The Measure of a Heart (11 page)

“Sorry? Sorry for what? That those Bible myths told in Sunday school don’t make a bit of sense? That this—this farfetched tale of a God is all a hoax? He doesn’t exist any more than—than the Blue Fairy does. All this church business is just a way to pad some man’s pocket.”

Anna’s temper rose a bit as she thought of another dinner of vegetable stew. Pad a man’s pocket indeed! But she smiled again.

“I’m sorry—” she began again, her eyes searching the face of the poor angry and bitter woman before her.

To her surprise, Anna’s anger had changed to an attitude of love and pity. Her soft words only seemed to make the woman angrier.

Mrs. Paxton raised her cane and for one instance Anna found herself flinching and bracing for the blow.

The cane lowered again and the woman tapped the ground with all of her force.

“God took everything I had,” she spat out. “Everything. My husband. My children. Everything.”

There was a moment of strained silence. Anna began again in a soft yet firm voice. “But that’s impossible,” she said.

“Impossible? I suppose you’re going to tell me that your loving God would never let bad things happen. That—”

“No,” said Anna, shaking her head. “No, I won’t tell you that. But if He doesn’t exist, how could He possibly do all of those horrid things?”

Wide blue eyes clashed with angry brown ones. Anna held her ground. She could see the intense anger that burned in the soul of the woman as her face flushed, her body trembled. The cane in her hand rose slightly, then fell back to the ground. Without another word to Anna, she turned and hobbled as quickly as she could toward her swinging gate. Anna did not watch her go. She closed her eyes tightly and bit her lip.

Oh, Father, she prayed earnestly, did I say the wrong thing?
I had wanted so to help her—but now—now I have made an enemy. Forgive me, Father. Show me what to do.

Anna heard the gate shut with an angry bang. Then the cane rapped its way up the wooden walk.

Anna started back across the street with a heavy, guilty heart. Austin would soon be home for dinner. She had to dish up the stew and tell him about Mrs. Paxton.

The only thing that brought them a change of diet was the “calling.” Every Wednesday for sure, and often on other days when there was a special need in a home, Austin hooked the mare to the buggy and they made a call. They were usually offered a meal, sometimes both dinner and supper at two different homes. At the least, they were served tea.

Anna welcomed those times, more for Austin’s sake than her own. She almost envied the farm women who had fresh eggs and milk to cook with. What a difference it would make to their diet if she had access to farm products.

One day Austin came beaming into the kitchen.

“Guess what?” he said to Anna. “I met a new man in the store today. Mr. Parks introduced us. Told the man I was the new preacher. At first he seemed a bit distant, but we talked about the weather and the crops and such things, and when he was about to leave he said, ‘Say, Parson, I’m not really that interested in your church, but my wife sure likes to have lady company. Why don’t you and your wife come on out for supper next week?’ I nearly dropped over, right then and there.”

“Oh, Austin,” said Anna, reaching her hand out to grasp his arm. “That’s wonderful.”

To that point, their efforts to encourage more people to join their congregation had been without success. Anna knew how important the new contact was to Austin.

“We set the night for Thursday,” went on Austin, his excitement showing in his eyes.

Baking day, thought practical Anna. I will need to get up earlier to get the bread out of the way.

They were both mildly anxious as the day approached. They so wanted to make this family feel accepted and interest them in spiritual things. Anna began her bread early that morning and had it baked by one o’clock. Then she washed and prepared herself for the journey. The Lawes lived a good way out of town, and it would take them more than an hour to make the drive.

Austin appeared in the kitchen doorway from the bedroom, his Sunday suit brushed and his tie carefully arranged.

“I was wondering,” said Anna thoughtfully, standing before him in her best house dress, “if—this time—since he says he isn’t interested in church—if we should go just—just as neighbors.”

Austin’s fingers paused in their fumbling with the cuff links of his white shirt.

“What do you mean?” he asked. Before she could answer he hastened to add, “You’d better get changed. We need to be going.”

“But that’s what I mean,” Anna said. “I have changed.”

Austin looked at her, his gaze traveling up and down her cotton dress.

“I’ve decided that this once I’m going to try something different. Instead of entering a farm kitchen so dressed up in my Sunday clothes that I can’t give a hand with the supper lest I get chicken fat on my dress, I’m going prepared to help.”

Austin looked dubious but Anna held her ground. “And I was wondering if maybe you should wear one of your—your older suits—or even a pair of work pants so you could—could go with the man to the barn—maybe fork a bit of hay to the cows—or—or carry a bucket of water to the pigs.”

Anna stopped and watched carefully for Austin’s reaction. He looked at her as if he thought she had lost her mind.

“But a pastor is supposed to be . . . a little different from the rest of his people. Set an example. There’s a standard that needs to be maintained. We represent the Lord. We were taught—”

“It was just a thought,” said Anna with a shrug of her shoulders. “I can change quickly while you get the buggy.”

