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Authors: Janette Oke

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BOOK: The Measure of a Heart
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“You should have asked for help,” said Anna softly.

“We don’t have any family here,” replied the woman.

“Well, neighbors would have—”

“We’re not on friendly terms with the neighbors,” cut in the woman.

“My husband or I will come tonight,” offered Anna, “so you folks can get a good sleep.”

Surprise showed in the woman’s eyes. After a moment’s silence, she spoke. “You’re thet preacher’s wife, aren’t you?”

Anna nodded. “We have been so happy to have your boys come to Sunday school now and then.”

“They sneaked out to do it,” the woman replied, her voice dropping to a whisper. “We just figured they was off to play at first—then the truth came out. My man gave ’em a good thrashing when he found out.”

Anna cringed. How cruel to treat young children in such a fashion. Especially when they had done no wrong. They had simply gone to Sunday school. And then she trembled. The child beater was holding her baby.

She rose to her feet and turned to the door just as she heard young Maggie squeal and giggle again.

“I must get home now.” She hesitated for one moment. “But I’ll be back,” she said. Her thoughts went further, And I’ll leave my baby with her father, but she did not say the words.

But the scene on the front porch stopped her mid-stride. There was the big man, a satisfied grin on his bearded face, Maggie balanced carefully on one knee, while his free hand tossed a worn-out sock that the brute of a dog was racing to retrieve. And young Maggie’s arms were flailing, her eyes sparkling as she enthusiastically enjoyed the sport.

Anna smiled and stepped out of the darkened room. She did not move to claim her daughter immediately. Instead, she leaned against a porch pillar, letting her eyes lift to the livery stables where horses milled in a fenced yard. Anna wondered if they had been fed. Mr. Cross was known to take better care of his teams than of his boys. They were his “bread and butter,” he said candidly.

“Your son is very sick, isn’t he?” Anna commented with sympathy.

The man shuffled little Maggie a bit closer in his lap but made no reply.

“I know how worried I would be if it were my child,” Anna went on.

She turned slightly to look at the man holding her baby. Maggie was reaching up a chubby hand to try to grasp a handful of beard.

“He did drink the eggnog,” Anna said encouragingly. “I’ll bring him more later. If he can just keep it down—”

She stopped her comment.

The big dog approached the man and nuzzled his nose up against Maggie, who squealed with delight.

So much for big bad dog, thought Anna, and smiled to herself.

“I had heard he was vicious,” she said in good humor, indicating the dog who was allowing Maggie to pull his hair.

“He can rip the leg off a mule,” replied the man matter-of-factly.

“Then why—?” began Anna.

The man shrugged. “Takes a pretty mean brute to resist a baby,” he admitted, and his voice was low and trembling.

Anna stood without comment, blinking away tears that threatened to come. At last she straightened and moved toward the man and her child. She heard a growl deep in the throat of the dog, and the man spoke to him firmly.

“Doesn’t realize she’s yours,” he apologized. “Already laid his claim on her.”

“If I ever need a guard dog,” said Anna as she reached for Maggie, “I’ll know where to find him.”

The big man couldn’t hide a bit of a grin.

Anna continued to take eggnog, then soup and stew to the young boy. And Austin took his turn several nights staying with the Crosses so the family could get some sleep. The condition of the young boy slowly but gradually improved. And at last the day came when Ben was able to sit up on his own again.

From then on he seemed to gain ground rapidly.

“Before you know it, you’ll be out playing ball,” Austin teased one day as he and Anna stopped to see Ben.

The boy grinned.

Mrs. Cross came from the kitchen with a pitcher of lemonade. “First place he’s gonna go is to church,” she said with feeling.

Austin and Anna exchanged brief glances. This was an unexpected change. Neither dared to make comment. Anna stole a quick glance in the direction of Mr. Cross to try to read his reaction.

He was bouncing Maggie on his big knee. From the beginning he had claimed her as “his girl,” and she seemed to agree, grinning and clapping whenever they met.

“Was a time I wouldn’t allow my boys to go to church,” he admitted without looking up.

“Now you will?” prompted Austin.

The big head came up and the man looked directly at the town minister. “Not without me,” he said simply.

No one in the whole town would have guessed that Matt Cross would be the preacher’s first convert. Anna’s prayers had zeroed in on the gruff Mrs. Paxton and the Lawes family. Even on the hard-to-read Mr. Parks, who kept helping God with His little miracles, though he refused to darken the church door.

It was true that Mrs. Paxton had softened over the months, but she still spoke gruffly, still scowled at the world, and still refused to attend services.

“I gave you my building,” she said tartly, “but I didn’t say that I came with it.”

Anna knew better than to press the issue. She continued to offer her time and friendship.

The Lawes family were faithful in their attendance, but when Austin asked them if they wished to make a personal commitment to the faith, they stalled.

