Julia's Last Hope (13 page)

“Then no one is short of supplies?” Julia asked.

“Supplies, yes. Vegetables and meat, no,” answered Mrs. Clancy.

“We don’t have much flour or tea. Salt is getting low. Baking things are in short supply,” said Mrs. Adams.

“I’ll check what I have,” Julia promised. “Perhaps we have a bit to spare.” Heads dropped slightly. Julia knew the women were not used to charity, so she hastened to explain. “We can work out some means of exchange. Perhaps grocery items in exchange for a lace collar or linen handkerchiefs. I can put the items back into the craft shop and sell them next year.”

The women brightened. That seemed fair.

“Perhaps I can make arrangements with Mr. Perry at the store. I will leave money on account, and you can make your purchases and leave the payment for me to pick up.” Julia referred briefly to the notes she held in her hand. “Now, Mrs. Clancy, have you a date regarding school opening?”

“Still no word,” Mrs. Clancy answered. “I wrote—I even put through a wire—but nothing.”

“Oh my,” said Julia. “It is late—”

“I know, but there’s nothing more I can do about it.”

“Of course,” Julia replied. “Thank you for doing all you could.”

“I—I’m afraid I have some bad news too,” announced Mrs. Wright, the pastor’s wife. All eyes turned toward her.

“We—we just received word that we are to be moved to another parish.”

Shocked looks, shadowed faces turned toward Mrs. Wright.

“Who will come to take your place?” asked Julia.

“That’s the difficulty,” said Mrs. Wright. “They won’t be sending anyone. They want to—to close the church.”

“Close the church? But we need the church, especially now. How can they close it?” Julia asked.

“Well, they feel the congregation is too small to—”

“But there are still eight or nine—maybe even a dozen families in town,” Julia interrupted.

“Yes,” agreed the woman, studying her embroidered handkerchief. “But only three families come.”

It was true. Only the Adams family joined the Harrigans and Tom and Hettie at church on Sunday mornings.

“When will you leave? When will the church close?” Julia asked.

“The end of the year.”

“Surely we can do something before then to make them change their minds. We’ve lost so much already. We can’t give up our church too. What if attendance increased? Would they leave it open?”

“I—I don’t know. They might.”

“We need the church,” Julia said again to her neighbors. “We need a minister here for the difficult times—now more than ever. We can’t let the church go.”

Some nodded, others looked away, unwilling to meet Julia’s gaze.

“We’ll see what we can do between now and the end of the year,”

Julia assured Mrs. Wright. Then with a trembling voice she announced tea was ready.

That night, after they had gone to bed, Julia told John the news.

“John, we can’t let the church go. We just can’t. We need it. Our children need it. The whole town needs it. What if—what if someone were to get sick or—or die?”

John nodded in agreement. “So how can we save it?”

“We have to increase the attendance.”

“Jule, folks have moved, and there is still nothing to bring them back.”

“I’m not talking about them,” said Julia. “I’m talking about the ones who are still here. There must be thirty or so still in town. That would be enough to keep a church open, don’t you think?”

“It would if they all went to church, Jule, but they don’t. The church has been here for years, and so have they, and they only go on special occasions. How can we change that?”

“They need the church,” Julia insisted. “More than ever, they need the church. I don’t know how they ever manage to get along without it—without God. Especially now that things are so hard. How do they get by without prayer, John? What do they do when they need answers?”

John just shook his head in the darkness.

“Well, it has dawned on me that I haven’t been doing my job,” said Julia softly. “Here I am, trying to save their homes, their possessions, their—their way of life—and I haven’t even been thinking about saving their souls.”

There was silence in the room.

“What do you plan to do?” John asked at last.

“I—I don’t know. I wish I knew. I need to do some praying. A lot of praying. Perhaps God will show me. Show us.”

Silence again. John, too, was thinking on Julia’s words.

“I don’t know why I didn’t realize it earlier,” went on Julia. “For—for some reason I—I guess I thought that believing—going to church—trying to live right—was enough. It’s not, John. Not when your neighbors don’t know—don’t understand about—about God.”

John drew her close. “We’ll pray, Jule,” he said softly, “for the people who are left. Maybe there is still something we can do for them. We might not be able to help them find work, but maybe we can help them find God.”

Julia nodded her head against John’s chest. Tears trickled from her eyes onto his pajamas.

“I—I hope we’re not too late,” she whispered in the darkness.

Julia stopped at Mr. Perry’s store the next morning. She pushed open the squeaky door and stepped inside.

“Good morning, Mrs. Harrigan,” the elderly bachelor greeted her.

“Good morning, Mr. Perry.”

“So how is the committee doin’?”

“We haven’t had a very good summer,” Julia admitted. “I hope things will improve next year.” Julia let her eyes travel over the shelves. Stock was very low. She remembered when the shelves had been crowded with merchandise. Sudden fear gripped her.

“You—you wouldn’t be planning to move, would you, Mr. Perry?” she asked, keeping her voice as even as she could.

Mr. Perry let his eyes travel over the shelves. He understood her concern.

