Like Gold Refined (22 page)

“ They both laughed.

“We told her we were going to keep James, too, and that made her feel better.”

“You’d keep them all, wouldn’t you—no matter how many you had?”

Virginia, surprised by the question and the earnest tone, quickly said, “Yes. Yes, of course I’d keep them all.”

Mindy seemed to think about that for a long moment. “Mama Jenny loved me,” she finally said quietly. “After we had … been together … she loved me then. She told me. She said she was sorry she’d given me away.”

“I’m sure she was.”

“She said you loved me, too. And Papa. She said that was good—to have so many people who loved me. She said I was fortunate.” Her tongue tripped slightly over the word.

“What was it like—the days with Mama Jenny?” prompted Virginia gently. “Do you want to talk about it?”

And Mindy did. She poured out all her fears, her frustrations, her lack of knowledge of how to run a home, care for an invalid, and live in a city. She concluded by saying, “Mama Jenny wouldn’t let me write you or phone you, and I didn’t know anyone else and I didn’t even know where to get food or what Mama Jenny could eat. I was really scared. Then, at last, she said that I could write to Grandpa Woods. I was so glad.”

Virginia just held her while they both wept. She felt the shiver pass through the small frame. “You did very well,” she informed the child. “Many grown-ups would not have been able to do what you did. You were so brave—and I’m very proud of you. Your Mama Jenny was proud of you, too. Papa and I both love you—very much.”

From then on the haunted look seemed to fade from Mindy’s expression, and she settled confidently back into the Lewis family.

“The folks have finally agreed to leave the farm.” Belinda sounded so relieved. Virginia said nothing.

“I was out to see them yesterday, and Mama brought the subject up herself. She said they had talked about it and decided they couldn’t be stubborn any longer. They know that things can’t go on as they have been. Even poor old Mr. Simcoe can no longer care for all of their needs.”

“They’re moving into town—with you?” Virginia finally found her tongue.

Belinda nodded. Her face had lost much of its strained look.

“When?”

“Just as soon as we can get them moved. I plan to go out and pick them up the early part of next week. I’ll just bring their personal things. We can empty the house at our own convenience.”

Empty the house,
Virginia’s mind echoed.
Empty the house. Just as if it were only … ordinary things. Not years and years of precious memories. How can you empty that?
she mourned.
How do you sort through and discard what has been part of your life? In which pile do you toss the worn baby shoes … the faded petals of handpicked bouquets … the pictures crayoned by childish hands?
Virginia could not let herself think more about it. “Maybe I could help … some,” she said when she could speak again.

“There’s no hurry, dear. Nobody will be moving into the house. At least not right away.”

All through the day Virginia carried the news about her grandparents like a heavy load upon her shoulders. She retired that night with the burden still there. She still did not want it to happen—but her mother was right. It was for the best. It had to be.

Life keeps changing
, she heard the echo of her own words to the troubled young Mindy.
Things never stay the same. People grow old.

Yes, yes they do. I hate it—but they do. They grow old … and more precious. But we can’t stop time. We have to let them go. We have to
.

Virginia’s heavy heart kept her from immediate sleep.

The next morning she decided to head for the farm. It was a Saturday, and the children were home from school. Jonathan promised to work inside so she wouldn’t have to take the children. She wanted one more time when she could visit the farm while her grandparents were still there to welcome her. One more chat around the familiar kitchen table. One more opportunity to feel the love and the warmth as she had known it for all of those years.
Please, God, once more
.

She cried on the way but managed to get herself under con? trol before she pulled into the driveway. She gazed at everything through new eyes. The old barn that housed the new kittens, the apple tree where she had sat and read and munched on green apples, the swing where she had played with her cousins or chatted with her grandfather. It was all so familiar—yet today so strange.

She was welcomed as she always was. With arms of love and bright faces. This time she was the one who prepared the tea and placed the cookies she had brought on one of her grandmother’s china plates. It was the first time she had noticed the little chips along the edge. Many years of service had left their mark.

“Pa said this mornin’ thet we should have a goin’-out party,” chuckled Marty from her spot at the table. “He said folks are always talkin’ ’bout comin’-out parties, so maybe we should have a goin’-out one.”

Virginia looked across at her grandfather. He was chuck? ling, too.

“I says to him, ‘An’ who’s gonna do the cookin’? Me or you?’ “ They both laughed again as though it was the funniest joke they’d heard.

“He didn’t volunteer none, so I guess this is it, huh, Pa? This is our goin’-out party.”

Virginia was relieved that her aging grandparents could face the great change in their lives in such good humor. At the same time she wished to stop them and say,
Don’t you know what this means? Don’t you understand that everything will be different—and there’s no going back?

But of course they knew. They knew far more about life than she. They had lived through the tough times and the good times. They knew all about changes.

She took her seat at the table and reached for the frail, soft hands on either side of her and listened once again while her grandfather prayed. She had no cause to worry about a man who could pray like that—or the woman who sat across the table,
amen
ing every petition to the Lord. They might be weak of body—but, oh my, they were so strong in faith. Virginia chastised herself for her gloomy thoughts and decided to enjoy this last visit.

