by Janette Oke
Auntie Lou didn't say anything, but her blue eyes widened. She nodded and then looked down for a minute.
"Again, I say thank you;' and he touched his hat briefly.
Auntie Lou looked up then. Their gaze held for a minute and then the new preacher turned to me. He held out his hand like I was a full-grown man or something.
"Take good care of Pixie, Joshua. She looks like a real winner. We'll see you both in the mornin'."
I nodded. I'd be there. Grandpa would see to that. The next mornin' was to be Pastor White's final message and the congregation would be introduced to Reverend Crawford. There'd be a potluck dinner afterward, and then the next Sunday we'd have our new preacher. I might even listen a little-jest the one Sunday-jest to see what kind of preacher a man like him would be.
I watched him mount and start down the lane. When I turned around Auntie Lou was already back to the house.
CHAPTER 21
Parson Nathaniel Crawford
Another week passed. It was rather strange. Not the week really-but Auntie Lou; and Lou bein' the pivot for my whole world, she made everything else seem strange, too.
Gramps developed a bit of a cold, and Auntie Lou fussed and stewed about that, tryin' every remedy that she knew. Gramps tolerated it all goodnaturedly, but I really think that he would have rather jest left that cold on its own. It wasn't that bad a one anyway.
Besides, I don't think that it was Gramps' cold that was really botherin' Auntie Lou. It jest gave her somethin' to do with her fidgeting.
Sunday finally rolled around. The breakfast table that mornin' was full of talk of the new preacher, wonderin' what his "delivery" would be like and if he'd be able to help the young folks and still support the old. Gramps added with a chuckle that he sure didn't expect him to have trouble gettin' the young women out. Auntie Lou, who had been lookin' down at her plate and playin' around with a piece of bacon, looked up after that remark, then quickly dropped her eyes again.
I was afraid that she was comin' down with Gramps' cold-she seemed so off-her-feed for some reason; but no one else seemed to notice anything wrong.
Lou suggested that maybe Gramps should jest stay home and nurse his cold, but Gramps would have none of it. He never missed worshippin' on the Lord's Day, he said. He had so much to be thankful for, he maintained, and he planned on bein' there to tell the Lord so. Auntie Lou seemed to think that Gramps could have had his little talk with the Lord jest as well from his own bedroom, but Gramps gently but stubbornly disagreed.
"Not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together;" he quoted. "We weren't meant to praise Him solo, but as a great chorus:"
Then he laid a hand lovingly on Lou's shinin' hair and his eyes were wet.
"Just like your granny, fussing over those you love. I'm just fine, little Lou, truly I am, but thanks for caring."
He leaned over and kissed Auntie Lou on the cheek. Lou knew that she had lost as far as Gramps goin' to church was concerned; but though she still looked worried, I think she was pleased to know that he realized jest how much she really cared about him. She turned to her dishes then, rushin' with them so that she could be ready for church.
Uncle Charlie grabbed a tea towel to give her a hand and they hurried through the mornin' chore. As always, when they were finished, Auntie Lou reached up on tiptoe and gave Uncle Charlie a light "thank-you" kiss on the cheek-Uncle Charlie's reason for helpin' her so often.
Auntie Lou ran up the stairs to her room as though she was really lateshe wasn't. Fact was, she had a bit more time than she usually had on Sunday mornin's.
But she sure took a long time a gettin' ready. By the time she appeared again, we men were all standin' around in the kitchen waitin; ready to go. In fact, Grandpa was gettin' impatient. He kept pullin' out his watch and checkin' the time. He was jest ready to call-I could see it comin'-when Lou came down the stairs. At the sight of her we all sorta drew in our breath. She was wearin' her new cream-colored dress that Grandpa had given her for her birthday. The pink trim on it made her cheeks show a rosy pink. Her hair was brushed until it shone and was pinned up in a special way, with little whisps of curls teasin' around her face. She carried Uncle Charlie's shawl over one arm and the locket that Gramps gave her hung around her neck, layin' softly against the creamy bosom of her dress. I looked and sure enough, in her hand she held my lace handkerchief.
