Julia's Last Hope (17 page)

The stillness hung heavy in the room. “I wouldn’t have known—a few years ago,” said Victor Adams. “A person needs to walk with God, to pray and read the Word, before he can know when God speaks and where He is leading. You might need to take that important first step toward God—accept Him as Savior—before you can hear Him speak to you, Mrs. Greenwald.”

Mrs. Greenwald nodded in assent.

John was quick to seize the opportunity. “Would you like to come into the east parlor?” he asked. “We will show you how you can take that first step—to become a child of God.”

She nodded again, her eyes misting.

“Victor and Ruth, will you join me?” John invited. “Julia, do you want to come?”

Julia decided to look after her other guests. After all, what if someone else expressed an interest in taking the same step of faith? “I had better stay here,” she whispered to John.

Hettie and Tom went to get the coffee and scones. Julia addressed the remaining congregation. “We will all miss Victor and Ruth when they leave us,” she began. “I don’t know when they are planning to go—but maybe we can have a potluck dinner for them before they do. I am going to be quite busy this week. I just received a letter, and I have guests coming in—for a few days at least. The length of their stay is still indefinite. But I am sure I could find time to bid our dear friends goodbye.

“And I did mean every word of what I said a few minutes ago,” she continued. “We want the best for each family here. If that means a move elsewhere—then we—you must be free to go. School should be starting, and we have no school for our children again. I don’t know how much we can teach them. So all of you—do what you can, what you must. Those of us who remain behind, we understand.”

Hettie set down the cups and saucers, and Tom placed the large coffee pot on the table beside them. Julia nodded to Felicity and Jennifer to start serving. Soon the room was a hum of chatter. Julia slipped out to the parlor to join John and the others.

She was met by a glowing Mrs. Greenwald, who dabbed at tears with a white lace-edged handkerchief.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” she admitted, “but I didn’t know how to go about it. And I was scared to death to go to the parson. I was afraid he would want an account of every sin I ever committed and there are—were—so many of them.”

Julia knew that their former pastor would have demanded no such thing, but folks often had funny ideas about preachers.

“I had no idea that I could go directly to God—in Jesus’ name—and ask forgiveness,” the woman went on.

“That’s how we each must do it,” said Julia, giving her a warm embrace.

“Well, it’s a big relief, I’ll tell you that.” Mrs. Greenwald turned to give Mrs. Adams a hug as well.

They rejoined the group in the main parlor. Julia noticed people watching Mrs. Greenwald. Folks were curious as to what had happened and if it had really “worked.” If Mrs. Greenwald was conscious of the attention, she did not let on. She hugged each of her children, then turned to greet her neighbors with a shining face.

“I don’t know why I didn’t do this years ago,” she told them, and they could see the new strength in her face.

“Oh, what a wonderful day,” Julia said to the family at dinner. “Imagine! Mrs. Greenwald is the first convert of our worship services. I don’t think she ever would have gone to church. Here I was praying to keep the church open, and there she was with a hungry heart but too stubborn—or afraid—to go to the services. God knew what He was doing all the time in closing the doors of the church.”

“But, Mama,” spoke Felicity, “what if there are others who would go to church, but won’t come here?”

“I—really don’t know,” Julia admitted. “Maybe I said it all wrong.

Maybe God didn’t speak to Mrs. Greenwald
because
the church closed its doors. Maybe He had to use our group because the church
had
closed. Maybe that was the only way He could get our—my—attention. Suddenly I realized that I had an obligation. Before, I had left it all to the church. To the minister. I shouldn’t have. If I had been as concerned when the church was still here as I am now—well, the church might still be open.”

It was a sobering thought for Julia. She knew she had failed in her Christian commitment. She had waited too long to express concern for her neighbors.

“Well, we still have a big job to do. There are those in town who might move any day—so our time may be short. We need to share our faith with them—as God gives us opportunity.”

“Jen talked to Millicent,” Felicity announced.

Julia’s head came up. “I didn’t know that.”

“She had a whole bunch of questions,” said Jennifer. “I tried to explain to her—what it means to serve God.”

“She’s scared,” continued Felicity. “Says she doesn’t want to go to hell when she dies.”

“Did you—do you need some help with your answers?” John asked Jennifer.

“I—I’m not sure she understood all I said. I told her that God doesn’t want anyone to go to hell—that’s why He sent His Son Jesus to die on the cross. Then I tried to explain how we confess the bad things—the sin—and ask Him to forgive us—then thank God for sending Jesus. Then we ask God to accept us as His children and help us live the way He wants us to—by faith.”

“It sounds as if you did a good job of explaining it,” said John, pleased with Jennifer.

“She said she wanted to think about it some more,” went on Jennifer.

“She should think about it carefully,” John agreed. “It is not a decision to be made lightly.”

John pushed back from the table. “I don’t think we should wait until our family worship time to remember these people in prayer. Let’s stop and pray for them right now.”

Each person at the table said a brief prayer for Mrs. Greenwald, that God would help her grow in her knowledge and understanding of Him, and for Millicent, that she might understand the meaning of the step she was considering, and that she might make the right choice.

