“That’s not true, Raimey.”
“I heard about how you ran around with that other woman.”
Stuart’s jaw suddenly clenched, and Raimey saw his face grow pale.
“That’s true,” he said. “I wish it weren’t. Your mother’s the finest woman who ever lived. I was a fool for treating her as I did.”
Raimey stood up suddenly and asked the question that had been burning in him. “Are you going to stay around here always?”
Stuart shook his head. “No. I don’t think I will.” He looked across at Raimey, and lines appeared at the corners of his mouth and his eyes as if he were under a strain. “Raimey, when I was in prison, for a time I didn’t do anything but hate people. Mostly myself. Then I found the Lord, and things started changing. One thing I did after I found the Lord was to make a list.”
“What kind of a list?” Raimey demanded despite his determination to remain silent.
“I made a list of people I wanted to look up to ask to forgive me. I’m working on that list, so right now I’m asking you to forgive me for all the things I did. I’m sorry for a lot of things, but most of all, I’m sorry for what I brought on you and on your mom and Merry.”
Raimey stared at the tall man who sat there. He thought about how many years he had cried himself to sleep wishing his father could come home, and now that he was back, there was nothing inside Raimey but resentment. Without even answering the question, he turned and left the room.
Stuart Winslow watched his son go and knew there was nothing he could do. The thought came to him, Prison was hard, but nothing has been as hard as this!
****
“Can I help you, Daddy?”
Stuart paused, the bucket in his hand, and grinned. “Sure you can. Here, go put this grain over in that trough right over there. Be careful, though. Don’t let those little pigs nibble your fingers.”
Merry laughed and took the bucket. She was wearing a long dress, black winter boots, and a wool coat. Her blond hair stuck out from underneath the white toboggan hat she was wearing, and as she poured the feed into the trough, she laughed and then reached down and pulled one of the tiny pig’s ears. “Listen at ’em grunt, Daddy. They’re so greedy.”
“Well, I can’t blame ’em there. When it comes to food, I guess I’m pretty greedy myself.”
Stuart continued feeding the stock, listening with pleasure as Merry talked continually. She was like a fountain that gurgled endlessly, and no child had ever been better named, for she was merry indeed. Looking up at the sky, he studied it and then said, “It looks like we might get some snow for Christmas tomorrow.”
“We can’t have Christmas tomorrow. Mama’s sick.”
“Well, we’re gonna do the best we can. Come along. I’ve got a chore for us, and I want Raimey to go along.”
The two found Raimey splitting kindling in the backyard. He looked up as Stuart said, “We’re going out and get a Christmas tree, Raimey. I’ll need you to help.”
“What do you want me for?”
“Well, I’ve got kind of a catch in my shoulder.” Stuart moved his right arm around and made a face. “I guess I strained it trying to haul that ornery mule into the corral yesterday. I’d appreciate it if you would come and help me chop one down.”
“Come on, Raimey!” Merry cried. “I get to pick it out. I know just the one.”
“Guess I can go,” Raimey muttered.
“Get the ax. I sharpened it. It’s over by the grindstone in the barn.”
Fifteen minutes later the three were standing in front of a beautifully shaped cedar tree. “That’s the one, Daddy!” Merry said. “Can we have that one?”
“I don’t see why not. Raimey, think you can chop that one down?”
“Of course I can.” Raimey began to swing the ax, and Stuart stepped back. Raimey did not wear a cap, and his hair was as black as a raven. Tiny flakes of snow had begun to fall, sprinkling the black crown.
Stuart grinned when the tree fell and said, “You ought to become a lumberjack. Tell you what. Tie this rope on it and drag it back, and I’ll tote this here girl.”
That was the way they went back to the house—Raimey pulling the tree and Stuart with Merry on his shoulders and the ax in his left hand. When they got to the house, he put her down carefully and turned to the boy. “Well, the next thing is to make some kind of a stand. Think I’ve about forgotten how, but I know we’re going to need some lumber, nails, saw, and a hammer.”
