Ivy dropped her gaze, noticing the bacon still on her plate. “But how do I encourage them? We just work, work, work to make ends meet. Dad is gone so much and Mama is tired.”
“What did Grandma do?” Granddad so often answered a question with a question.
Ivy picked up the bacon and took a bite. She searched her mind for Grandma’s behaviors when times were tough. “Well, she sang a lot, and she quoted scripture.” Ivy pictured the many times Grandma sang and spoke out Bible verses from memory. The house always seemed more alive, the sun brighter, and the sky bluer. When Jessica was four months old, she became a very sick baby. Grandma held her most of the day and even at night. She sang hymns and recited Bible verses every time Jessica fussed. Her fever finally broke, and little Jessica returned to full health. Grandma’s faith so impressed Ivy, she pleaded with Grandma to daily sing over each of her grandchildren and quote the Bible.
“Did it help?”
Ivy nodded. “Yes, it really did, but I don’t feel much like singing, and I haven’t been reading my Bible much.”
“That’s an honest answer.” Grandad’s eyes bored into hers. “The fact is, young lady, you’ve almost given up on God.”
Ivy lifted her head and twisted her fingers together. She looked first at Granddad, then at Grandma. “Grandma and Granddad, I…” She paused. “Remember the money you set aside for my college?”
“Yes, we remember.”
“Well, Mama and Papa had to use it just to survive after the fire. There were so many expenses. And Papa has to work in another town now. It’s too far to drive each day, so he has to rent a room. And, he doesn’t make as much money, either.” Ivy felt the familiar hopelessness of losing the chance to get a college education. She would have to find a job soon, just to help with the household costs. The possibility of saving enough for college seemed unrealistic.
“We know that, child. You should be happy that money was available. What if it hadn’t been there?” There was Granddad’s look and his question again.
“I know, but college…” Ivy stared at the table and chewed her lip.
“Is still two years away. You need to trust God, Ivy.” Granddad’s voice was firm but gentle, as always.
“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just that…” Ivy tried to rise above the shame she felt. I’m so selfish, God. How can you even love me?”
“What’s inside, Ivy, is your gift to your parents.” Granddad patted her hand again.
She sighed and ran her other hand through her hair. She must do better and help more.
“And the quilt is our gift to you.” Grandma smiled that smile that seemed to hug her.
“You really made it before you, I mean, before…?”
“Yes, before I died. And I hid it too.” Again, Grandma’s steel-blue eyes twinkled. “But before we tell you where, we want to talk about you hiding something.”
“Me?” What could she hide? Her face scrunched up as she studied Grandma and then Grandad. The Evergreen scent from the Christmas tree wafted past her, mixing with the breakfast smells of bacon and toast. Was this really happening? The smells seemed real, but this wasn’t possible. Perhaps she needed to hide this experience from her parents. That was it. It was just a very real dream. She picked up her glass of juice and pondered what she might hide. The sun continued to creep into the window and cast its ethereal light in gentle rays across the spacious kitchen.
“In your heart, Ivy. You need to hide God’s Word in your heart. He promises to provide for you, no matter what. That means the little things, like the rug, the robe, and the big things like a new store and college.”
Ivy’s mouth dropped open. How did they know about the rug and the robe? Those thoughts were this morning! Well, she’d desired them a while, but no one knew it. Certainly not Grandma and Grandad. And she supposed with hard work on her part, God could provide for college, maybe part-time. But did she just say God could provide a new store? This must truly be a dream.
“Today, you will have your quilt, but remember, what’s inside is your gift to your parents. Your folks need to hear your love, not your whines. Oh, I know you don’t complain much, but they need to hear you say the Word and sing your faith, just like I did every day. God’s Word is still true.” Grandma patted her hand again. “Yes, the facts are that things are tough right now, but the truth is that God has provided everything you need. Your brother and sisters need your example of faith and strength.”
Ivy put her head down and ran her hands up her neck, sending her hair over her face. How could she have been so selfish? Why was she so confused? Was God scolding her in a dream? On Christmas? Did Grandad and Grandma really sit in her kitchen? A tear trickled down her cheek? If I wake up now, will my cheek be wet?
