Child of Light

by O'Hare, Annette;

  Margaret ground her teeth together. “I heard you the first time. Now if that’s all, I’ll be on my way.”

  “Yes, that will be all for today. I’ll see you tomorrow. Same time I suppose.”

  “I’ll try not to come so early.”

  “Whatever you can manage will be fine.” Hattie shooed her out the door with a flip of her hand.

  It felt to Margaret like royalty had dismissed her from court. She was just glad she remained in Hattie’s employment.

  “Hattie, would you please send Michael over to the house when he gets off work this evening? I’d like him to check on the girl.”

  Hattie didn’t look up from her food. “Yes, yes, I’ll send him over. Leave the door open so I may hear my children.”

  “Thank you.”

  ~*~

  “Good night, son.”

  “Good night, Pappy.”

  Margaret stood at the door. “Thank you so much for coming, Michael.” She handed her brother-in-law his medical bag.

  He motioned her outside. “Close the door, please.”

  She did as he asked and hugged her arms tight against the cold.

  “First of all, Hattie said she owes you an apology for the way she spoke to you this morning. This pregnancy has been very hard on her, and she’s not been herself lately. And second, I’m sorry I couldn’t give you better news about the lass.”

  She shook her head. “It’s not your fault. You just confirmed what I already knew.”

  “It seems the pregnancy is taking all her strength from her—that and the consumption, of course. It’s good for the babe, but bad for Josie.”

  “Yes, the baby seems healthy. Strong and kicking.” The thought brought a weak smile to her face.

  Michael nodded. “Margaret, the lass is too far gone already. I’m afraid she’s dying.”

  “I know.” It was all she could do not to cry, but she couldn’t let Josie see her like that.

  “I urge you not to tell the girl what I’ve said. She might give up fighting and lose the baby too. You, Thomas and Pappy need to think about making arrangements for the babe when the time comes. Does Thomas know?”

  Margaret shook her head, her lips trembled, but not from the temperature.

  “Aye, come here, lass.” Michael put his arms around her. “I’m so very sorry.”

  “Thank you, Michael.”

  “I’ve got to be going now.”

  She nodded as he walked away.

  Later that night when all the chores were done, Margaret climbed into bed and allowed herself to cry. She talked to the only One who would understand. “Why, Lord? Why would You bring this woman and baby into my life that I might watch them die?” She hated herself for the way she spoke to the Almighty. Wiping her eyes on the bedspread, she went on. “I’m sorry, Father. Please forgive me.” She pulled the covers up to her neck and sobbed. “Oh, Lord, I understand now. This is how You must have felt on that very first Christmas. You welcomed Your one and only Son into the world just so He could die—for me.”

  6

  Shops and buildings all around Boston were adorned with festive holiday trimmings. The tantalizing aroma of roasted nuts and baked goods teased Margaret’s nose and reminded her of all she had to do. Christmas was drawing nigh, and she was far from prepared for its coming. Even so, she contemplated bringing her nieces and nephews to experience the beauty of their hometown at Christmastime.

  With her grocery basket draped over her shoulder, she headed toward the mercantile, but passed it by and continued down the street. There was something on her mind for which she needed answers. Arriving at her destination, she walked up the steps of St. Agnes and knocked on the door.

  A young woman peered out a window before unlatching the lock. Her eyes sparkled upon seeing her former teacher. “Mrs. Murphy, come in!”

  Margaret hugged the girl, saddened she no longer had a position. “It’s good to see you, Lucille. How are you doing?”

  “I’ve been well.” Lucille dipped her head to the side. “You’ve been missed.”

  “Thank you. I’ve missed you all, too.”

  “Can I get you some tea?”

  “No thank you, dear. I’m here to see Miss Annie. Is she in her office?”

  “I believe so. Shall I check?”

  “If you don’t mind.”

  “Of course not.”