“I can do that,” Raimey said at once.
“Can I help?” Merry asked.
“No, that’s man’s work. You can help decorate it,” Raimey said.
The three went into the barn where the tools were kept, and Raimey pointed out some old boards that had been saved. “We can make it out of that,” he said.
“Guess you’ll have to boss the job. Don’t think I remember how,” Stuart said. He watched mostly as Raimey sawed the boards and then helped to hold them in place while he nailed them together.
“Now we’ve got to fasten it to the tree,” Raimey said.
“Okay,” Stuart said. “Merry, why don’t you go into the house and figure out a place to put it while Raimey puts the base on. I’ll have to hold the tree up, I guess.”
Merry raced into the house while Raimey finished making the stand. Stuart held it up so that it would be easy. “This is a beautiful tree. Pine always smells good, doesn’t it?”
“Guess so,” Raimey said as he pounded another nail into the base.
It took some time to get the tree into the base and nailed together, and then Stuart said, “I’ll tell you what. I’ll take the bottom, and you take the other side. It’s gonna be close getting it through the door.”
The two climbed the steps bearing the tree, and Stuart pulled the storm door open and then opened the other. They went inside, and Merry was practically hopping up and down. “It’s gonna go right there in front of the window. That’s where we had it last year. I remember.”
Stuart helped unobtrusively to straighten the tree up. “Why, that’s a good job, Raimey. Look how steady it is.”
“Not bad,” Raimey said, trying not to show his satisfaction.
“I’m going to fix some supper. Do either one of you remember where the decorations are?”
“I do!” Merry said.
“Well, why don’t you drag ’em out, and as soon as we have supper, we’ll see what we can do.”
Stuart fixed a quick supper by warming up some food. Merry could hardly wait to begin, and even Raimey seemed excited to decorate the tree. Stuart had to say, “No decorating until you eat!”
After they had eaten, Stuart hauled in a short stepladder so that Raimey could set the top decoration on the tree. As they started putting the rest of the ornaments on, he said, “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t I get my fiddle, and we’ll have some Christmas music. You decorate and I’ll play.”
“Oh, that would be fun! I know all the words to the Christmas songs,” Merry said with excitement in her large blue eyes.
Stuart had brought his violin, and bringing it back into the parlor, he sat down and began to play. He played some carols, then said, “Let’s see if you know the words to ‘We Three Kings.’ ”
“I know that, Daddy. I memorized it last year.”
“Well, I’ve forgotten most of them, so you sing them, and I’ll kind of join in. Raimey, maybe you could help with the words, too.”
The room was filled with the mellow and full sound of the violin. Sometimes the hymns were slow, and other times they were fast, and Stuart was amazed that Merry did know most of the words.
Finally the tree was decorated, and Stuart shook his head with admiration. “Never saw a better-looking tree in my life.”
“It’s not bad, is it?” Raimey said. They turned the lights down and admired the tree for a time.
Merry said, “Could we go caroling?”
“It’s too cold. It’s startin’ to snow,” Raimey said. “Anyhow, there�
��s nobody to sing to.”
“Yes, there is. We can go sing to Merle and Annie and their children.”
“That’s a great idea,” Stuart said. “Come along. Get your coats on.”
Ten minutes later they were standing in front of the small house, and as soon as they began singing, the door opened and Merle stood there grinning. “Well, I’ll be dipped!” he said. “If this ain’t somethin! Carolin’ on Christmas Eve. Come on in the house and have somethin’ hot.”
They went in and found Annie sitting up, playing a game of checkers with her children. The Winslows stayed for quite a while singing Christmas songs, but finally Stuart said, “We’d better get back. I’ve got to see to the patient.”
Annie’s eyes were bright, and her face was relaxed. “Thank you, Mr. Stuart,” she said. “You done mighty fine of takin’ care of these young’uns and Miss Leah. And the singin’ was good.”
“Glad you liked it, Annie. Merry Christmas.”
They crossed back over to the house, and as they went, Stuart shielded the violin from the snow. “It ought to be pretty in the morning.”
