A Quiet Strength (16 page)

“If you could only see the help that is available,” said Virginia. “But I can’t make that decision for you. How I wish I could, but the choice is yours.”

“I’ll … think about it.”

This was not what Virginia had hoped for, but at least it was a start. It was the first time Jenny had ever promised to give any kind of consideration to the need of her soul.

Jenny stayed with them for three days. In all that time Mindy ignored her. And Jenny did not try to make up to the little girl. Virginia did not know if she was sad or glad at the lack of interchange between the two.

“Do you want to tell Mindy that you are her real mama?” she had asked Jenny as they sat before the fire on the first evening. Mindy had already been tucked in for the night.

Jenny had looked up. She shook her head slowly. “I don’t think that would be true,” she said at last. Then, “From what I’ve seen, you are her real mama. I just gave her birth.”

Virginia felt tears burning her eyes.

“She has changed,” went on Jenny. “You’ve been good for her, Virginia. You and Jonathan. I think it’s best to leave things that way. It would only stir things up if we were to talk about me as her mama. Perhaps when she’s older. We’ll see.”

So they had left it. Mindy did not ask questions concerning Jenny, and no one volunteered the information.

On the third day, Jenny packed her case and asked Jonathan for a ride to town. It nearly broke Virginia’s heart. She was filled with sadness that Jenny was choosing the wrong way again.

“You promised to think about what I said,” she reminded Jenny as she gave her a good-bye embrace.

Jenny nodded, and then she was gone.

CHAPTER  16

Virginia could not sleep that night. She went over and over her conversations with Jenny. Two things troubled her: Jenny’s refusal to see that there was hope and freedom in accepting God’s forgiveness and deliverance from her bondage, and then her own words, which spoke truth to her heart. She thoroughly believed all that she had said to Jenny. Yet why was she unable to live it? We have choices, she had explained to her old friend, not always over our circumstances but over our attitude toward them. Yet here she was locked in despair and depression over her own situation. Virginia knew that it didn’t make sense. Either she believed what she said, or she did not. And if she believed it, she ought to be able to live it.

On through the night hours she struggled. She would have left her bed and gone downstairs to pray, but she was afraid she would disturb Grandmother Withers. So she stayed where she was, hoping her restlessness did not bother Jonathan.

Tears dampened her pillow. She was a hypocrite. She had told Jenny that God was there. That He helped her through times of trial. That there was always hope, for there was always choice. God did not allow that to be taken away. And where there was choice, one could reach out, could go beyond the bonds of circumstance, could find a way of escape from the temptation of accepting defeat. She wasn’t the first person in the world to have a difficult lot. Nor would she be the last. They weren’t the first couple ever to face economic hardship. Yet here she was wallowing in self-pity. Angry with Jonathan for things beyond his control. Resentful of a grandmother for breaking her leg and causing more stress on an already burdened household. It was ridiculous—her behavior, her attitude. Why did she strike out at those she loved? Let bitterness gnaw away at her soul? She knew better. She knew she had chosen foolishly. She was creating much of her own trouble.

Virginia could stand it no longer. She slipped from her bed and knelt on the rag rug. With tears of repentance she began to pray. The night air was cold and she shivered against the chill, but she scarcely noticed. She was far too intense in making peace with her God.

As she prayed, her heavy burden lifted. She would not give in to despair again. There was a way out of their present situation. God was faithful. Perhaps it would indeed mean leaving the farm, but she would no longer try to manipulate things her way. She and Jonathan together would work through what to do. She would tell him first thing in the morning that she would stop her stewing and fretting and leave the final decision with him and with God.

Virginia rose from her kneeling position. But before she went back to bed, she crossed the hallway and entered Mindy’s room. Again she knelt. “God, this is your child. I give her to you in a new way tonight. Give me love and patience and understanding … and wisdom, Lord. I need wisdom. But help me to remember that you are even more concerned about this little one than I am. You lead her, Lord. You work in her little heart and soul to free her of her past and lead her into a bright future full of promise and right choices. Help me not to fret and stew and confine her to the person that I think she should be but give you the freedom to work in her life.”