"Like it?" She stopped and turned quickly around for us to see each side of her. Her blue eyes sparkled with teasin' and pleasure.
"For my men," she said. "Nellie has been coaxin' me to wear it, and I thought, why not?"
Guess Gramps said it for all of us tongue-tied men.
"Little Lou, you look like an angel-and I'm proud to be able to escort you to church:"
He offered his arm. Auntie Lou accepted it and they walked out together. The rest of us followed.
Boy, I kept thinkin', if Cullum could see her now-bet even he wouldn't think that goin' to church was such a bad idea.
I wasn't worried about Jedd Rawleigh or Hiram Woxley or even Burt Thomas anymore. It wasn't that I wanted her goin' off with Cullum either, but I was sure that he would take real pleasure in seein' Auntie Lou like that.
The warm Indian-summer weather was back again. It was nice to leave for church without havin' to bother to bundle up so that you could hardly move.
Grandpa pushed the team a bit. We had started later than usual, and Grandpa wasn't one to favor being late for church. We made it on time. As we walked to the door, I could feel the stir around us. Most of the young fellas were hangin' around outside yet-sorta gettin' all the air that they could before goin' in to sit a spell. At the appearance of Auntie Lou there was a great deal of head-turnip; feet-shufflin; and elbow-pokin: She greeted them with a shy smile and a cheery good mornin' as she passed-jest as she always did, nothin' more nor less.
We took the usual pew. This morning instead of coaxing to sit with the boys, I joined my family, and planted myself between Gramps and Auntie Lou. I could feel eyes on us, and though I knew it was Auntie Lou they were lookin' at, it still made me squirm. I could hear a few girls' whispers, and I guessed that they were probably discussin' Auntie Lou's dress-girls bein' so taken up with what one another is wearin'
The new pastor took his place and the attention shifted-especially that of the girls. Boy oh boy! I thought, he looks even taller and younger up there behind the pulpit. Preacher has no business lookin' like that. He's supposed to be sorta world-worn and old lookin'. I hadn't figured out yet what he was to do with his time while waitin' to get old, if he felt a call to preach.
He smiled at his congregation and his eyes seemed to take us all in. Auntie Lou wasn't returnin' his look. She was fidgetin' with a lace corner on her hanky.
The openin' part of the service went pretty much as usual. The songs were the ones that we were familiar with. Mrs. Cromby tramped away at the pump organ in the same fashion as always, and Mr. Shaw boomed out in a bass voice, not always quite on key. The ushers gathered the Lord's tithes and offerin's, and Deacon Brown led in prayer.
It was finally time for the sermon and even the boys my age were quiet and waitin'. I was right curious as to what kind of talkin' this new preacher would do. I didn't plan on really listenin'-jest sorta checkin' up on what he had to say.
His voice was pleasant enough, and one soon forgot how young he looked. His manner and his delivery sort of caught me up somehow, and I got to feelin' like what he had to say had greater authority than his alone.
When I summed it all up later, I felt rather tricked. Really it was the same thing that I'd been hearin' all my life-only put to us in a different way. "God's Glorious Provision" he called it, and went on to tell of man's need because of him bein' a sinful creature and what God had done to care for that need. Yea (that was his word)-yea, completely and forever erased the need, by supplyin' man's salvation, through the redemptive death of our Lord.
As I say, I'd heard it all before, but one thing sorta caught me
and had me puzzled. This preacher looked like what he was talkin' about filled him with such happiness that he was about to bust. It seemed that he was pleased to pieces that God had gone out of His way to do all that for man. "Mercy," he called it-mercy and grace-mercy bein' the withholdin' of what you really deserved, like a woodshed trip if you'd been bad; and grace-the gettin' of what you really didn't deserve, like the extra dish of ice cream when there were six servin's and five people to share them.
At the end of the sermon we sang, "Amazin' Grace," and a look at the preacher's face told everyone that he truly thought it was amazin'
Willie Corbin went up and knelt at the front cryin' and the new preacher went to pray with him. Now I knew Willie Corbin, and if ever a fella had need to be a bit concerned about some of his carryin' on, it was Willie. I jest hoped that it wouldn't take all the fun out of him.
