by Emily Woods
Ellen stroked Melly’s messy, tangled hair and surveyed her daughters. “We might have to do some shopping, my girls,” Ellen declared as she looked at the girls’ cheap dresses. “The Davenports are a fine, wealthy Southern family, and I want my girls to look their best when we arrive!”
Bella stuck out her lip and began to pout. “When are we leaving, Mama? Will I have time to say good-bye to our neighbors here at the flat?”
Ellen nodded. “Of course, darling,” she breezily agreed. “We’re leaving one week from tomorrow, my girls, so we shall pack and say our good-byes with joy! We will be leaving Arlington for our new lives, and there is so much hope for our futures!”
That night, as Ellen snuggled between her two daughters in bed, she could not believe her good fortune. Months ago, after struggling to put food on the table for her daughters, Ellen had been overcome with hopelessness and desperation. One day, she left the girls with her neighbors and ventured a few blocks away to the only park left in Arlington after the war. Ellen wept on a broken, splintered park bench, the cold, winter air stinging her thin face.
“Ma’am?” Ellen had heard a voice ask as the tears fell from her dark brown eyes. “Ma’am, you look a bit chilled. Take this newspaper and place it on your lap. It will keep you warm!”
Ellen had looked up to find a middle-aged gentleman smiling at her. She wiped her nose, and he handed her a newspaper. “There, there, ma’am! These are hard times, but the Lord is with you.”
Before Ellen could speak, the man turned on his heel and walked away. She stared after him, her tears slowing. “It is rare to hear such a kind word these days,” Ellen thought as she unfolded the newspaper across her lap. “He was right. It is warmer now,” Ellen admitted. “I will have to try this in church next week. The girls have been cold in the drafty sanctuary, and their winter coats are not suitable for this December weather!”
Ellen leaned back against the park bench, enjoying the rare, precious minutes of silence before she returned to her boisterous daughters. She took a long, slow breath and smiled, still thankful for the stranger’s kindness. Before she rose from the bench to return home, she glanced down, reading the columns on the newspaper pages.
“Marriage advertisements,” Ellen read to herself, raising an eyebrow. “What are marriage advertisements?”
Ellen read column after column, growing more curious with each paragraph. “These are men looking to find brides,” she exclaimed as she scanned another advertisement. “They are from all over the country! This man says he is from the Midwest! This advertisement is from a man in California! How peculiar to find such a strange advertisement in the newspaper. I cannot imagine marrying someone I had never known in person!”
Suddenly, one of the advertisements caught Ellen’s eye. “Ephesians 5:25,” Ellen whispered as she ran her fingers over the paragraph. “This advertisement opens with the same verse that was read at my wedding. That is a wonderful surprise on this gloomy day!”
Ellen read on, her face growing hot. “This man sounds like a wonderful prospect,” she murmured as she reread the words. “Lord, I cannot believe that this advertisement began with one of my favorite verses, but it feels as though You led me to this advertisement…”
Ephesians 5:25: “For husbands, this means love your wives, just as Christ loved the church. He gave up his life for her."
Single, Christian man seeks Godly, sensible wife to join him in Alabama
Healthy, faithful, strong husband-to-be searching for kind-hearted wife
Looking for an educated, refined lady to manage a fine household and serve as a loving companion
Eager to have many children and leave behind a legacy worthy of the family
Serious inquiries only
Ellen’s hands had shaken as she studied the advertisement. She had grown up in a wealthy, well-educated family, and she knew what the man in the advertisement was seeking. He was likely a war widower from a good family, and Ellen sensed that her upbringing and former life of wealth and status would serve this man well.
“I wonder what would happen if I were to respond to this advertisement,” Ellen had thought aloud as she stood from the bench and brushed the dust off of her skirts. “My little family cannot go on like this. I don’t need wealth or power or prestige, but I do need enough food to provide for my children! From what I have read, it sounds like this man and I might have some things and experiences in common. I wonder what he would say if I were to reach out to him…”
Ellen spent the next few days praying over the marriage advertisement. She felt a tug of her heartstrings each time she imagined a father for her children, as well as the smiles on the girls’ faces if they had more to eat, and finally, Ellen responded to the inquiry.