  The young woman started toward Miss Annie’s office leaving Margaret alone in the common room. She had always admired the beautiful dark wood furniture and bold green curtains. Her position at St. Agnes had been her first real job outside the home. She took pride in her work and hated losing her monetary contribution to the family. How had her life taken such a sharp turn in so little time?

  Lucille returned. “Miss Annie will see you in her office.”

  “Thank you, Lucille. It’s been good to see you.”

  “Hopefully we’ll be seeing more of each other.”

  Smiling at the girl, she made her way to the housemistress’s office.

  Miss Annie stood and stretched her hand across the desk. “Have a seat, Margaret.”

  “Thank you.” She shook the headmistress’s hand and then sat in one of the leather armchairs.

  “How have you been, my dear?”

  “I’m all right. Thank you for asking.”

  Miss Annie relaxed in her high backed chair and clasped her hands together over her waist. “What brings you in today?”

  Margaret breathed deeply and rubbed her lips together. “I’ve come hoping you can give me some information.”

  “I’d be happy to help if I can. What kind of information are you looking for?”

  “It’s about the girl I took in…Josie.”

  “Yes, I thought that might be what this is about.”

  “Oh, Miss Annie, she’s so very sick. The doctor diagnosed her with consumption and the illness is quite advanced.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear that, Margaret. That’s a lot of responsibility on you and your family, but as I said before...”

  Margaret raised her hand and shook her head. “No, that’s not why I’m here.”

  “Oh?” Miss Annie’s voice softened.

  “It’s about the baby. What will happen to the baby if, heaven forbid, Josie doesn’t…make it?” She looked away, blinking back tears.

  The housemistress’s chair squeaked as she leaned forward and rested her folded hands on the desk. “In cases like this, the normal protocol would be to send the newborn to The Home For Little Wanderers. It’s an orphanage here in town where the baby would be cared for until adoptive parents can be found.”

  Margaret slowly nodded her head before looking up at Miss Annie. “And what if no one wants to adopt the baby of a sick prostitute? Then what?”

  “Well, I don’t know for sure. I suppose the child would remain at the orphanage, but surely that won’t be the case.” Miss Annie rose from her desk and went to sit in the chair next to Margaret and held her hand. “You need not worry about the babe. Our Lord has proclaimed He is the Father to the fatherless.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I know.”

  “Margaret, are you considering raising the babe?”

  “The thought has crossed my mind.”

  “And what does your husband say?”

  Margaret hung her head. “I’m afraid Thomas doesn’t yet even know of their existence.”

  “Oh, my child, you’ve got a long road ahead of you. Let’s go to the Lord in prayer.”

  Before she left St. Agnes, Miss Annie petitioned God on her behalf. Margaret thanked her for the prayers and left for the mercantile.

  ~*~

  Arriving at the cottage, Margaret found Pappy snoring in his chair. Somehow he managed to sleep over Josie’s loud coughing. She wasn’t sure which sound drowned out the other.

  With the groceries put away, she fed her patients a boiled chicken and potato soup. Mama always said a hearty broth helped to heal whatever ailed you. Whether true or false she did not know, but
shortly after dinner both Pappy and Josie were fast asleep, and for that, she was thankful.

  Stretching her aching back, she crawled into bed and pulled the covers to her neck. Exhaustion overcame her, but all she could do was cry. Caring for Pappy and Hattie and her children had been a full-time job in itself. Bearing the burden of tending a dying woman and her unborn baby was more than she could handle. Lord, please help me understand Your plan!

  Tears ran down her cheeks into her ears. She wiped them away on the sleeve of her gown and reached to extinguish the lamp when she heard the cottage door open. Startled, she got out of bed, picked up the light, and rushed to see who it was.

  Thomas stood in the doorway, his knapsack slung over his shoulder.

  Margaret ran to him and threw her arms around his neck.

  “Hello to you too, lass,” he said, wrapping his arms around her.

  “Oh, Thomas, I’ve missed you so much.”

  “Aye. It’s good to be home.”

