, and I realized this is more home now to me than Boston. Why should I not sell a place that is no longer my home for the sake of what now is my home? If you try to give the check back to me, I will go to that lawyer and give it to him myself. I hope you will forgive me for telling the others that you had a need and inviting them to come share with you.”

  Richmond bowed his head. He had no words. Carolyn still wept in thanksgiving to have been given such true and loving family and friends.

  Several minutes went by. No one spoke. At last Carolyn drew in a steadying breath or two and began to remember her responsibility, that this was Sunday, and that all those people back in the barn had come expecting a church service.

  “Oh, my!” she said, wiping at her eyes and standing up as she forced a smile. “We cannot leave everyone like this! What will they think?”

  “Don’t worry, Mother,” said Cynthia, placing a hand on Carolyn’s arm. “The sermon is now in progress. We cannot go back in and interrupt it.”

  “Sermon… what do you mean?”

  “When you and Father left, Nancy led two more hymns, then Mr. Brannon stood up. Even though Quakers don’t usually preach, he rose to the occasion and took charge. That is when the rest of us slipped out.”

  “The dear man!” smiled Carolyn, wiping at her eyes again. “But perhaps we should be ready to go back in when he is through. Oh, I wish we had known about all this, we could have planned a meal. It seems that we ought to—”

  “It’s all been seen to, Miz Dab’son,” said Nancy. “We tol’ folks ter bring what dey cud, an’ Miz Cherity an’ Miz Cynthia an’ me, we been bakin’ fo’ two days. We gots enuf food down in da cabins—tryin’ ter keep everythin’ out er you an’ Mister Dab’son’s sight—ter feed Mister Lincoln’s whole army. Ain’t nobody gwine ter be hungry roun’ here today!”

  And so it was that something less than five thousand visitors to Greenwood ate their fill that afternoon, and had so much left over that it just might have filled twelve baskets. But the fellowship and bonds of many friendships that were renewed and deepened throughout the day were more precious even than the offering that had been given on behalf of the man and woman who had done so much for them all.

  Fifty

  Richmond and Carolyn departed for Richmond two days later taking with them the milk pail exactly as Sydney had handed it to them, with only Chigua’s gold ring removed. By then Grant’s army had moved south of the city and, though evidence of the Union siege of the Confederate capital could be seen, they were able to make it into the city safely and without incident.

  Getting into the courtroom with the bucket proved something of a challenge. But they managed to get it on the floor between them, unobserved by Richmond’s cousin where he sat across the room.

  When he was ready, the judge called Richmond forward.

  “You are Richmond Davidson, the defendant?” he asked.

  “I am,” answered Richmond.

  “Do you have counsel, Mr. Davidson?”

  “No, sir. I am here on my own behalf.”

  “What defense do you have to make? You are delinquent on the loans in question, are you not?”

  “I am, your honor. I have no defense. Our plantation has not generated sufficient income lately and I simply have not been able to pay what I owe. But I would like to do so now.”

  “Do what, Mr. Davidson?”

  “Comply with the demand for payment that was issued to us.”

  “Comply… you mean, with full payment… of all four notes?”

  “Yes, sir—at least I think there will be enough to do so. I apologize for only doing so now, and in such a fashion. I know that technically we may still be liable for some penalty for not complying sooner, and again I apologize for the seeming theatrics of this. However, we only came into these fu
nds two days ago, and therefore we brought them straight here just as they came to us.”

  Richmond turned back to where Carolyn sat.

  “My dear,” he said, “would you please bring up the, uh… the container?”

  Carolyn rose, stooped and lifted the pail from the floor, and carried it forward with both hands and handed it to Richmond. With obvious effort Richmond lifted it onto the judges desk, where it echoed heavily down with a thud.

  “I believe this should cover the amount in question,” he said.

  “This is highly irregular…,” began the judge, as he peered into the bucket. “For the love of—what is this, Mr. Davidson? A bucket of loose coin… although I do see a few notes scattered here and there… but this is hardly sufficient to clear off your responsibilities.”

  “If you will just look at that check there on top, your honor,” said Richmond. “You will see that it has been signed over to me. I think, along with the rest, it may just be sufficient to meet the case.”

  The judge reached in and withdrew Cherity’s check and unfolded it.

  “Ah… yes, I see what you mean,” he said. “Well, this changes things considerably. Well… it will have to be counted, of course. But for the present we will assume everything is in order as you say.”

  He turned to Harland Davidson where he sat in fuming disbelief at the ridiculous display.

  “I must say, Mr. Davidson,” said the judge, speaking to the attorney, “that having thoroughly reviewed the facts of this case, all the way back to the decease of Grantham and Ruth Davidson and the disposition of their estate, and up through all the efforts made by the defendant to be far more fair to you and his other three cousins than any of you deserve or should have felt entitled to by any standard, legal or otherwise… I found your suit to be nothing short of a mockery to the justice system, and even more a mockery to the system of fairness itself. The law compels me to hear such cases, and the law might even have compelled me to decide in your favor. But I find your suit an embarrassment against right and truth. It gives me great pleasure to say that this case is dismissed, and to tell you, Mr. Davidson, to get out of my court. Furthermore, it is my judgment, and I hereby order that the defendant be awarded damages in the sum of one thousand dollars for legal fees and disruption to the work of their plantation, to be paid by plaintiffs. All matters pertaining to the estate of Grantham and Ruth Davidson and the property known as Greenwood, are hereby and forever closed. Good day, gentlemen and ladies.”