My name is Ellen Grace Mosely, and I am a war widow. I was raised in a loving, Godly home, and I have tried to create that for my daughters.
We lost everything in the war; my husband was finally reported dead after being missing-in-action, and we were unable to retain our many assets. We had to leave our beautiful home and sell our things in order to survive. It has been hard on my daughters to have so many changes in their short lives, but I try to remind them that while we do not have our fine lifestyle or material possessions anymore, we do have our spirits, our faith, our health, and each other. This war has demonstrated to me that those four things are the most important; things can be replaced, and homes can be rebuilt, but if children and families do not have a strong, Godly foundation for living, they will not grow to become faithful, intentional adults of good character.
I am a sensible, well-educated woman, Mr. Davenport; I was educated at a boarding school in France with my sisters, and upon returning to the states, I was married at age seventeen. I am not as young as I was when I married, but I am certainly young enough to bear children; I am in good health, and it was not difficult to conceive my two daughters. I hope to bear sons someday as well, and I look forward to building a large family; my daughters deserve a happy, unified family, and I hope to give them that someday.
Mr. Davenport, I apologize if this is too much information, but I must say how interested I am in your marriage advertisement. With my upbringing and interests, as well as my sensible spirit and willingness to serve a husband well, I believe I would add significant value to your family. If you are interested in beginning a correspondence, please do not hesitate to respond.
I have been praying for my future, Mr. Davenport, and I believe that it was the Lord’s will that I see your advertisement. I will pray for you as well, and I do hope that you find everything you are seeking through your marriage advertisement.
Now, within only months of posting her first letter to Henry Davenport, Ellen Grace Mosely was engaged. “You heard me, Lord,” Ellen praised God the morning after receiving Henry’s proposal letter. “You heard my prayers and knew my desires. You have given this fresh beginning to my daughters and me, Lord, and I know that You will be faithful along our journey to Alabama!”
5
“That must be her,” Henry declared as a smiling woman walked toward him in the train station. His heart sank when the woman walked on by, and Henry turned to look at his mother. “Where are they? The train arrived nearly an hour ago! Surely Ellen did not miss the train?”
Mrs. Davenport patted her son’s hand. “It will be fine, Henry,” she told him. “Even if she missed the train, she will be on the next one. Have faith, dear. This desperation is unbecoming.”
Henry bit his bottom lip. He was dressed in his finest clothes, and after weeks of anticipation, he was eager to meet his bride-to-be. Ellen had posted a letter from a stop on the train a few days ago informing Henry that she and her daughters would be arriving today, and Henry could hardly stand the waiting. “What if she changed her mind?” Henry asked his mother.
Mrs. Davenport, also dressed in her finest, gave her son a stern look. She fingered the ruby necklace draped around her elegant neck, shaking her head and raising an eyebrow. “H
enry,” she said slowly. “Enough. You have prayed for this woman, and she will arrive!”
Henry closed his eyes. “You are right,” he conceded. “I am just nervous! Forgive me, my dear mother.”
Mrs. Davenport leaned over and kissed Henry’s cheek. “I have something to tell you,” she confessed, whispering in Henry’s ear. “I am nervous as well. This woman will be the wife of my son, and she will be the mother of my grandchildren! She will provide heirs to my family fortune, and she will run my household after I am gone…”
“Mother!” Henry exclaimed as the loud whistle of a train filled his ears.
“It’s true,” Mrs. Davenport insisted. “This woman is important, Henry, and my heart is filled with nerves. But, my son, the Lord’s hand is guiding this situation. He is bringing this woman to you to fill your heart with love and joy, and we must trust in Him as He leads you to love!”
Henry’s lips turned upward into a grin. “Mama?”
“Yes, dear?” Mrs. Davenport asked.
Henry embraced his mother in the middle of the station. “I know the last few years have been hard,” Henry admitted. “I know it was terrible for you when I was gone and you believed me to be dead, and I know it was difficult for you to see me last year when I was so heartbroken.”
