by Al Lacy
After she and Sam had enjoyed their breakfast and had read their Bibles and prayed together, Emma slowly raised her ungainly body from the chair at the kitchen table and felt a sharp stitch in her left side.
Hmm, she thought to herself as she rubbed the spot. I wonder …
Then the pain went away.
Nothing, I guess. “Sam, this is the last day of September. If Dr. Jones is right, and I’m to have a September baby, he or she is going to have to hurry up.”
Sam grinned as he pushed his chair back and stood up. “Well, hon, we both know that doctors are only human. Predicting the date of a baby’s birth is difficult at best. We’ll just have to wait and be patient. I’ll be working in the barn if you need me. Just give a holler.”
“Don’t worry. I will. You come in sometime around midmorning, and I’ll have some hot coffee for you. It’s pretty cold out there, with the rain and all.”
“Will do, sweetie,” Sam said, and taking her in his arms, kissed her soundly.
The day went by as usual, and they both stayed busy with their chores. Emma, of course, took a few minutes to rest periodically. Several times during the day, she stopped and rubbed her aching back, making a fist of her hand and pushing against the offending spot. As the hours passed, she knew she didn’t feel just right. She had a few twitches, but nothing to indicate real labor.
The day grew colder and the rain came down steadily.
Late in the afternoon, Sam came in with his milk pail, chilled and damp. Emma was at the cupboard, slicing potatoes. Sam noticed that she was quite pale. He gave her a hand with supper.
When they sat down to eat, Emma toyed with her food, but ate very little.
“Not hungry?”
“Not really. I just don’t feel very good. Nothing specific.”
After the dishes were washed and put away, they went into the parlor. Sam stirred up the flames in the fireplace while Emma relaxed in her favorite padded rocking chair.
For the past two months, Sam had been rubbing Emma’s swollen feet and ankles after supper, and while he was doing so that evening, they spun their dreams of the wonderful future ahead of them.
It wasn’t long until Emma was nodding in her rocking chair. Sam took hold of her hand and her eyes popped open. “Honey, I know it’s early, but I think you need to get to bed. You go on. I’ll stoke the fire and put out the lamps.”
Moments later, when Sam entered the bedroom, Emma was already flat on her back and covered. Her swollen midsection made a sizable mound under the covers.
Sam put out the lantern and slipped in beside her.
Shortly after Emma had dropped into a light sleep, a jarring pain gripped her back and shot around to her midsection. She let out a gasp and put her hands on her belly. Sam seemed to be sleeping soundly, and not wanting to awaken him, she lay perfectly still.
However, in a matter of less than five minutes, another pain attacked her. A small moan escaped her tight lips.
Fully aware that Emma could go into labor at any time, Sam was attuned to her every movement and was immediately awake. Turning onto his back, he raised up on an elbow, trying to see her face in the dark room. “What is it, honey? The baby?”
“I think so,” she squeaked as another pain began its route through her body.
Sam jumped out of the bed and lit the closest lantern, wanting to better assess the situation.
Wide-eyed, Emma lay on the bed, a sheen of perspiration covering her brow. Her hands were gently rubbing the girth of her belly.
“Should I go for Dr. Jones?”
Emma swallowed. “I … I don’t know. It seems so sudden. I was always told that first babies take hours and hours.”
She caught her breath after another contraction lanced through her.
“I can’t leave you to go for the doctor, sweetheart. Your pains are too close together. What if the baby came while I was gone?”
Emma had no answer.
Sam began pacing the floor like a caged animal. Several minutes passed. The sound of his bare feet on the floor was nearly drowned out by the sound of the steady rain.
Emma dared to take a deep breath. It brought no pain. Looking sheepishly at her pacing husband, she said, “Guess it was a false alarm. No more pains have come. Let’s try to go back to sleep.”
Sam stopped and shook his head. “Oh no, you don’t. My mind’s made up. I’m going for the doctor. This may very well be the real thing and the Lord has let your pains slow down so I’ll have time to go bring Dr. Jones here. You stay right there in that bed. I’ll be back with the doctor soon.”