“It won’t be Christmas without Mom there,” Raimey said. “She always makes it fun.”
“Well, we’ll just pray that maybe she can come,” Stuart said and noticed that the boy gave him a quick look of disbelief.
****
Leah was sitting up in bed. She had awakened only a brief time before and had moistened her lips with water and drunk a little. When Stuart entered with a tray, she said, “How are the kids?”
“They’re fine. Here, I want you to eat some of this.”
“I don’t really want any.”
“You’ve got to eat.”
Leah managed to eat some of the hot oatmeal and half a piece of buttered toast. “That’s all I can eat.” She hesitated, then as he took the tray and started to leave, she said, “I heard the singing downstairs. It was real nice.”
“I’m amazed at Merry. She knows the words to more Christmas songs than I do. I can’t get over how smart she is.” He then added, “We went out and cut a tree and put it up. I let them decorate it. Then we went over and sang to Merle and Annie and their young’uns. They’re doing a lot better.”
“Stuart, I bought some presents for the kids. They’re all wrapped up in the attic. Will you get them after they go to bed and put them under the tree?”
“Yes. I’ll take care of it. How do you feel?”
“I can’t complain.”
“You never do,” he said quietly. “Good night,” he said, then left the room.
Leah was lonely and restless and tired of being confined to the room, but she felt so weak that she went to sleep almost at once. She slept well that night, and upon waking the next morning, she only had a little fever. Getting better, she thought. Even as the thought came, she heard the door open. She looked up to see Stuart enter.
“How are you?”
“Better. It’s dawn. Are the kids up?”
“Yes. They’re already down there at the tree. I put the presents under like you said, and I told them they couldn’t open them until you got there.”
“Why, I can’t go down there!”
Stuart did not answer. He came over and turned the covers back and swung her feet over the bed. With the other hand he took her robe and said, “Here. Put your arms in this.”
“Stuart, I just don’t—”
“This is one time I’m going to have to insist, I’m afraid.” He grinned at her and said, “It’ll be good for you, and the kids say it’s not Christmas without you.”
Leah looked at him for a moment, then nodded. “All right. I’ll try.” She stood up and slipped her robe on, knotted the tie, then took a couple of steps. The room seemed to sway, and she cried out slightly and started falling. Instantly, she felt herself being picked up in the air.
“We’ve got a chair all fixed for you,” Stuart said. “I’ll carry you in.”
“No, Stuart, don’t!”
He stopped at the door and looked at her. Her face was wan, but the beauty that had drawn him the first time he had seen her was still there. “I carried you over a threshold once. I guess I can carry you to a chair.”
As Leah was held in his arms, she laid her head against his shoulder. She was so weak, but he was strong, and she thought, He’s always been the strongest man I’ve ever known. She felt the muscles of his chest and arms, and then they were in the living room. She heard the kids exclaiming excitedly as he moved over and gently put her into a chair.
“Grab a blanket for your mom, Raimey.”
“Sure.” Raimey dashed at once and was back with a blanket, which he spread out and put over her lap.
“Thank you, son. My, what a beautiful tree!”
“We did it all ourselves, me and Raimey.”
“That’s right,” Stuart said. “They did a fine job, didn’t they?”
“Can we open the presents now, Mama?” Merry begged. Her eyes were shining, and she was clinging to her mother’s hand.
“I think so.”
Stuart moved back and leaned against the wall, removing himself as far as possible from the scene. From time to time his eyes would go to Leah’s face to see her response as the children opened the presents. She was pale, but obviously this was good for her, and he was glad that he had done it.
Finally all the presents were opened. The kids had gotten mostly clothes, but the prize for Stuart was the look of excitement when Raimey got a jackknife and Merry got a doll.
Merry hugged the doll and said, “I’m going to name her Missy.”
“That’s a beautiful name,” Leah said.
“But you didn’t get anything, and Daddy didn’t get anything!”
“Well, Christmas is for children mostly,” Leah said.