Chapter Nineteen

The Blakeneys

On Monday morning Julia tried to get her mind back on preparations for her coming house guests, but her thoughts insisted on returning to the previous day. The eternal significance of Sunday’s events made the coming of visitors much less important to Julia. She prayed that Mrs. Greenwald’s decision would be strengthened as days passed, and that Millicent too would come to understand the importance of the decision she was considering and be bold enough to make it. She also prayed that Jennifer would have the wisdom to answer Millicent’s questions.

Julia made one last round of the house to check that all was in readiness. She placed fresh fall flowers in the bedrooms and on tables throughout the main floor and sent Tom off to the station to meet the train.

Julia’s heart pounded as she awaited her new guests. To help ease her tension she went to the kitchen to see Hettie.
Perhaps a chat, a cup of tea, or both, will calm my nerves,
she thought.

“Is the kettle hot, Hettie?” she asked as she entered the room with a swish of her skirts.

“Sure is.” Hettie moved to get the teapot and the cups. She could sense that Julia was agitated. It was not a usual thing.

“Are the girls around?” asked Julia.

“I sent them to the store for the things I’ll need for the guests,” answered Hettie.

Julia took a seat at the kitchen table.

“Did they open the windows to let fresh air into the bedrooms?” she asked, though why she asked she didn’t know. She had seen the curtains stirring in the light breeze when she made her last check of the rooms.

Hettie nodded. She too knew that Julia had just checked the rooms.

“Why do I feel so nervous?” Julia asked. “It’s not as if this is our first experience with guests.”

“They’re likely the last guests of the season,” Hettie answered. “We need the money badly.”

Hettie was right. It seemed reason enough for a case of the jitters.

Hettie set the tea cup in front of Julia and asked, “You want cake or cookies?”

“Yes, please,” Julia surprised Hettie by saying. Julia never took sweets with her tea, saying it was not good to have too much sugar.

“Which?” asked Hettie, and Julia looked puzzled by the question.

“Cookies or cake?” repeated Hettie.

Julia shrugged her shoulders, and Hettie placed some sugar cookies on a plate.

“I will need to be at the door to greet them,” Julia murmured.

“No hurry. We’ll hear the whistle long before they arrive.”

Julia took a cookie from the plate. “There seems to be so much to think about all the time that my head fairly swims,” she admitted.

“Like?” prompted Hettie.

“The girls mostly, I guess,” answered Julia. “Some days I wonder if this is fair to them. I said to John once that learning household chores would be good for them—and it is. But shouldn’t they have a chance to learn other things too?

“I think of my own youth,” Julia continued. “It was so different. I took lessons in piano, tennis, riding, French. I went to a fine finishing school. My girls won’t know much more than how to scrub floors, make beds, bake cookies, and hoe gardens. Is that enough, Hettie?”

“They still have time,” Hettie comforted.

“Do you think—?”

The train whistle blew before Julia finished her sentence, and she forgot her question, her tea, and her half-eaten cookie.

“They’re here!” she said excitedly. She rose quickly from her chair.

“No. No, it’ll take Tom a bit of time to get them here. The train is just pulling in.”

Julia brushed her skirts, lifted trembling hands to her hair, and sat down again. But she couldn’t stay still for long. After one more sip of tea she left the kitchen for a final check of the house.

“Is this all there is to your town?” Mr. Blakeney asked Tom as the horses trotted along Main Street.

Tom hardly knew how to answer. If the Blakeneys expected a hustling, bustling town, they had not read the brochure carefully.

Tom cleared his throat to answer, but Mrs. Blakeney cut in. “It is just what we wanted, isn’t it, Thaddeus?” Her shrill voice made the words into a command rather than an observation.

The man only sniffed.

The two younger women stared directly ahead, no questions on their lips or in their eyes, no apparent interest in the town at all.

They passed the yard where the Shannon children played. As the team approached, the game stopped and four pairs of curious eyes looked at the passengers in the buggy. One lifted a pudgy hand to wave, and Tom dipped his head in reply.

“I do hope we won’t be harassed by curious neighbors,” said the older woman.

Tom noted all of the boarded-up houses. It was obvious they were empty. Not much harassment from neighbors there.

Julia was waiting at the door, Hettie close behind her. Mr. Blakeney bowed stiffly, but his wife was too busy looking around to notice Julia’s welcome. She studied all she saw.

“It should do just fine,” Julia heard her say to her husband. When at last she turned to Julia, she gave an order. “Show us to our rooms.” Then to Hettie she said, “You will draw a bath for Miss Priscilla at once. She is very weary from the journey.”

She turned then to Tom. “The suitcases will be needed immediately. I will point out to you which ones go in which rooms.”

Julia, who normally sent Hettie up with the guests, led the party up the stairs herself. She indicated the three available rooms with the shared bath in the hallway. Hettie was already in the bathroom filling the tub.

“Priscilla, you may choose,” the older woman said to one of her daughters.

The girl surveyed each room, then looked them over a second time, studied them more closely a third time, and finally settled on the room that overlooked the valley.

“Your father and I will take the room across the hall,” Mrs. Blakeney informed the young woman. The third room was thus assigned to the second daughter, who moved into it without a word.

“Tea will be served in the main parlor in half an hour,” Julia told her guests.

“So long?” asked the woman.

“I—I thought we must allow your daughter time to properly enjoy her bath,” Julia explained.

“She will have tea in her room,” Mrs. Blakeney replied. “The rest of us will be ready in ten minutes.”