“Now, don’t go getting down on yourself. Ivy, look at me.”
Grandad’s stern voice challenged her to act more grown-up. It was hard, but life hadn’t been easy for her grandparents either. They never complained, but building the store and keeping it open required a walk of faith. She heard her parents talk about it several times. She didn’t fully understand the economics of it, but because of the diligence and determination of her grandparents and parents, the store was a successful venture.
Ivy lifted her head and tried to look out through the curtain of her long wavy hair. They all started to chuckle. Ivy pushed her hair back into place and turned toward her grandfather. “Yes, Granddad.”
“Do you remember Abraham and Isaac?”
“You mean in the Bible? Wasn’t Abraham the one God asked to sacrifice his son? The son was Isaac, wasn’t he?” She thought of the story she learned in Sunday School many years earlier. Abraham placed his son on an altar, but God then spoke to him not to harm Isaac. Abraham turned around and there was a ram caught in the shrubs. He was able to sacrifice the ram, but Ivy never quite understood the point of it all.
Grandad took a sip of his coffee. The heavy fragrance brought up memories of early, dark, winter mornings snuggling with her parents or grandparents as they savored their coffee. It was a warm-blanket smell. “Yes, Ivy, God asked Abraham to give up his son, his only son, and then God did the very same thing many years later. God gave up His son, Jesus, on the cross.”
Ivy tilted her head and closed her eyes in concentration. “I never saw that connection.” Abraham giving up his son...God giving up his son. It still didn’t seem right. She rested her chin in her hand, her elbow on the table. “Is that why God asked him...because He was going to do the same thing, but…”
“It’s covenant. Everything Abraham had belonged to God and everything God had belonged to Abraham. That included their sons.” Grandad leaned forward so his face was closer to Ivy’s. She could smell the after-shave he used. Grandma said when Grandad sat down next to her on the river bank so many years ago, that fragrance was her first introduction to her future husband. Ivy pulled her thoughts back to the story of Abraham.
“But Isaac didn’t die like Jesus, did he?” She savored her last piece of bacon, as she considered this confusing comparison.
“No, God stopped Abraham, and when Abraham looked around, God had provided a ram for the sacrifice. The lesson is that God knew then He could totally trust Abraham. And God was known from that time on as Jehovah Jireh, the God Who sees ahead and provides.” Grandad leaned back and picked up his coffee cup again. “He is still Jehovah Jireh here and now, Ivy. He is the God Who sees ahead and provides for you. Will you trust Him, Ivy? Will you help your family trust Him again?”
Ivy straightened her back. She thought she understood. “Yes, yes, I will. Thank you. Thank you.” God was not asking her that much. She could be more cheerful. And perhaps she could earn enough to at least start college. It might take longer, but maybe it was possible.
Granddad sat back, glanced at Grandma, smiled, and said, “Now, Ivy, we’ll tell you where the quilt is. It is your gift. But what’s inside is your gift to your parents.”
“Yes, yes, Granddad. I feel more hopeful tha
n I have in a long time. I’ll let God put His Word back in my heart, and I’ll share faith with Mama and Papa.” She grabbed one more piece of toast, knowing she needed to leave enough for the rest of the family.
Grandma grinned. “You know the closet under the stairs, Ivy?”
“Of course.” She lowered her eyes. “But I have cleaned that out many times.” There was no quilt in that closet. It’s just a dream, Ivy...there’s no quilt. Grow up. Let it go. Disappointment filled her heart again. She needed to be more hopeful and more helpful. That would be a great gift for her parents. She would stop whining about things, and just enjoy wonderful memories of Grandad and Grandma. Start writing them down. It was time. This was a good lesson from her dream...just a dream. She would wake up soon and spend Christmas day loving and serving her family with joy. Maybe, just maybe, she could learn how to quilt and do the wonderful stitching and make her own quilt.
Granddad chuckled. “Well, just above eye level, the back of the stair has a little indentation over against the wall. If you work it a little, it will come loose.” Ivy tried to picture that place in the closet, but she could not envision it. Would she have even noticed it there if there was a spot? What an unusual dream.