While he was putting on his clothes, Emma said, “All right, dear husband. You be careful riding out there in that rain. Baby and I need you.”
As Sam dashed out the bedroom door, Emma said, “Please protect him, Lord. He’s just about beside himself right now.” She noted by the clock on the wall that it was 9:40.
The patter of the rain lulled Emma into a light sleep. When she woke up, she glanced at the clock and found that she had slept exactly one hour. Sam should be here with the doctor any minute.
While she listened for the sound of her returning husband, a pain assailed her body. She gasped, “Hurry up, Sam! Please hurry!”
One pain after another was upon her, with little time in between to catch her breath.
She was fearful of giving birth while alone, yet knowing that God was in control, she tried to rest in Him. Moaning now with each pain, Emma clamped her teeth together, trying not to scream, but the pains were coming one right after another and a loud scream made its way past her clenched teeth.
Emma heard pounding feet in the hall, and Sam came through the door with Dr. Jones on his heels, black medical bag in hand.
“We heard your wail, honey,” said Sam, taking hold of her hand.
“Oh, thank God!” she gasped, squeezing Sam’s hand.
Dr. Jones set his medical bag on the small table by the bed. “We’re here now, Emma. Everything will be all right. Sam, go get me a pail of warm water from the kitchen, and bring a couple of towels with you.” With that he turned, went to the basin by the dresser, and washed his hands.
Sam dashed obediently out the bedroom door, saying they had bought some soft blankets for the baby.
When the doctor returned to the bed, he said, “Just relax now, Emma, and push for all you’re worth when I tell you.”
Sam returned with the pail of water, the towels, and a soft baby blanket.
The doctor had prepared Emma for the birth that was about to take place, and after two more contractions, a lusty cry was heard while Sam stood like a statue, his eyes bulging.
Emma gave a huge sigh of relief and satisfaction.
The silver-haired physician put his attention on the wailing baby and said, “You folks have a beautiful daughter!”
Emma was still panting slightly from her exertion. “Is … is … she all right … Doctor?”
Jones chuckled, his attention still on the newborn. “Everything looks to be in working order. Eight fingers and two thumbs. Ten toes, two eyes, two ears, and a cute little nose above a rosebud mouth. Just a moment, I’ll let you see for yourself.” He looked at the clock on the wall. “By the way, she is a September baby! It’s fifteen minutes till midnight.”
Jones quickly washed the baby with the water Sam had brought and dried her off with a towel. The baby was still crying, but began getting quieter while the doctor wrapped her in the soft blanket and placed her in her mother’s waiting arms.
Sam moved up and sat on the edge of the bed beside mother and daughter. Both parents had tears in their eyes as they beheld the blessed gift God had given them, feeling their hearts enlarge to encompass this wonderful little miracle.
Emma kissed a tiny cheek. “Hello, sweetheart. Daddy and I agreed that if you were a girl, your name would be Jody Ann. We love you.”
“We sure do, darlin’,” said Sam, leaning down to kiss the other cheek.
He then took hold of Emma’s fr
ee hand and bowed his head. “Thank You, heavenly Father, for this incredible blessing. Right now, we give little Jody Ann back to You, asking that You will use her to glorify Your name. Please give us wisdom as we raise her in Your nurture and admonition. Thank You, again, for this little bundle of love. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
“Amen,” echoed Emma, her voice soft with wonder.
Tears flowed down Emma’s cheeks as she stood over the bed in the clinic and stroked Jody’s cheek with the precious memories fresh in her mind.
Emma gazed at the form of her daughter on the bed. “Honey, it wasn’t in God’s plan to give us more than one child, but you have always been enough, and just exactly what we needed.”
She bent down and kissed her forehead. “The day of your birth was so marvelous. And so was the day of your new birth. Remember? Mommy had the joy of leading you to Jesus when you were six years old. And what a joy it has been to watch you grow into such a fine Christian young lady.”
Emma went on to tell her daughter what a blessing she had been to her daddy, being the tomboy that she was.
All the while, Jody lay still and silent.