“It was difficult,” Mrs. Davenport agreed. “The last few years have been filled with trials and tribulations that I never could have imagined! Losing your father and your brothers broke my heart, Henry, but getting you back last year was the happiest I had been in my entire life. Now, to see you on the verge of joy with a wife has my heart feeling the same waves of hope, my son! It is time for you to find happiness now, my son, and I believe that your happiness will soon walk through the platform doors…”
Henry grinned. “You are right,” he admitted. “We have been through so much, and it is time for me to open my heart. I am the man of this family now, and it is time for me to have a wife by my side. Ellen’s letters have brought peace to my spirit, and I am eager to know her and to love her like a husband should—like Jesus loved the church! I cannot wait to meet this Ellen and her daughters, and I hope that we have all of the joy together that the Lord can give us.”
“Henry?”
Henry and Mrs. Davenport spun around to find a woman and two little girls staring up at them. The woman was exquisitely beautiful, with a tiny waist and dark ringlets pinned back around her face, and enormous dark eyes that shined as she smiled at Henry. The little girls looked like miniature versions of the woman, and they beamed as Henry’s jaw dropped.
“Ellen?” Henry asked as the woman nodded. “Is it truly you?”
Henry’s heart fluttered as the woman nodded, a smile filling her face. “I am Ellen Grace Mosely,” she stated, dipping into a low curtsey as Henry stared at her. “It is a pleasure and an honor to make your acquaintance, Mister Davenport.”
Henry could not tear his eyes from Ellen. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on, and all he wanted to do was press her to his chest in an embrace. He knew that he needed to hold back, though. They were not married yet, and he knew the importance of respecting Ellen’s status as an unmarried woman.
“Papa! Are you our new papa?”
Henry bent down to greet the older of Ellen’s two girls. “You must be Bella!” Henry declared. “Bella, my name is Henry Davenport, but tomorrow, after the wedding ceremony, I will be your new papa. It is very nice to meet you!”
Bella threw herself into Henry’s arms, and he laughed as he spun her around. “What a good girl,” he cooed. Henry loved children. He adored his many nieces and nephews, and he was always struck with melancholy when his sisters and their families left the Davenport Plantation after their extended holiday stays. Henry could hardly wait to begin his own family, but for now, he was enamored of the two little girls staring up at him in adoration.
“Papa?”
Henry reached down and took the other little girl into his arms. “You must be Melly! Hello, Melly! You two are beauties, just like your mother!”
Out of the corner of his eye, Henry saw Ellen blush, and he felt his body grow warm as he imagined all of the other ways he hoped to garner her attention when she became his wife.
“Ahem,” Mrs. Davenport cleared her throat, and Henry returned the two little girls to the ground.
“Forgive me,” Henry apologized. “Ellen Grace Mosely, may I introduce you to my darling mother?”
Ellen nodded enthusiastically and bent down into another low curtsy. “It is an honor and a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Ellen murmured. “I am very pleased to be in Alabama with my children, and we are eternally grateful for your hospitality.”
Mrs. Davenport beamed. “The pleasure is all ours,” she declared as she dipped into a curtsey of her own. “We are thrilled to have you here in Alabama, Miss Ellen! You have made my son very happy through your correspondences, and I pray that the Lord brings the pair of you much joy!”
Henry saw Melly yawn, and he scooped her into his arms again. “You all look exhausted,” he said as Ellen nodded. “Come, let’s take you back to the house. We have a carriage here to travel home in, and you all can get some rest before our first dinner together.”
Ellen smiled softly. “That would be lovely,” she agreed. “We are quite tired from the journey. We have spent nearly a month on the train, and while the girls loved it in the beginning, I know that they are excited to nap and play!”
Bella giggled. “We want to see our new home!”
Mrs. Davenport reached for Bella’s hand and squeezed it. “Well, come along then,” she directed. “Bella, Melly, and dear Ellen, my new daughter-to-be, let’s go to your new home!”