I followed my family out of the pew when the pastor finally dismissed the people. Boy, was the church gettin' short of air. I couldn't wait to get outside.
Willie Corbin sat there at the front, grinnin' from ear to ear, as his ma and pa hugged him, wipin' away tears with the pastor's handkerchief.
At the door there was quite a commotion. Everyone wanted to shake the pastor's hand and say nice things about his sermon. Girls giggled a bit and flushed. Some hurried by, the others openly flirted-jest a little bit. Mothers were the worst. Anyone with an unmarried daughter seem to loiter and gush until I felt a little sick. I wanted to break rank and get out of there, but I knew that I had to wait in line or Grandpa would have something to say about it on the way home.
Finally we reached the door. Grandpa went first, shook the pastor's hand firmly and said the usual. Uncle Charlie did likewise. Gramps was next. He, too, shook the reverend's hand firmly but jest said, "God bless, young man. God bless." I kinda thought that the pastor liked that better than all those flowery speeches that he'd heard.
Auntie Lou was jest ahead of me. She stepped forward and accepted the pastor's hand-and then she proceeded to shock me half to death.
"Reverend Crawford," she said softly and controlled. "You said that you'd favor our house with a return visit when the hostess asked you. Could you come for dinner next Sunday?"
The pastor's face dropped.
"Mrs. Peterson has asked me for next Sunday. I'm-"
"Then the Sunday after?"
"Mrs. Corbin-"
"And then?"
"The Hallidays"
Both of them looked a bit miserable.
"I see." Auntie Lou looked about to move on, then she collected herself and smiled. "I did appreciate your sermon."
"Thank you" He looked directly at Auntie Lou, takin' in her creamy dress, pretty hair-do and blue eyes. It was then that I realized that he still held her hand. I guess that they realized it about then, too, for Lou flushed and quickly withdrew it; the parson sort of cleared his throat, embarrassed-like.
Lou moved to walk on by but he quickly stopped her.
"Wait;' he said.
She turned.
"Does it have to be on a Sunday? I mean, people eat every day of the week, say Monday? Tuesday? Friday?"
Lou smiled. "Of course" She sounded almost apologetic for bein' so dumb as not to have thought of it herself.
The pastor smiled, too, seeming tremendously relieved about something.
"Friday at six?" offered Lou.
"Friday."
He beamed at her and very briefly touched her hand again. Auntie Lou returned his smile, then turned to go.
It was my turn now. I was sure that after all that, he wouldn't even notice me, but he did.
"Josh. Good to see you. How's Pixie?"
I muttered something that I hoped was at least sensible, even if not intelligent, and pulled away to follow my family.
Somethin' was brewin: I could feel it in my bones, but I couldn't put my finger on it yet. Whatever it was, I didn't think I liked it.
CHAPTER 22
Rumors
Grandpa had to make a trip to town on Monday so he inquired if I'd like to go along. I asked if it would be okay to take Pixie, and Grandpa agreed with a smile. He said that he'd bring the dog and pick me up at school to save ourselves a little time.
As soon as class was dismissed I was off out the door, and sure enough, Grandpa was there waitin: The kids gathered round for a look at Pixie and I showed her off a bit; then everyone who lived along the direction that we were goin' crawled in the wagon and we set off, scatterin' our passengers at the various farm sites along the way. It was a fun trip and I think that Grandpa enjoyed it almost as much as I.
There really wasn't anything much that I needed to do in town, so I asked Grandpa if I could take a run over to the Sankeys to let Pixie see her mama. He said that it would be fine, but not to be too long, so I set off.
I never did get there though. I had to pass the parsonage where the preacher lived, and it just so happened that as I was headin' by, the preacher pulled up on his horse. He seemed to think that I'd come around just to see him, and he grinned from ear to ear.
"Hi there, josh-and you, too, Pixie, he added. "Right glad that I didn't miss you. Just let me put Big Jim away and we'll rustle up some milk and cookies"
I swallowed my reply that I was on my way to the Sankeys-it wasn't like I had to go or something-and tagged along to the barn.