“My father put that secret compartment in there, but I never knew it.” Grandma playfully punched Granddad’s arm. “My papa showed my husband, who later showed me. Can you believe it? I grew up in this house, but Papa never revealed it to me. He showed your Grandad first. I was not quite sure what to think about that.”
“Ah.” Grandad laughed. “He trusted me more. But at least I showed it to you.”
“That you did. Thank you.” She squeezed Grandad’s hand. “I wanted to find a proper backing for the quilt, but in the meantime, I wrapped it in brown paper with a little cedar wood to keep it fresh. One day when everyone was gone, I put it in there. I was sure no one would see it and when I found the right backing, I could finish it for you. Unfortunately, I took ill not long after that.” Grandma set her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand. She closed her eyes.
Grandad gazed across the large kitchen as if he could look through the walls and across the fields that had once been a farm. “I grieved so after your Grandma died, that I never thought about the quilt. She probably told me, but I totally forgot about it. The heart attack was such a surprise that I had no time to think about last things to tell everybody.”
“Oh, Grandad.” Ivy wiped the tear that escaped her eye. “I guess I thought you would always be here.”
“I think we thought the same, Ivy.” The love that came from his eyes wrapped around Ivy’s heart. She felt her heart would burst with the emotion that filled her being. Love, grief, pain, joy all ran around together inside her. Something turned inside her. It just might be real. They just might truly be here with her.
Grandad continued. “The quilt is yours, Ivy, but what’s inside…”
“I know, is for Mama and Papa.” Ivy brought her shoulders almost up to her ears and let out a sigh as her shoulders slumped back. What if...what if this was actually happening? What an amazing event. Oh, God, let it be true. I think it’s true. Joy took over and Ivy jumped up. “A quilt for me, here, all this time. I can’t wait to tell everyone. I can’t wait to see it. This is so exciting!” She gathered up the breakfast dishes and took them to the sink. She turned, leaning against the counter. “It’s so wonderful to have you here. I have missed you both so much and you have given me such great help, and...and, you made me a quilt.” Ivy sighed. I can’t remember being this happy in so long.
“Everyone will be down soon, so you can tell them.” Grandma and Granddad both stood and came over and held Ivy in their arms. Breakfast cooking, after-shave, and the sweet fragrance of love surrounded her. Ivy buried her head in their embrace.
They walked back to their chairs and Ivy looked over at the stove. More eggs, bacon, and toast sat on the warming burner at the back of the large stove. The food was held by the platters Grandma received as wedding gifts. Mama only used them on special occasions. The flower and leaf pattern looked like Ivy vines, so Ivy always thought they belonged to her when she was little. “Why, Grandma, what a breakfast! There’s enough here for everyone. Mama will be so pleased.”
“And amazed.” It was Mama’s voice.
Ivy whirled around. “Look, Mama, who’s here.”
Mama smiled. She stood in the doorway to the kitchen in her pink terrycloth robe, arms wrapped around herself to keep out the morning chill. Her hair fell gently around her shoulders and her eyes looked a little sleepy. “Yes, I see you, and I am amazed, Ivy. You got down here before me and made breakfast, too. What a blessing! Merry Christmas, my dear daughter. And you got out Grandma’s special platters with the Ivy pattern. God must have known we’d have our own Ivy in you.”
“But, Mama, where did Grandma and Granddad go?”
Mama laughed. She had the same twinkle in the same blue eyes as Grandma. “Oh, Ivy, you surely haven’t forgotten that they’re in Heaven.” She walked over and hugged Ivy. “This is wonderful. I think I heard everyone stirring, and now, I can relax and just enjoy. Ivy, what a wonderful gift.” She looked at Ivy’s face. “Is something wrong?”
“Mama, I didn’t make breakfast, Grandma did.”
Mama laughed again and her face crinkled just like Granddad’s did. “You must have fallen asleep after making it. How long have you been up?” Mama pulled her robe tighter around herself and surveyed the kitchen. Abundant food on the platters, the Christmas gingham on the table, the scent of the Christmas tree, sunlight peering through the windows.