  Her husband sounded as weary as she felt. He shrugged off his pack and turned toward the living room. Margaret grabbed him by the arm and dragged him across the room to the kitchen. She couldn’t let him see Josie—not yet.

  “What are you doing, lass?”

  “Why, I’m going to fix you something to eat, of course. And then we can talk.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not hungry. All I want to do is warm me bones by the fire a bit before I go to bed. I’m sorry, lass.”

  Thomas pulled his arm from her grip. It wasn’t how she planned to tell him what she’d done, but she couldn’t stop him when his mind was made up. Holding his knapsack, he walked into the living room where Josie was sleeping in the corner. He dropped the bag, turned, and returned to the kitchen where Margaret stood, biting her lip and wringing her hands.

  His jaw hung open. He held his palms out in question. “What’s all this now?”

  “I can explain everything.”

  ~*~

  Once Thomas calmed down, Margaret corralled him into their bedroom and helped him undress. She relayed the entire heartbreaking story with him while massaging the knots from his back.

  “Michael came to see her?”

  “Yes… He doesn’t think she’s going to make it.”

  Thomas rolled over and faced her. His brows furrowed atop imploring eyes. “Then why would ye let her stay here? What were ye thinking, Margaret?”

  The disappointment in his voice took her back to being scolded as a child. Her bottom lip quivered. Why couldn’t anyone understand?

  “Because. Miss Annie wouldn’t let her stay at St. Agnes, and I had nowhere else to take her.” She swiped at a tear. “And since you’re already upset with me, you may as well know that I lost my job.”

  Thomas’s eyes grew wide. “What? Yer kidding me, right?” Margaret shook her head, and he groaned falling back against his pillow. “You lost yer job, and now we have an extra mouth to feed. Soon it will be two.”

  “Look at me, Thomas.” Margaret spoke firm, placing her hand on his belly. “I don’t know whether Josie needed me or if I needed her, but one way or another God had a plan in bringing us together.”

  Thomas rolled on his side, supporting his head with his hand. “Oh, you think so?”

  “I believe it with all my heart.” Margaret put her hand to her chest. “You see…Josie doesn’t know Jesus, and I have to tell her about Him before it’s too late.”

  Her handsome husband rubbed his lips together before touching Margaret’s thigh and looking into her eyes. “Well, then…I suppose she’s right where she needs to be.”

  Sniffing back tears, she pulled his head to her chest and placed kisses all over his head. “Oh, Thomas, you’re so wonderful. I’ve never loved you more than I do now. I just want to kiss every inch of you.”

  “Aye, I’m a ver tired man, but I’d be a fool to pass on an offer like that. Come here, lass.”

  He pulled his wife into his arms indulging his craving for her.

  “Oh, Thomas!”

  7

  Third Sunday of Advent ~ Joy

  “Father, God, we rejoice in the imminence of Your coming. Make open our hearts, Lord and reveal what sins we hide within. We light these three candles that we may see Your light shining into the dark places and that we might walk by that light with great joy. Come, Lord, Jesus. Amen.”

  ~*~

  A dish of chicken broth and bits of bread were all Josie could hold down.

  “You need to keep up your strength.” Margaret spooned the rich golden liquid into the girl’s mouth. The baby inside her womb grew with each passing day.

  Josie was weak and could no longer get out of bed. “I don’t want to be a burden.” She stopped eating.

  “Now, lass, you have the babe to think of.” Pappy said gently.

  “Margaret.” Josie touched her arm. “What does it all mean?”

  Margaret placed the spoon in the bowl. “What does what mean?”

  “That thing y’all do every Sunday when you light the candles and say the prayers.”

  Thank you, Jesus. Margaret set aside the dish, overjoyed her prayer had been answered. “Oh, you mean Advent. It’s a part of our Christmas celebration. Hm. Where should I begin? I’ll be right back.” She retrieved her Bible from the side table in the bedroom. Returning to the main room, she flipped to the New Testament and sat on the floor next to Josie. She told the story the way Mama shared it with her children. “The Bible says that before the Virgin Mary married Joseph, she became pregnant by the Holy Ghost. Do you know who Mary and Joseph are?”