I felt that I should make some kind of comment, so I looked him overhe was wearin' his preacher clothes. I said, "Been callin'?"
"Been over to see the Corbins-that's where I got the cookies"
"Pastor White jest used to call on Tuesdays and Thursdays-unless," I added quickly, "it was an emergency"
"We'll call this an emergency then. Mrs. Corbin hasn't been feeling too well. She wasn't able to be in church yesterday. But I do want to call on all my parishioners just as soon as I can; I plan to visit as many homes as possible this week and next"
He carefully looked after Big Jim, rubbin' him down and givin' him some hay.
"I'll give him water and his chop in about an hour or so," he said. We headed for the house.
"Do you mind, josh, if I just grab my wash off the line on my way by?"
"Not at all. I'd help you iffen I didn't need to hang onto Pixie"
He asked for an up-to-date report on Pixie's training as he gathered the clothes, and I told him about all her tricks and the next one that I planned to work on. He was anxious for me to show him just how she was doin', and I guess that I was a bit eager, too.
He opened the door and let me precede him into the house. It wasn't blessed with very much furniture, but everything there was shiny clean. He laid his laundry carefully on the table and went about gettin' the milk and cookies.
I received my glass and reached for a couple of cookies from the plate. He took a drink of milk and went right on workin: He matched his socks and rolled them up together. I noticed that most of the pairs had been mended-some of them many times. He came to a pair with a small hole in one toe and laid them aside.
"Guess I'd better take care of that one before I wear it again." He laughed. "Holes in socks are sorta like sin, josh. If you don't tend to them right away when they're small and controllable, they grow with amazing speed"
"You mend your own socks?"
"Sure do-socks, shirts, pants, you name it.
"Don't ya hate it?"
He laughed again.
"Can't say that I rightly enjoy it, but I learned long ago that nothing gets easier or any more fun by putting it off."
"How long ago?"
"Have to think on that. I was twelve when my father died. Pa had been sick a fair while, and by the time he passed away, we had used up all of the living that he had set by. Mama wouldn't have him fretting if she could help it, so she quietly sold anything that she could slip from the house without his noticing. After Pa died, my ma had to take in wash to make enough to get by on. I did the collecting and delivering and even some of the scrubbing, as well as any other small jobs that I could
find.
"Mama was a very proud and independent woman. And, my pa's cousin lived nearby-big man, big family, but not much energy. His place was unkempt and rundown, and a bit on the dirty side. Mama vowed that no matter how poor we were, our place would never look like that-not as long as she could still draw a breath. So, we both worked hard.
"It was my dream to be a preacher. I saw so many people who were hurting. God had laid His call on my heart when I was a very young boy-and I discussed it with both of my folks. Before my pa died he called both Mama and me in. `Son, he said, `I know it looks a little dark right now, but if God truly wants you in His work, don't give up-there'll come a way' I assured him that I wouldn't, and slipped out so that he and Mama could have those last minutes alone. Besides, I wanted to get away where I could cry.
"Everytime Mama could lay aside a few extra dollars from her washing, she would order another book for me to read-'to keep the vision fresh; she would say.
"She was a great little woman, my mama. I'm proud to be her son. She used to worry that I had to become a man at twelve years of age, but looking back now I believe that it was all in God's plan. I had to grow up-to be able to make tough decisions quickly-to learn the importance of following through on one's responsibilities.
"When I was sixteen Mama died and I sold our little house in town and went away to school. I managed to find work-most of the time, and I finally made it. It took me a little longer than some of my fellow students, but God saw me through-just like Pa had said He would."
He was silent for a while; then he looked at me with a queer kind of smile.
"Did a funny thing when I finished, josh. I took that diploma that I was given, stating me to be a preacher, and I used the last few dollars that I had, to have a weather-proof frame put on it-and then I went back to my old hometown and mounted it on a stake right there between the grave markers of my ma and pa."
As he looked at me I saw a lone tear in his eye. For some reason I felt that I wanted to cry, too.