“A long time, Mama. Seriously. I have been talking with them for close to an hour.” Ivy’s hands went up and out and down to her side, realizing how ridiculous her statement sounded. “And nobody would get up, not even the silly cat.”
“A wonderful dream. I hope you had a good talk with your grandparents.” Ivy wasn’t sure if she detected Mama quietly laughing at her or if she was just so pleased that breakfast was ready. How could she blame her for thinking it was a dream?
“Mama, did I ever sleepwalk?”
Mama walked to Ivy and lifted her chin. “Hmmm, let’s see. Remember the one time you got up in the middle of the night and took your shower for school and then came to wake us all up.”
Ivy laughed. “It was one o’clock in the morning. I had to go to back to bed with wet hair.”
“And then there was that time at camp…” Mama squeezed Ivy’s shoulders.
“Oh…” Ivy groaned. “I woke everyone in the cabin by hopping out of bed and yelling ‘Help me, help me!’ Then when they all asked what was wrong, I told them to be quiet and go back to sleep. But I never made breakfast in my sleep.”
“True enough, sweet girl. You must have just fallen asleep afterwards. I’m so glad you set it on the warming burner. You are a clever one. It’ll all come back to you.”
Mama began setting the table for the whole family as they heard the twins squeal, “It’s Christmas! It’s Christmas! I smell breakfast!”
Just then, James stuck his unruly head of curls through the door. “I’ll get the chores done quick, Mama. I got everything stocked and cleaned in the barn yesterday, so it should only take a few minutes to feed the chickens and the cow. And I’ll be in with fresh milk shortly. Merry Christmas, Mama!”
“What wonderful children I have,” boomed Papa’s voice. “Breakfast made, chores about to be done. It must be Christmas!”
Ivy ran over to Papa. She barely missed stepping on Tilly as the cat ran out the door with James to get some of Bessie’s milk. “Oh, Papa, Merry Christmas, but Grandma made breakfast.”
“You mean it’s just a hallucination that my family is here with an incredible breakfast on Christmas morning?” He bent over and slapped his knee, guffawing at his own joke. His hair was ruffled and matched the color of his brown slippers. His red plaid robe hung unbuttoned over his dark green pajamas. He was always happy in the morning.
Ivy laughed,
too, but then pulled herself up to her full five-foot-two height and looked at her father. “I will tell the story at breakfast.”
As soon as James finished and washed up, they all sat down in the now sun-filled kitchen. The eggs and toast were as fresh and warm as when Grandma served them to Ivy and the bacon just as crisp. After Papa gave thanks and praise, and everyone had full plates, Ivy began, “I know it sounds silly, but I came down just like all of you this morning, smelling breakfast and thinking I was late. Grandma and Granddad were here in the kitchen and we ate breakfast together.”
The twins exchanged looks. Their blonde hair bounced as their gaze went from each other to Ivy. Jessica crossed her arms. “Why didn’t you get us? We miss them.” Jenny nodded her head in agreement.
James closed one eye and looked askance at Ivy. “Sleepwalking, maybe?” He looked around the table and rolled his eyes.
Ivy ignored him. She glanced at Mama, who placed her hand over her mouth. Ivy knew she was trying not to laugh at her sleepwalking escapades. “They told me about Abraham and Isaac and how God asked Abraham to sacrifice his son.”
Mama set her fork down. “Oh, such a sad story. How could any parent…”
“Wait, Mama.” Ivy waited till everyone gave her their attention. “It was because of covenant, Granddad said. And God did the same thing with His Son, Jesus.”
Mama paused and gazed out the window as the sun streaked in. “Well, I guess I never saw that before.” She turned back and picked up a piece of toast.
“And after that, God was called the God who provides because He put the ram in the bushes for the sacrifice.”
“That’s cool,” said James. “By the way, I love crisp bacon.” He picked up a piece, snapped it in two, and ate it.
Jenny and Jessica’s eyes got big. “Can we use our fingers, Mama? It’s hard to stab with the fork.”
“Go ahead.” Mama scowled, then smiled. “It’s Christmas, so I guess it’s okay.”
Christmas Ivy Page 2