Faithfully Yours Read online

  “Well I suggest that tomorrow morning you start reading Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians, chapter thirteen. If this so-called love that you feel for your aunt can’t allow her the freedom to be who she is, what good is it?” She reached for her worn, large-print edition on a nearby table and flipped the onionskin pages with familiarity.

  “Paul says that love is patient, love is kind. Love is never selfish. Love doesn’t demand its own way.” She glanced up, checking to see if he was paying attention to what she had said.

  “If you love someone you will be loyal to him or her no matter what the cost. You will always believe in her, always expect the best of her, and always stand your ground in defending her. That’s God’s version of love, Jeremy. Is that the kind of love you feel toward Faith? Or is the kind of love you have the kind that demands its own way—the kind that sets you up as God…all knowing?”

  She pushed herself upward and motioned toward the door. “I want you to go for a drive and think long and hard on that. You’ve always had Faith in your corner, cheering you on. And I don’t think that’s going to change just because she gets married. But can’t you allow her this little bit of happiness?”

  “It’s not that I don’t want her to be happy,” he said sadly. “It’s just that I’m concerned about her. She’s getting more forgetful each day. I couldn’t bear it if…” He let the words die away, unspoken.

  “I know you mean well, son. I know you think you know what’s best for her. But look deep into your heart and ask yourself if you’re really giving Arthur a fair chance? And if you still feel justified, then you’re going to have to accept that they don’t agree with you and move on with your own life.”

  Charity grasped his arm with her arthritic hands and exerted enough pressure that he would look at her. “If you can’t be happy for her, then at least get out of her way so that she can live her life the way she wants. You can still be there whenever she needs you, son.”

  Charity watched as he surged to his feet, her heart sinking as she realized he’d heard none of what she’d said.

  “It’s obvious that you don’t understand the consequences of what you’re asking me to do,” he almost snarled. “I have only my aunt’s best interests at heart. And I will be the one who has to pick up the pieces of this debacle.”

  “Really?” Charity appraised him with a shrewd glance. “Then there’s obviously nothing I or anyone else can say to change your mind. We will just have to agree to differ on this subject! Good day.”

  She returned to her chair, silently issuing a few pertinent prayers to heaven to guide this obstinate young man. When she heard the front door close, she lifted her head to stare at her two remaining guests.

  “That is one very determined young man.”

  Gillian laughed, albeit a little hysterically. “That’s the understatement of the year,” she muttered. “You should see him at school.”

  “I don’t have to now. I’ve heard many reports of his work with the students. I haven’t seen such dedication to imparting knowledge since your aunt retired.” Charity fixed the young woman in her sights. “You love him, don’t you?”

  She watched the flush of red on Gillian’s fair skin and secretly smiled to herself. Ah, thank you, Lord, maybe there’s hope here yet. “That’s no doubt why you agreed to marry the man.”

  “But I didn’t! It was all a mistake, you see,” Gillian explained breathlessly. “Faith got confused and called me his future wife. I thought it would be a good idea to play along—you know, not upset her.” She grimaced. “Everything snowballed after that. Every time we decided to clear things up, something else happened. After the pastor announced it in church one Sunday morning, we decided to let it go for a while.”

  Charity shook her head tiredly. Youth, she reminisced. How very tiring it was.

  “You see, we thought we could ‘break up’ just before Christmas. Everyone would be so busy with their Christmas plans that they wouldn’t even notice, and when they did it would all be in the past. I never wanted to hurt anyone.”

  “Yes, dear. I understand all that. I think I’ve known there was something wrong between you for some time. But do you love him?”

  “I didn’t want to.” Gillian stared at her hands, twisting them around and around. “He’s not at all the type of man I want to marry.” Her big green eyes stared at Charity, willing her to understand.

  “In fact, I came here mourning Michael. I never thought, not even for a moment, that I could be interested in anyone again.” Gillian brushed a tear from her eye and Charity reached out to pat her shoulder. “He’s so…rigid,” Gillian wailed. “You saw what he was like. It’s either his way or not at all.”