“Mama is excited,” she heard herself saying.

Her grandmother’s eyes sparkled. “Is rather exciting. I says to Pa, ‘Jest think, the next move we git to make might be to glory.’ I’m lookin’ right forward to thet. These old bones, all they know to do anymore is to ache.”

Virginia looked up at her grandfather, who was nodding his agreement. “No wooden legs up there,” he said, and his eyes were shining with unshed tears.

After all her time of denial—of fighting—of resisting this moment of change, suddenly Virginia was able to nod her head in understanding and acceptance. In her heart, because of her love, she released them to God.

It was an absolutely beautiful day. The sun shone down as though smiling on the world, warm fingers caressing childish heads at play. The breeze played hopscotch. Lifting a flower head here, whispering a secret there, dancing its way through the yard. Virginia sat on the step, drinking in the day. She had just finished pegging the last of the washing to the line and now was taking a bit of a rest. Not totally because she needed it, but more because she enjoyed it. Before her the children played. Martha busily scolded James for some childish offense. Olivia sang a little tune she had learned in Sunday school as she scooped sand into a red pail that had lost both its color and smooth sides over the years of play. Nearby Mindy was brushing the silky sides of Buttercup, who had just taken her for a ride. Murphy lay on the ground, pretending to be finding nourishment in a well-chewed bone. In the distance Virginia could hear the faint
thump-thump
of hammers as Jonathan and Slate busily worked on the new house.

Virginia sighed. For the moment her world seemed perfect. Mindy took Buttercup to the corral and slipped off her bridle. The horse flicked her tail and moved off but turned to look at the girl as though reluctant to leave her. “Go on,” Virginia heard her say. “Go join the others.”

“James, don’t put dirt on Murphy,” Olivia’s voice cut into the silence, and she set to work awkwardly brushing at the dog’s coat. Murphy just turned, rolled his eyes, then went back to chewing on his bone.

Mindy crossed to where Virginia sat and lowered herself beside her. “Tired, Mama?”

Virginia put out a hand and brushed back Mindy’s hair. “Not really,” she smiled. “Just sitting … enjoying. Everything is so … so just right.”

Mindy looked around as though only now noticing the sunshine and the playing children and the contented horses feeding in the corral beyond.

She turned again to Virginia and nodded her agreement that everything was perfect. “I was afraid that you were tired … because of the baby.”

Virginia
was
tired because of the baby. The due date was getting near. It was hard to move about and keep up to her usual tasks.

“A little,” she admitted. “But it’s worth it.”

Mindy smiled, seeming to understand. “Do you know what?” she said after a moment of silence. “I’m getting kind of excited. About the baby, I mean. It’s going to be fun to … to find out who it is and if it’ll be like Martha or Olivia or James.”

“Maybe this one will be different—than any of them.”

“That would be fun, too.”

Virginia reached out a hand and drew Mindy up against her side. “I’ve been thinking—about the baby. We need to pick a name. I was thinking … if it’s a girl … I’d like to call her Jenny. What do you think?”

Mindy’s eyes began to shine. She nodded her head. But she did not speak.

Virginia pulled her closer and the girl’s hand reached out until it rested on the growing baby. Virginia knew her old? est child had already claimed this new little one—whoever it turned out to be, as an important and already loved member of the family. Her family.

EPILOGUE

W
e have traveled for many years with the Davis family, sharing the joys and the heartaches, watching the family grow—and diminish. The steadfast faith that they have shared is an echo of my faith testimony. God can be trusted.

And now, in response to requests from many readers, “Please don’t let Clark and Marty die,” we must leave them in the hands of God, as we must do with our own families. For life moves on. Years bring change and the inevitable must eventually happen.

Some of life’s lessons are not easy. It helps to know that God has a plan—for our good and His glory—and if we are obedient we can walk the way, however long or short, rocky or flower-strewn, confident that He is with us.

It also helps to know that we can entrust our family members to Him, as well. Through each generation, each individual must discover a personal faith for himself or herself. But that faith is available—it is within reach. As parents and grand? parents, we must try to instill in them—our followers—a desire to reach out, to accept, what God is so anxious to impart—salvation through Jesus Christ, our Guide and Comforter for whatever life holds.

Meet Kim Vogel Sawyer. Historical Fiction in the Tradition of Janette Oke.

Orphaned and separated from her siblings, eight-year old Maelle vows she will reunite with them one day. Seventeen years later, time has washed away her hope… and memories. What are Mattie and Molly doing now? Will she ever see her brother and sister again?

My Heart Remembers

When money gets tight, Harley takes a job with the Works Progress Administration away from home. But when the promised money never arrives, his wife fears Harley may be gone for good. Is the distance between them measured by more than miles?

Where Willows Grow

After losing her family to illness, Summer Steadman is hired by a Mennonite farmer to teach his young son. But widower Peter Ollenburger soon discovers that helping this outsider may have troublesome consequences.

Waiting for Summer’s Return