  “Yes, Mary is the mother of Jesus.”

  “That’s right. Jesus is the Son of Mary and His Father, God.”

  “I know. There was a nun who came to the parlor house and prayed to Mary and Jesus for us. She said we were all going to hell for our sins if we didn’t repent.”

  Margaret hugged her Bible to her chest. “But God made a way to save you from the pit of hell through His Son, Jesus who was born of the Virgin Mary and led a sinless life.”

  Josie patted her round tummy and looked away. The words virgin and sinless seemed to bother her. Margaret put her hand on Josie’s arm.

  “You aren’t the only sinner here. I sin every day. In fact, the Bible says we’ve all sinned, and we all come short of the glory of God.”

  “I don’t understand what that means.” Josie’s lips tightened.

  “It means that because God is holy and perfect, He can’t be in the presence of sin, and as I said, we’re all sinners. The Bible also says that the wages of sin is death.”

  Josie twisted her mouth to the side. “So if we’re all sinners and the wages of sin is death, and God can’t be around sin then how can any of us get into heaven?”

  Margaret nodded. “One of my favorite Bible verses is John three sixteen.” She turned to the book of John in her Bible and showed it to Josie as she read. “It says, for God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life. Do you know what that means, Josie? It means that God loves you and me so very much that instead of letting us die and go to hell for our sins, He sent His precious Son, Jesus to die in our place.”

  “On the cross.” Josie’s voice cracked.

  “Yes, He was nailed to the cross, and He died for our sins. But He didn’t stay dead. Jesus rose from the grave, and He still lives, and if you confess your sins and believe on Him, you can be saved.”

  Josie turned her head away from Margaret. Was she crying?

  “Josie, do you want to pray and ask Jesus into your heart?”

  The young woman looked up at Margaret. Her eyes glistened with tears. “I’m sorry, but no one can save me from all my sins.” Her lip quivered. “Not even Jesus.”

  No, Lord!

  Margaret rubbed her lips together and tried not to scream at her for doubting the power of the Almighty. She collected herself. “Oh, Josie, the blood of Jesus can make the darkest of sin as
white as snow.”

  “I, I need to think about it. I’m very tired now.”

  Margaret nodded and patted her arm. “I’ll let you get some rest.” She rose from the floor and collected the dishes. There was nothing more she could do, but pray the seed God had planted would take root in the young woman’s heart.

  ~*~

  Joise grew weaker every day. Margaret lifted the girl up to cough, afraid she’d choke on her own phlegm. Moving the slop jar close to the pallet, she leaned her head toward it. “Spit it out in the bucket.”

  The poor girl wretched up a bloody clod, and finally the hacking stopped.

  Margaret lowered her onto the pillows and bathed her forehead with a damp rag.

  Josie gasped for breath.

  “There, there.” How much time did she have left with Josie? Would she accept the Lord in time?

  Margaret rose and headed to the kitchen. Pulling back the cover of the makeshift smoker Pappy built beside the fireplace, she checked on a batch of haddock. The strong aroma filled her lungs. The fish would be the perfect addition to their Christmas dinner.

  On the kitchen counter were the last few items from her shopping trip. She hadn’t had a chance to put them away. How could a spool of thread, a bag of popping corn and some cranberries cause her so much worry? The thread, she needed to finish sewing the dress and romper for her younger siblings. It would likely take her all night, but she had to get their gifts in the mail by morning.

  The corn and cranberries she’d planned to string together with Mikey and the girls to hang on the family tree. She scolded herself for forgetting to buy paper and ribbon for the other decorations. A glance around the cottage reminded her she had done nothing to brighten the place for the coming holiday. A long, defeated sigh escaped her lips. One more thing to add to the growing list of what needed to be done.

  Margaret reached for the bag of corn but froze as Josie screamed in pain. She ran to the pallet and knelt beside her. The girl lay clutching the sides of her belly.