6
“And after the ceremony, Missus Davenport arranged for a party in the ballroom,” Hilda, one of the servants, informed Ellen as she helped her dress. “It will be different than the parties they used to have here before the war, but I know it will still be lovely! My sister works over at the Meyers Plantation, and she overheard her mistress saying that Missus Davenport spent a small fortune on this wedding and the party!”
The color drained from Ellen’s face as she listened to Hilda. “A small fortune?” Ellen cried. “I don’t need that kind of luxury. I am just happy to be here, away from Arlington, safe and warm in a house filled with love and happiness!”
Hilda laughed. “You do not understand how it is with the Davenports, do you?”
Ellen cocked her head to the side. “What do you mean, Hilda?”
Hilda sighed. “The Davenports were the wealthiest family around before the war,” she informed her new mistress. “And, somehow, while most everyone lost everything in the war, they came out wealthier than ever! When Henry returned home last year, the house was restored and the lands were taken care of, and now, it’s as if the war never happened!”
Ellen shrugged. “I knew most of that,” she said to Hilda as she flashed her engagement ring at her. “I knew the Davenports had some money, but I did not expect them to spend this much on me! I have already been married once! I do not need this kind of finery!”
Hilda rolled her eyes. “Like I said, you do not understand how it is with the Davenports, do you? You are marrying the heir to one of the largest fortunes in the South, Miss Ellen! The amount of money they are spending on this wedding is a drop in the bucket compared to the money they have saved up. Look around you, Miss Ellen!”
Ellen obeyed the maid, turning to look at the elegant guest bedroom she had been assigned at the Davenport Plantation. The massive four-poster bed sat across from a marble fireplace engraved with the family crest, and a grand, colorful Persian rug was in the center of the wooden floor. An intricately-carved wardrobe brimming with new gowns for Ellen stood in the corner, and an array of jewelry spilled out of a French jewelry case sitting on the mahogany writing desk in the other corner.
“They shipped in jewelry and gowns from Paris for your arrival,” Hilda informed Ellen. “The Davenports made
sure every detail of this room would be to your liking! Missus Davenport knew every detail of your wedding dress down to the color of each individual stitch, and she has made every effort to ensure you and your daughters feel like part of the family!”
Ellen’s eyes filled with tears. “I am a blessed woman,” she said quietly.
“Yes, you are!” Hilda agreed, eyeing Ellen’s reddening face and shaking her head. “Stop those tears, Miss Ellen! It’s your wedding day! You mustn’t ruin your complexion. Come! Let me help you prepare. It’s a special day, and you want to look your very best for Henry, don’t you?”
Three hours later, Hilda had helped transform Ellen into a beautiful Southern bride. While Ellen was not the seventeen-year-old bride she once was, her face looked young and radiant, and she grinned as she studied her reflection in the floor-length mirror. “Oh, Hilda!” Ellen cried. “You have made me into the most beautiful bride!”
Hilda appeared pleased with her handiwork, and she bent down to fluff the bottom of Ellen’s milky-white wedding dress. “You are a beautiful bride,” Hilda agreed. “Come, let’s bring your little girls in here! They will be pleased to see their mama looking like a true Southern belle!”
Hilda left to fetch the girls, and Ellen could not take her eyes off of her reflection. Hilda had washed Ellen’s long, curly dark hair, taming the typically wild dark ringlets with a balm that had left Ellen’s hair feeling soft and luxurious. Hilda had wound Ellen’s locks into an elegant bun and fastened a pearl-embroidered snood atop Ellen’s head. “We’ll pin your veil to the snood later,” Hilda bossily informed Ellen. “The veil is an antique. It was worn by Henry’s mother, and her mother, and her mother on their wedding days, so we’d best not fasten it on quite yet!”
After finishing Ellen’s hair, Hilda had helped Ellen step into a new whalebone hoop-skirt. “This is the height of fashion here in Alabama,” Hilda said as she tied the velvet straps around Ellen’s narrow waist. “These whalebone hoop-skirts cost more than I earn in a year! I hope you enjoy wearing that one, Miss Ellen! It will make your dress look just perfect!”