But Austin stared at her for a moment, his face losing its doubtful expression. “It’s worth a try,” he said finally. “Nothing else has worked. We’ve called at almost every home in the community—and not one more person has been added to the church.” He nodded and said again, “It’s worth a try.”

Austin made haste to change from his Sunday suit.

“Is this all right?” he asked as he rejoined Anna in the kitchen.

Anna looked at him and smiled at his flannel shirt and carefully mended work pants. He hardly even looked like a pastor.

Then doubts began to assail her. Maybe this was a serious mistake. She wrapped a loaf of the fresh bread in a snowy white dish towel, praying inwardly that she wouldn’t spoil things for Austin. Oh, if only she were wiser about being a minister’s wife.

In spite of Anna’s second thoughts about her suggestion, the visit went well. Anna presented her loaf of fresh bread and moved easily into the kitchen to help with the supper preparations. Austin walked casually to the barn with the farmer, chatting comfortably about the livestock as they went. Anna, looking from the kitchen window, saw Austin slopping the pigs and forking hay. She smiled and prayed that God would give wisdom to both her and her husband.

Charles and Mandy Lawes had four young children. Anna made friends with them immediately. The three boys brought a longing to see her own brothers again and the little girl captured Anna’s heart, chattering as though she had known her all her life.

The supper hour was friendly and sociable. The children were well behaved at the table, and the adults were able to visit easily. When the meal finally ended and Anna had helped with the dishes, Austin announced that they must get started back to town. It was a long drive and they would be making part of it by moonlight.

No mention was made of the little congregation that desperately longed to reach out to those who did not attend church.

“Just a minute,” said Mrs. Lawes as she scurried about her kitchen. “Have some of this fresh milk. And some eggs—Charles, get some eggs from the milk house.”

Anna felt tears sting her eyes.

“The next time we’re in town, we’ll pick up the pail and bring you more,” promised the woman, and Anna was afraid that the tears would spill over.

“Thank you so much,” she murmured sincerely as she accepted the gifts.

“They are nice people, aren’t they?” Anna commented as they drove toward the small town. She held the eggs in her lap, unwilling that even one should be cracked or broken.

“They are,” nodded Austin.

“They’ve asked us back again,” Anna went on.

“Do you think we did wrong in not talking about the Lord or the church?” asked Austin soberly.

“I don’t know,” said Anna quietly, shaking her head. Austin was the one who knew such things. “I—I think that if you should have spoken—God would have shown you. I—I mean—you didn’t hold back because—because you were ashamed or—or uncaring or anything.”

Anna hesitated.

“Every other call, we’ve made our position clear,” went on Austin. “I would hate to think that I failed by not expressing my faith now.”

“I think that it’s important for them to feel—loved—accepted—as they are. As God gives us opportunity we will share our faith. We’ll pray for that.”

Austin nodded and clucked to the mare.

Chapter Ten

Reaching Out

Humming contentedly to herself, Anna lifted the sweet-smelling custard pudding from the oven. She couldn’t wait to taste it. It had taken the last of her eggs and milk, but it would be worth it. It had been so long since she had been able to serve her husband a dessert. She could hardly wait to see the look on his face.

Her mouth responded to the delicious aroma. But she steeled her resolve to wait till she and Austin could taste it together and put the bowl in the kitchen window to cool.

Before she could turn from the window, she noticed Mrs. Paxton hobbling down the street, her cane thumping the board sidewalk and her face set in discontent.

“Poor soul,” breathed Anna. “I have never seen such a living picture of misery.”

Just as the thought raced through Anna’s mind, she saw the woman stop and turn slightly. Her head lifted and Anna saw the wrinkled face wrinkle even farther as the woman sniffed the morning air. She stopped, turned farther, and sniffed again.

She smells my custard, thought Anna and reached to remove the dish from the window. It seemed cruel to torment the woman with the smell.

“I wish I had more eggs and milk,” she said to herself. “I’d make her some.”

As the custard cooled, Anna could not get the face of the old woman, her nose lifting to inhale deeply, from her mind. It was almost time for Austin to return for supper before Anna made up her mind. She lifted two dishes from the cupboard and filled one as full as she could. That would be for Austin. Then she spooned the remainder in the second dish, laid aside her apron, and started across the street.

Mrs. Paxton answered the knock, her usual scowl on her weathered face almost making Anna back away. But she held her ground, her smile determinedly in place.

“I—I made some custard for supper,” Anna said simply. “I brought you some.”

The expression on the face before her did not change—though Anna thought she might have glimpsed a brief light flash in the eyes and she definitely saw the nose twitch. Without a word the woman reached out, accepted the dish, and closed her door.

Anna turned and walked back through the dust of the street to her own kitchen. Though her mouth had been watering all day, Anna willed away all longing for the dessert. She really didn’t need it. Stew would do just fine.