  They sat together, the three of them, in Chanty’s tiny living room, remembering Jeremy’s words.

  “It’s true,” the older woman said. “Faith is a tad forgetful. And she does tend to get so involved in the moment that everything else leaves her head. But I don’t believe, I will not believe, that she is a danger to herself or anyone else.”

  “After they are married, Mr. Johnson would be nearby to watch out for her,” Anita offered thoughtfully. “That should relieve some of Mr. Nivens’s worries.”

  Charity shook her head. “I’m not at all convinced that worry about her safety is really what’s at the bottom of this, Anita. No,” she said, nibbling on her fingernail thoughtfully. “I think there’s a much deeper reason why Jeremy is so opposed to this.”

  “He’s opposed to everything,” Gillian put in grumpily. “You should see the extent of this Nutcracker production. It’s overwhelming for a little place like Mossbank. What’s all the fuss for?”

  “In a way, I can understand that part of it,” Charity murmured. “This is his first year here, his first teaching year in America. He wants to make good; show that he’s up to it”

  “You mean he wants to make his mark,” Anita said doubtfully. “But why?”

  “I think it’s to do with his future plans.” Gillian’s forehead was creased in a frown. “Something he said once makes me think that he’s not planning on staying in Mossbank for the rest of his life. I just can’t quite recall…” She fell silent, lost in thought.

  “Well, you and Hope would know more about this than I,” Charity said, bringing them back to the issue at hand. “But surely if he’s trying to score Brownie points, as we used to call it, he’s hoping that it will influence his future somewhere else. Maybe someplace with a drama school?” She glanced at Gillian for confirmation.

  “No, I don’t think it’s that,” Gillian said slowly. “His interest is in the music, not the drama. Anyway, The Nutcracker doesn’t have any words, remember?”

  “Are they really going to do a ballet?” Anita asked. Her mouth curved downward. “Roddy will kick up the biggest fuss if he has to wear a tutu.”

  “No, no.” Gillian burst out laughing. Charity noticed the difference a smile made to that beautiful face. “There’s only one little girl who actually dances; the rest just play their parts normally. Jeremy was actually quite clever when he wrote the scenes. It’s quite modern.”

  “And the children don’t mind doing it?” Charity watched carefully.

  “Actually,” the young teacher admitted, her eyes downcast. “They’re rather enjoying it. It’s just those of us who have to assemble the sets and costumes and prompt and direct who are pulling out our hair.”

  “The other teachers are complaining, too?” Charity tried to hold the disapproval from her voice.

  “There has almost been a mutiny,” Gillian admitted, bright spots of red coloring her cheeks. “We’re all bogged down with the after-hours practices and workshops, etcetera. We’re drowning.”

  “You should have asked for help,” Charity chided gently. “This is a small community. We’re used to pitching in. Now let’s see…” She tapped her cheek thoughtfully. “I can think of several people who would help with sets. And Anita here is more than capable of directing the costume making.”


  “Actually, I have a trunkful of costumes that might be suitable,” the woman murmured shyly. “I used to work with little theater when we lived in the East. Would you like to look?”

  Charity watched as the two huddled over a list of what Gillian anticipated they would need. She was satisfied that the immediate problems would be handled, but her concern was for the young man and woman who were at loggerheads with each other.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Flowerday. You’re a lifesaver. Jeremy will be furious when he finds out I’ve enlisted all this help. He wanted it to be a surprise for the parents.”

  “Parents don’t care about the surprise part,” Charity murmured. “They just want to see their own child on stage. Don’t you worry about Jeremy Nivens. I’ll deal with him.” She faced Gillian head-on and spoke her mind.

  “Right now I’m more concerned with you and this wall you’ve built up between you. You’ve never really answered my question, but I believe you are in love with Jeremy.” She waited until Gillian nodded her head. “Then it’s up to you to put a stop to this mutiny, as you call it. You’re going to have to try working together…find a way to make your goals mesh. That’s the first step.”