Emma’s eyes filled with tears. “Lord, You know that Sam and I have agreed on this. We will understand if You decide to take Jody home with You. We will miss her terribly, but we only want Your will to be done. If that is to take her home, I know you will give Sam and me the grace to bear it.”
Chapter Eleven
In Manhattan, New York, early on Monday evening, June 15, Johnny Marston was standing on the front porch of the house where he had been staying, watching for Pastor and Mrs. Darryl Moore to arrive.
Seated on the porch behind Johnny were Albert and Susan Snyder, who were in their late fifties.
Albert said, “So you’ve never been on a train before, eh, Johnny?”
Johnny kept his eyes glued on the street, not wanting to miss the sight of the Moore buggy when it rounded the corner. “No, sir. My sisters and I have never even been up close to a train. We’ve seen ’em moving on the tracks lots of times, but we’ve never been up close to one so’s we could touch it.”
Susan kept her eyes on the boy. “Do you suppose Mary and Lizzie are as excited about riding the train as you are?”
“I think Mary is, Mrs. Snyder, but I don’t think Lizzie really understands what it’s all about, yet. Mary told me at church yesterday that Lizzie still talks about Mama and Papa coming home. We thought we had made her understand that when people die, they don’t come back, but Lizzie still doesn’t realize that Mama and Papa will never come home again. At times, it seems she understands, then she says things that tell us she doesn’t.”
“Well, it will just take time,” said Albert. “I imagine when you children get settled in a home out West, Lizzie will get the picture.”
“Mm-hmm.”
Susan left her chair, moved up beside the boy, and put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m glad you and your sisters will get to spend tonight with Mrs. Roberts. She really loves you.”
Johnny nodded, keeping his eyes fixed toward the corner. “She’s a real nice lady. She said she would adopt us if she was younger. She— Oh, look! Here come Pastor and Mrs. Moore!”
Albert joined his wife and Johnny at the porch railing, and all three watched as the Moore buggy came down the street toward them.
Johnny dashed down the porch steps. When the Moore buggy came to a halt at the curb, Johnny was there to greet them.
The Snyders watched while Pastor Moore helped Dora from the buggy, then both of them hugged the boy.
Johnny walked between them as they crossed the yard and moved up the steps. The Snyders greeted the Moores, then the pastor said, “Has this kid eaten you out of house and home?”
The Snyders both laughed, then Susan said, “He does have quite an appetite for a six-year-old, but it’s been a joy to feed him, Pastor. We both wish we could keep him, but he needs to be with his sisters. And all three of them need a permanent home.”
Albert nodded. “Right. I’m sure the Lord is going to give them a good home out West.”
Dora smiled. “Well, we really appreciate your keeping him here with you all this time.” Then she said to Johnny, “Time to go. Mrs. Roberts is fixing supper for all of us.”
Johnny hugged Susan and Albert, thanking them for letting him stay at their house.
The Snyders stood on the porch and waved as the buggy pulled away. Sitting between the pastor and his wife, Johnny waved back.
While Pastor Moore was driving the buggy to where they would pick up Mary and Lizzie, Johnny said excitedly, “Just think! Tomorrow, Mary and Lizzie and I will get on that train! It’s gonna be really neat! And when we get out West, I’ll get to see lots of cowboys and Indians!”
The Moores looked at each other and smiled. They were glad to see Johnny so happy.
The pastor guided the buggy to a halt in front of the home owned by church members Roger and Lois Neal. The Neals, like the Snyders, were in their late fifties. They stood on the porch and smiled as Mary and Lizzie bounded off the porch and ran across the yard, calling to their brother.
Johnny jumped out of the buggy on the street side behind the pastor, and ran around the horse to greet Mary and Lizzie. While the pastor was helping Dora from the buggy, the Marston children began talking excitedly to each other about their upcoming train ride. Together, they walked with the Moores toward the house.
Once they were on the porch, the Moores and the Neals chatted for a moment, then Dora said, “Well, girls, you’d better tell Mr. and Mrs. Neal good-bye. Mrs. Roberts will be waiting for us.”
With Lizzie at her side, Mary said to the Neals, “Thank you for letting us stay with you.”