“I’ve got a present for each of you,” Stuart said suddenly. “They’re not wrapped up proper like. I didn’t have time for that, but let me get them.”
He disappeared and came back very quickly with three packages—two small boxes and one large long package. “This is for you, sweetheart.” He gave a very small package to Merry and watched as she opened it. Merry ripped the brown paper off and then suddenly cried out with delight.
“It’s a ring!” she cried. She put it on her finger, and the red stone glowed.
“That’s a very old ring, Merry. It belonged to Nellie Winslow, your great-grandmother. Your great-grandfather Henry gave it to her when they married.”
“Oh, it’s so pretty, but it’s too big.”
“You’ll have to grow into it, honey. I’m glad you like it.”
“This is for you, Leah.”
Leah looked at the small brown package and whispered, “You shouldn’t have done it, Stuart.”
He did not answer, and Merry was saying, “See what it is, Mama.”
Unwrapping the paper, Leah found a small box. When she opened it she gasped. “How beautiful!”
“What is it, Mom?” Raimey said. He crowded in along with Merry on the other side as Leah took out a necklace with a fine gold chain and a beautiful opal.
“That necklace belonged to another Winslow. Harriet Winslow, my great-grandmother.”
“It’s so beautiful, Stuart.”
“I’m glad you like it.” Stuart took the long box and said, “This is for you, Raimey.”
Raimey took the box and glanced at his mother, who nodded at him. He ripped the paper off and opened the box, and his eyes grew large. “Why, it’s a sword!”
“Be careful. It’s very sharp,” Stuart said. He watched with pleasure as the boy took the sword and held it up. “Did it belong to one of the Winslows, too?” Raimey asked.
“Yes, it did. It belonged to Henry Winslow, your great-grandfather. You know about him?”
“Yes,” Raimey said, his eyes fixed on the keen blade that still glistened after all the years. “He died fighting in the Battle of Gettysburg.”
“That’s right. And he fought his way with that very sword. He
died fighting for freedom for all men. He was a very good man, Raimey. Hope you’ll grow up to be just like him.”
Raimey could not seem to take his eyes off the sword. “Did he really use it to fight with?”
“Yes, he did. He was a very strong, courageous man, and there have been many Winslows just like him. I hope you’ll always keep the name of Winslow clean and proud.” He hesitated and said, “Not like me.”
Leah turned her head quickly and saw that Stuart’s face was tense, and there was a deep grief in his eyes. “Where did you get all these things, Stuart?”
“From my parents. I hope you like them.”
“I’ll wear this ring every day when I get big enough,” Merry said. “Now, Daddy, play some more on your fiddle.”
“Oh, your mother’s too tired.”
“No, I’m not,” Leah said. “I’m tired of the bed.”
“After breakfast,” he said.
Stuart fixed a quick breakfast and fed the youngsters and brought a plate of soft-boiled eggs and buttered toast with jam for Leah. She ate it all and said, “Thank you, Stuart. That was good.”
“Now play, Daddy,” Merry said.
“All right, just a few. Then your mother’s got to go back to bed.”
Stuart took the fiddle out, ran the bow over the strings, and then began playing, “O Little Town of Bethlehem.” He sang along with it, and his rich baritone voice filled the room. He did not strain and Leah thought, He has the most beautiful voice of any man I’ve ever heard. She sat there listening as he played many of the old carols, and finally the fiddle was silent. He looked at her and then played one more song. She listened and closed her eyes, and when it was over, Merry spoke up.
“I never heard that Christmas carol.”
“It’s not a Christmas carol,” Stuart said.
“What is it, Daddy?”
“Just an old song. Now it’s time to get your mother to bed.”
Stuart stood up, put the fiddle down, then came over and without asking simply reached down and scooped Leah into his arms. The youngsters called after her, “Merry Christmas!” and she called back, “Merry Christmas.”
When he reached the bed, he put her down carefully, turned the covers over her, and said, “You’re tired.”
The Glorious Prodigal Page 23