Silently Virginia tiptoed down the stairs. She crossed to the bed where Grandmother Withers’ regular breathing told her that she was sleeping soundly. “Lord,” she prayed silently, “thank you for Grandmother Withers. I love her. She has been a blessing in my life. Help me to be patient and loving. Help her leg to heal. May she be able to be active again. To enjoy her garden. To work in her own kitchen. But until that time, Lord, may she find happiness here with us. May she feel wanted and loved … and even needed in this home. Thank you for bringing her here to us.”

Virginia made her way back up the stairs. She was beginning to feel the cold of the house on a winter’s night. But before returning to the warmth of her bed she stopped at Martha’s cradle. The glow from the moonlight cast a soft shine over the baby’s features. One small fist lay curled by her cheek. She pursed her lips and mimicked sucking, and Virginia knew it would not be long before she would be wanting to nurse again. Virginia’s hand reached down to rest on the blankets. “God, thank you for our beautiful, healthy baby. She has already brought us so much joy. Help me to be the mother you intended for her. Give me wisdom and patient love all of her days as I seek to guide her to you. Help me to live what I believe so that she, too, might become a believer. Amen.”

With one final pat of the baby’s blankets, Virginia wiped her tears and turned to her bed. But before she crawled once more beneath the blankets she knelt again.

“Lord, I thank you for Jonathan. For his love. His gentleness. His strength. Thank you for bringing him here to share my life. Be with him through this present difficulty. Give him wisdom about what is to be done. Help me to support him in that decision—whatever it might be. Help me to remember that we are a couple. That we walk together. As a team, Lord. Not as two separate individuals, but as you have admonished, ‘In honour preferring one another.’ Thinking of one another. Supporting one another. Living for one another. Then we will find the happiness that you have for us. I love him, Lord. Deeply. Bless him—even as he sleeps. Amen.”

Virginia climbed carefully back into bed, tr ying not to disturb Jonathan. He needed his rest. She needed hers, also. Tomorrow would be another long day. She was ready now to sleep.

“Grandmother says she wants to go to town,” Virginia told Jonathan as he hung up his jacket.

“To town?” He turned, sounding as surprised as Virginia had been when Grandmother Withers had made her request.

Virginia nodded.

“Why on earth? How does she expect to manage that?” he asked, moving to the corner basin to wash up before breakfast.

Virginia shook her head. “I’ve no idea. But she insists there is something she needs to attend to.”

Jonathan’s voice lowered. “How will we even get her to the car? That cast is nearly as heavy as she is.”

“Well—we must try to find a way. It seems important to her.”

Previously Virginia would have chafed over the unreasonable request. This morning, after her night of prayer, she felt much more calm. More serene. Even this strange notion of Grandmother Withers’ could not disturb her.

“Any ideas?” Jonathan splashed the warm water over his face and neck and sudsed his hands thoroughly. He reached for the towel.

“Not really. Maybe the two of us could carry her. That’s how you and Father got her in here.”

Jonathan nodded. “I’ll talk to her.”

But at the present, Mindy was talking to her—an occurrence that was happening much more frequently of late. Virginia could hear the small voice from the living room andguessed that she was likely leaning up against the bed where the woman rested.

“ … and I used to feed the chickens—all by myself.”

“But you don’t anymore.”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Because. Because I don’t want to be a help to Mama.”

Virginia nearly stopped in her tracks. So the child had a reason. A reason that she was fully aware of. She had stopped doing her chores as punishment to Virginia for bringing a new baby into the home.
My, but we do start making choices early
, thought Virginia with a wry smile.

But Grandmother Withers was speaking. “Did it make you feel happier not to help Mama?”

There was silence, then a reluctant “I was still mad.” “Don’t you miss saying good-morning to the chickens and the kittens? And Murphy? I’ll bet they’ve been missing you.”

“Maybe,” conceded Mindy.

“Maybe you should feed them this morning and see if it makes them happy.”