  “Oh, but that’s impossible,” Gillian cried. “We’re exact opposites. Whatever I say, he hates, and he’s always after me for breaking some rule he’s devised. He has thousands of them,” she confided in a whisper.

  Charity shook her head firmly. “He is your boss. And he is a co-worker. He deserves your respect and your cooperation. And you love him, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know how it came about but, yes, I do. He’s so legalistic, though. And he’s always…”

  Charity cut the diatribe short with a smile. “My mother, God bless her, used to have a saying when we children were fighting. ‘It’s not what he did, it’s what you do that counts.’ That’s the real meaning of Corinthians, don’t you think?”

  “You mean I should just go along with whatever he wants, meekly accepting his way?” Gillian’s face was the picture of dubiousness.

  “No, I’m saying that you need to find a way to get along. The New Testament church was full of people going their own way, and the writers were continually exhorting the people to ignore the petty stuff and act in a manner pleasing to God. I think God would be pleased if you could make your workplace a happy, cohesive arena where others could see God at work.”

  “Keep it to myself? I have tried, you know.”

  “I know, dear. But the boiling point can be averted if you move away from the source of the heat or adapt to the conditions. You have to choose to understand what makes him like that…what’s underneath all this need to control.”

  “Perhaps you’re right. I’ve been trying to fix Jeremy for so long that I’ve lost my perspective about where he fits into God’s plan for my life.” Chanty watched as the lovely face stared off into the distance. “Perhaps I need to get away and think about that.”

  “I know it sounds easy,” Charity told her. “And I doubt that it will be, but God is teaching something here. It’s up to all of us to understand what it is He wants us to learn.” Charity felt the tiredness surge up in her suddenly, draining her of the strength needed to lift herself from the chair. Fervently she wished her guests would go home, but she would not ask them to leave. She let her eyes close for a moment as she whispered a prayer.

  “Oh, dear. That’s the boys. Thank goodness they’ve finally awakened.” Anita grinned. “I was afraid I was going to be up all night Roddy will be home soon from the boys’ club. I’d better get going.”

  “I need to move, too,” Gillian said. “I’ve gotten so comfortable here, I almost forgot I’m supposed to meet Hope for dinner downtown.” She grinned at Charity’s surprised look. “She’s agreed to try the fried chicken place.”

  Charity gaped. “My dear, if you can work that miracle, you can do anything God sets before you.” She accepted the soft kiss with a smile and shooed them both away, patting the smooth cheeks of Anita’s sons as they toddled out the door.

  “We’ll start on the quilt tomorrow, Charity,” Anita called from the sidewalk. “It will go quite quickly. You just wait and see.”

  As she walked back inside to begin her own dinner preparations, Charity decided that everything went quickly these days. Too quickly.

  Slow me down, Lord, she breathed, stirring the pot of soup Anita had made earlier. Slow me down and show me how to use what little wisdom I’ve accumulated to help these hurting lives.

  Jeremy’s words came back then, his fear evident on the craggy lines of his white face. And Lord, she added in an afterthought, please keep Faith safe and under your umbrella of care.

  And having covered every base she could think of, Charity sank down into her favorite chair, propped up her aching feet and sipped at her soup as she watched the dismal state of the world’s affairs unfold on the television.

  Just one other thing, Lord, she murmured as she prepared for bed a little later. I just wanted to give a big “Thank You” that I’m not young anymore! It’s far too wearing.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Quiet everyone!” Gillian glanced at the rosy faces spread out before her and wondered yet again at the wisdom of doing this. “Mrs. Rempel is going to help us make snowflake Christmas cards this afternoon, so I want you all to listen very carefully, okay?”

  The children nodded their heads in unison just like little robots, their eyes wide with wonder at the gray-haired woman standing at the front of the class.

  Faith took her cue right on target and began her story in a hushed voice. “When I was a very tiny girl, I lived in a country called England, far across the sea.”