“We enjoyed it, honey,” said Lois. “We’d like to keep you forever, but we know you have to be on that train tomorrow.”
Lizzie raised her arms to Lois while Mary was hugging Roger.
Lois picked Lizzie up, held her close, and kissed her cheek. “I’ll miss you, sweetie.”
“Miss you too,” said Lizzie. “Thank you for taking care of us.”
Lois squeezed her tight. “You’re welcome, honey. I love you.”
When both girls had hugged Roger and Lois, the Marston children followed the Moores across the yard toward the buggy.
The shadows of the trees and houses stretched eastward as the sun’s last golden rays shone over the western horizon. Frances Roberts was looking out her parlor window when the Moore buggy pulled up in front of her house. She moved out onto the front porch.
All three of the Marston children looked sadly at the house next door, where they used to live, and their thoughts went to their dead parents. They had once felt so secure. The house looked the same, but Mary and Johnny knew that nothing would ever be the same again in their lives.
As Johnny was helping Lizzie out of the buggy, the little four-year-old pointed to the house that once was her home. “Want Mama! Want Mama!”
Mary took hold of Lizzie’s hand. “Honey, Mama and Papa are in heaven with Jesus. Remember?”
Lizzie looked at her blankly. “Want Mama an’ Papa come home.”
Mary shook her head. “Mama and Papa don’t live in that house anymore. They’re way up in the sky with Jesus. Don’t you remember? We’ve talked about it lots of times.”
“Oh. Uh-huh.”
“That’s why we’re going to ride the train tomorrow. We’re going on a long trip to our new home.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Frances Roberts greeted the children and the Moores. “Supper’s ready, everybody. Let’s get inside.”
When they were gathered in their chairs at the table, Frances asked the pastor to offer thanks to the Lord for the food. In his prayer, Moore asked the Lord to take care of the Marston children as they boarded the orphan train tomorrow, and to give them a happy home with a good Christian family out West.
While they were eating, Frances ran her gaze over the faces of the three children. “I’m sure going to miss y
ou precious babies. I’m so glad I could have you with me in this house tonight. Like Pastor, I’ve been praying that the Lord will take care of you.”
Lizzie’s eyes lit up. “Oh, God will take care of us, Mrs. Roberts. Me an’ Mary an’ Johnny are God’s little sparrows.”
Pastor Moore smiled and swallowed a mouthful of mashed potatoes. “Lizzie, how’d you know about your being God’s little sparrows?”
Frances set her coffee cup back in its saucer. “Shortly after we received the news about Bob and Louise, I showed these children what Jesus said in Matthew chapter 10 and Luke chapter 12 about God’s care of the sparrows, and that those who belong to Him are of more value than many sparrows. Lizzie picked up on it and announced that she and her sister and brother were God’s little sparrows.”
Dora’s eyes misted as she looked at Lizzie. “That’s so sweet. You’re pretty smart, aren’t you?”
“She sure is!” said the pastor. “That’s some wisdom you have, Lizzie.”
As if it were a settled matter in her own mind, Lizzie said, “Thank you.”
Frances chuckled. “Well, if you little sparrows will finish cleaning up your plates, I’ve got chocolate cake for dessert!”
This announcement compelled the children to hurry and devour the food on their plates.
When supper was over and the kitchen was cleaned up, Frances took the children and showed them the room Johnny would sleep in that night, then showed the girls their room. They returned to the Moores in the parlor, and when they sat down, the pastor said, “Dora and I need to get home and check on our mothers, but before we go, I’d like to have prayer for these three sparrows.”
They gathered in a circle, holding hands, and with heads bowed and eyes closed—except for Lizzie, who peeked a few times—Pastor Darryl Moore led in prayer, praising God for the Children’s Aid Society and thanking Him that He was going to take care of His little sparrows as they went west on the orphan train to find a new home.
When the Moores were at the front door, ready to leave, the pastor said, “Mary, Johnny, Lizzie: Mrs. Moore and I will pick you up in the morning as planned and take you to the Children’s Aid Society headquarters. We’ll have to pick you up at six-fifteen in order to be there on time.”