“What about Mama?”

“I think it would make your mama happy, too.”

“But she’s gonna keep Martha.”

“Martha is part of the family. We can’t give Martha away. Did you see Martha smile when you walked by her cradle yesterday?”

“No.”

“I did. I think Martha likes her big sister. She …” The porridge needed stirring. Virginia could not catch the rest of the conversation. But she was not too surprised when after breakfast Mindy slid from her chair and announced that she would be feeding the chickens.

It took them both to get Grandmother Withers out to the motorcar. Jonathan had pulled it in as close to the steps as he could. Even so, it took some effort to get the elderly woman out of her bed, through the kitchen, and across the porch and into the backseat. They were finally able to cradle their arms beneath her, forming a seat of sorts to carry her. Virginia felt certain that the whole effort must have been very difficult for Grandmother Withers, as well, but the woman bit her lip and endured whatever pain was involved.

Thankfully it was a rather pleasant day. There was no wind blowing, and the sun’s bright rays even held the hint of coming spring. Virginia took deep breaths of the fresh, clear air. It seemed like a long time since she had been outdoors other than to hang laundry or feed the small animals. Today she would go to town, too. So far Grandmother had not disclosed her destination, but they assumed she wanted to check on her little house.

All four of them had to crowd into the front seat because Grandmother Withers needed the backseat to make room for her cast. Virginia held baby Martha and pressed Mindy up close against her side so Jonathan would have room to shift the gears.

Even though the day was sunny, the trip into town was a chilly one. The car heater tried valiantly to keep the temperature comfortable. Virginia rapidly tapped her feet now and then to try to keep them warm and was glad they’d had the foresight to tuck Grandmother Withers in with blankets.

When they neared the town limits, Grandmother spoke. “Take me round on Fourth Street. To Mrs. Cadbury’s place.” Jonathan turned in his seat to look back at his grandmother. Virginia feared he might drive them into the ditch.

Mrs. Cadbury was the widow lady whom Jonathan had hired to care for his grandmother before her fall. “Now, Grand mother. You’re not thinking of doing something silly, are you?” he asked. “You know that Mrs. Cadbury only has three days a week free.”

“I know that.”

Surely Grandmother Withers was not about to insist on going back to her own house with her leg still in the cast. It was unthinkable. She would never be able to manage on her own, and they would be worried day and night.

“You wouldn’t …?” began Jonathan. “No. I wouldn’t.”

“Good.”

Jonathan was able to return his attention to driving.

They drove to Mrs. Cadbury’s tall brownstone house and struggled once more to get Grandmother Withers out of the car. Mindy was assigned the task of making sure Martha did not roll from the car seat onto the floor. She took the job most seriously. “Don’t you wiggle, Martha,” Virginia heard her say. “You’d get a bump.”

It seemed to take a long time to maneuver Grandmother up the steps and into Mrs. Cadbury’s living room. All three of them were exhausted by the time the task was completed. “That’s just fine,” Grandmother Withers said with a relieved sigh as she was settled on the settee, a footstool propping up her leg cast. Mrs. Cadbury bustled about preparing tea for her unexpected guest.

“You can come back for me in an hour,” Grandmother told the two.

They exchanged puzzled looks, but Jonathan gave a nod and Virginia turned to go, anxious to get back to the car and the children.

“No,” Grandmother Withers called just before they stepped through the door. “You’d better make that two hours.”

“Now, what is that all about?” Jonathan asked as they walked down the steps.

“I’ve no idea.”

“She didn’t say anything?”

“Not a word—except that it was urgent to get to town.”

“Grandmother wouldn’t be owing her money.”

Virginia knew that was true. Jonathan had paid to have the lady’s help for his grandmother.

Jonathan shrugged. “Maybe she was just feeling lonesome. Needed a tea party.”

Virginia thought back over the days that had passed since Grandmother Withers had been with them. She had cared—sometimes reluctantly—for the older woman’s needs. But she certainly had not provided tea parties. Guilt stained her cheeks. She would try harder to make things pleasant in the future.