  Bethany thrust up her hand. “Is that why you talk funny?”

  “Yes, dear, I expect it is.” Faith smiled, losing none of her animation. “One year my father was injured at work, and for a while we had just enough money to buy our food. It was a cold dreary winter—not as cold as here, because it rained quite a lot, but still very cool.” She shivered and Gillian watched the children’s eyes grow wide.

  “We had to spend a lot of our money on coal to heat our home, and there was nothing left over to buy Christmas presents.”

  “You mean there wouldn’t be anything under the tree?” The boy sounded amazed at such a thing.

  “We couldn’t even get a tree,” Faith told him sadly. “But my mother and father still wanted us to have a happy time at Christmas so they decided we should all make something to decorate our home. Then, on Christmas morning we would bring them all out and that would be our gifts to each other.”

  “No Nintendo?” Timothy Wentworth asked softly. Faith shook her head.

  “No candy canes?” Melanie whispered.

  “None.”

  “No Christmas oranges?”

  “No,” Faith smiled. “But we had lots of mother’s wonderful baking. There were always gingerbread men to decorate and stars and angels. I liked to decorate the Christmas tree cookies best. I’d put one of those little silver candy balls on each branch.”

  “Is that what you made for your Christmas decoration?” Chad asked, as impatient as usual.

  “No.” Faith waited until they were all watching her and then frowned. “I didn’t have anything to make. Christmas was coming closer and closer, and I couldn’t think of one single thing that would be a good decoration.”

  “You could always string popcorn,” one tiny voice volunteered. “My granny says she always did that.”

  “Or make paper chains,” another offered. “You just need glue and paper.”

  “I suppose I could have, but my sisters were smaller and they needed to make something simple like that. Besides, I wanted to have something really spectacular to show to my family. I loved them very much and I wanted to show it, you see.”

  The children nodded with understanding.

  “Couldn’t you get a job?” Tiffany asked. “My brother shovels snow and he gets five whole dollars for it”

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nbsp; “Ohh!” The other kids were flabbergasted by such a huge sum.

  “I don’t think there was anyone in my village who could have paid five dollars for me to shovel,” Faith told them softly. “So I prayed. Every night before I went to bed, I would get down on my knees and tell God that I wanted something really special for my family.”

  “I done that,” Jonah Andrews grumbled. “I didn’t do no good, though. We didn’t get nothin’ from God.” The child who had every toy imaginable looked dismally disappointed, as if he’d expected manna to fall from the heavens, Gillian decided.

  “Oh, no, dear, that’s not true. We always get an answer from God. But sometimes we don’t want to hear what He says and sometimes we don’t like what He brings.” Faith’s face was shining with joy, and Gillian found herself amazed at the assurance she saw there.

  How could Faith, with all the difficulties in her life, still have so much trust that God would work everything out? Gillian scorned her own untrusting attitude.

  “Is that all?” Buddy Hirsch complained. “I’m hungry.”

  “You’re always hungry,” Roddy scoffed. “I bet Mrs. Rempel’s gonna tell us about how they had to starve and not have any turkey dinner at all, aren’t you?” he demanded, peering up at the older woman.

  “I can’t tell you anything if you’re all talking,” Faith said softly, her eyes twinkling. The children settled down immediately. “Now, I told you that I was praying every night for God to hear me, right?” A flurry of little heads nodded.

  “Well, on the day before Christmas I still didn’t hear God’s answer. I’d waited and listened. I obeyed my mother and helped my dad. I did everything I could so that I’d be able to hear the answer, and still it didn’t come. I was really disappointed because now it was too late, and I didn’t have a gift for my family.”

  The childrens’ eyes were huge as she whispered the last words. Gillian could see their mouths in round oh’s of anticipation and wished suddenly that Jeremy were here to see how wonderfully his aunt related to her kids. It would be everyone’s loss if Faith were locked away in some senior citizen’s home, unable to share her wisdom with these little ones.