“Me? Never. Not me,” he hastened to explain. “I got no place else to go. This here spot is mine—bought and paid for. Don’t have much laid aside—but it’s enough. Don’t take much for me to live on. I can order in the supplies I’m needin’ and pick them up at the train. Live cheaper here than any other place I know. ’Sides,” he finished softly, “I like it here.”

Julia was glad to hear that.

“Just don’t need to keep as much stock on the shelves no more. Folks ain’t buyin’ like they used to.”

“Perhaps it will pick up again,” Julia said, her fears relieved. She produced her money from the sale of the linen tablecloth and explained her mission. “The money won’t go far—not nearly far enough, but it’s the best I can do—for the present.”

“Be glad to accommodate,” Mr. Perry said. “Very nice of you, Mrs. Harrigan.”

Julia picked up the few items she needed and left for home. She was relieved to have the matter cared for, though it had been difficult to leave behind so much of her income when her family needed it so badly.

Well, the others need it more,
she told herself as she walked home in the warmth of the autumn sun.
God will supply—in plenty of time—as the need arises.

Two days later Julia heard loud knocking at the front door. She hurried to answer, for it sounded urgent. There stood Mrs. Clancy, her face red, her chest heaving from overexertion. Although she was out of breath, she started talking before Julia even had a chance to invite her in.

“The wire just came through,” she panted. “The wire about school starting.”

“Oh yes,” said Julia. “Come in. Let’s hear the news.”

Mrs. Clancy did come in, but it was clear that she did not intend to sit down for a visit. She waved the wire beneath Julia’s nose.

“Right here,” she stated.

“When?” asked Julia. “When will the children be going back to school? The girls will be excited. I can hardly wait to tell them.”

“See for yourself,” said Mrs. Clancy, and she pushed the telegram in front of Julia for her to read.

IN REPLY STOP NO TEACHER FOR SCHOOL STOP TOO FEW PUPILS STOP

“What?” She looked at Mrs. Clancy. “What does this mean? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“They aren’t starting school at all,” said Mrs. Clancy. “They think our youngsters don’t matter. We won’t be having school this year. What do we do now, Mrs. Harrigan? What do we do now?”

Chapter Fifteen

Winter

John talked about sending the girls away for school, but both he and Julia knew there was no money for such a venture—important as they believed it to be.

“We’ll borrow some books from the schoolhouse,” Julia decided, as though it were a simple matter. “They are good students. It won’t set them back to study for one year on their own. Next year we may have our school back.”

John nodded. It seemed all they could do for the present.

Julia assigned daily portions for study. She spent three hours every morning going over lessons with the girls.

At first it seemed fun, even exciting, but the excitement soon wore off. Julia tried to think of ways to make the lessons interesting, but she had too many other things on her mind.

Winter came early. Julia was thankful that John and Tom had already dug the potatoes and pulled the remaining carrots. They could ill afford to have vegetables under the snow rather than in the root cellar.

On each of the first days of snow, John and Tom shouldered their rifles and took to the forested hillsides, hoping to bring home meat. Day after day they tramped through the frosted world, but each time they returned discouraged and empty-handed.

Jim Shannon was the first to have success in winter hunting. He brought a large venison roast to the Harrigans. Julia was glad for the meat. They had been dining on vegetables for a number of days.

“Portion it out, Hettie,” Julia advised. “We don’t know how long it will be until we get more.”

Hettie followed instructions, reserving enough meat for stews and pot pies for several days.

John worked hard to build up the wood supply; then he left on an extended hunting trip. On his fourth day he returned with a yearling elk. It was an answer to prayer for Julia. But after dividing it among the townsfolk, she realized that the remaining portion would not last long.

But then Mac Pendleton got a small buck, and Jim Shannon shot another.

Julia began to relax.
With so many men hunting we are sure to have something for the stew pots,
she reasoned.

How to save the church topped Julia’s list of concerns.
We need the church so people will have a chance to hear the Gospel,
she kept telling herself. She organized a ladies’ afternoon meeting and sent out personal invitations for Sunday services. Then she arranged special events for the children during Sunday school.

The response was not good. Few people seemed to notice. They enjoyed her afternoon meetings, and some of them even sent their children to the Sunday school classes. But they seemed no more interested in the church than they had in the past.

“Frankly, I don’t know what else to do,” Julia confided to John. “Do you suppose a club program would help?”

“I’ll talk to the pastor,” John promised. “Perhaps he’ll have some ideas.”

But Pastor Wright had no ideas either. “We have tried and tried to get the people interested,” he sighed. “There just doesn’t seem to be any concern for spiritual things. Most folks who supported the church moved when the mill closed.”

“Well, we’ll just keep working—and praying,” John promised. “Perhaps it’s not too late.”

John talked to some of the men, trying to convince them that letting the church close was as bad as having the mill shut down. But the blank stares he got in response told him the men had no idea what he was talking about. They did not understand why anyone would worry about religion when just getting food on the table consumed all their energies. They did not consider spiritual needs as important as physical needs.

Julia appealed to the women at her committee meetings, but she too received only blank stares in response to her pleas. The women didn’t seem to feel that church was important.

Try as they might, John and Julia couldn’t get anyone interested.

“Don’t you care? Don’t you even care?” Julia wanted to say, but their attitude answered the question for her.