“It isn’t that we are unbelievers,” argued Cal; “we just aren’t ready to take that step yet. I guess we’re both still hurting. Need time to heal. Still feelin’ a bit numb inside.”

So Austin and Anna had waited and prayed, wondering just who would be the first to break the months of “drought” in their ministry.

But never, never had either of them supposed that it might be the misfit at the edge of town.

“God works in mysterious ways,” Anna quoted after the big man had knelt at the little church altar rail and sobbed as he asked the Lord to forgive his sin and cleanse his heart.

It was an occasion for great rejoicing.

The man had been known in the community for so long as a work-driven, money-grubbing individual. Because of his drive, he’d had time for no one. His only distraction seemed to be whiskey. He would be sober and hard working for months on end, then suddenly lay aside his self-assigned tasks and pick up a bottle. When he drank he was an entirely different man. His family tried to stay well out of his way, his wife suffering the most from his abuse. Even his vicious dog was afraid of him.

And now the man had made the commitment of his life. He had become the first convert in the little village church.

The next logical event, in Anna’s thinking, was for Mrs. Cross to join her husband in his commitment. But though Austin spoke to the woman and explained carefully how one accepted the wonderful gift of God’s forgiveness, she held back. She wanted her boys taught “religion.” She didn’t begrudge her husband his step of faith. But she would just wait and see.

Anna was understanding. “She has lived with an angry, abusive man for so many years that I’m sure it must be hard for her to believe even the Lord can change him,” she said to Austin. “We’ll just have to allow her time for observation.”

Austin nodded, but both of them knew it was difficult to wait when a person’s soul was at stake.

Chapter Nineteen

Baptism

Anna’s days seemed to be more than full, what with the garden, calling, housekeeping, care of baby Maggie, and duties at the church.

She still lamented her lack of leadership. She felt there was so much more that could be accomplished in their little congregation if only Austin had a better qualified partner for his work. But it was a joy to watch Mr. Cross grow in his faith. Besides attending the Sunday services, he was meeting once a week with Austin, where together they studied the Scriptures about the Christian life.

Young Ben gained strength steadily and finally joined his shouts to the racket from the baseball diamond on the lot across the back alley. Anna shivered when she thought of how close they had been to losing him.

The summer was dry and farmers fretted about the hay crop. “Hardly enough there to make it worth one’s while,” Anna heard again and again.

“Well, it’s all we’ll get,” said another. “We’ll have to take what we can.”

But there was uneasiness. Folks feared there wouldn’t be enough feed to get their animals through the winter.

In spite of the dry year, Anna was pleased with her garden. She had spent some of the hot summer days hauling up pails of water from the nearby creek, but it had been worth the effort. Anna was thankful for a good return. One that she counted on to get them through another winter. The final task of gathering was all that remained to be done.

“ ’Fraid I have some bad news,” said Mrs. Landers one Sunday morning when she met Anna at the door of the little church.

Anna’s eyes opened wide. She did hope no one else was sick.

“Neighbor’s pigs got out,” Mrs. Landers explained.

Anna found herself wondering what that had to do with her.

“Never touched my garden—but they most ruined yours,” went on the woman.

Anna felt her heart sink. What would they ever do without a garden?

She found it difficult to concentrate on Austin’s sermon, and when Maggie began to fuss, Anna used it as an excuse to get out to some fresh air. She felt she was suffocating.

Surely it isn’t that bad, she tried to tell herself. I’ve seen gardens rooted by pigs. It always looks as though they have taken everything—but they leave a lot behind.

It wouldn’t do to walk out to the garden on the Lord’s Day. Anna had to hold herself in check, but it was an awful long wait until the next morning.

“The pigs have been in my garden,” she told Austin. “I’m going out to check the damage.”

The sun was still hanging in the eastern horizon and the water for the morning’s washing was boiling on the back of the kitchen stove. Austin knew that Anna’s concern must be great.

“Would you like me to go see?” he asked.

“No, I need to see for myself,” responded Anna.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No. But if I could leave Maggie? She’s still sleeping.”

He nodded and Anna slipped on her work bonnet and set out at a brisk pace.

It was worse than she would have dared to think. Almost all her precious garden was taken. Here and there a half eaten potato still lay on the ground. Scattered down the long rows were a few missed carrots, a turnip or two. But for all intents and purposes, the whole summer’s work was gone.

Anna could have cried, but instead she set herself to picking up the few remaining vegetables.

“God,” she prayed as she worked. “You know all about this. You know how much we thought we needed this garden. I know that you have promised to supply our needs, so I guess you have other plans, Lord. Help me to be patient as I wait to see what they are.”

Anna had about gathered the last of the scattered pieces of vegetables when she heard a team on the road. The driver pulled the horses to a stop and climbed down heavily. She recognized the man as Mr. Briggs, the local attorney.

“Heard you had your garden raided,” he said as he walked toward her.

BOOK: The Measure of a Heart
8.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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