“In much the same way as Charles mentioned,” Eli said, “God used these amazing people to glue us back together and paint over our scars. They showed us an unconditional love that mirrored Christ’s, and because of that, we learned how to trust Him again with our lives. We were able to move beyond our trauma and allow Christ to do His good work in our hearts.” Eli lowered his eyes, and as he glanced at his arms, his vision blurred out of focus. “Their example has confirmed in my heart how greatly I desire to pass on the love that they showed us.”
He cleared his throat and wiped his eyes. “And it is that same absolute acceptance that I’m asking you to show these children as well. Charles and I would like to invite you to be a part of our ministry. We hope you feel led to help us raise the children out of their previous circumstances and into a better understanding of God’s plan for their lives. Please come and talk with us after the service; we will be happy to answer any of your questions. Thank you for your support and encouragement.”
As Eli was about to step down from the pulpit, a voice spoke out. It was Edgar Johnson, asking a question in a tone he couldn’t interpret.
“I assume you’re asking us to help fund your ministry. Exactly how much are you trying to get from us?”
“No,” Eli said, surprised by his query. “Our ministry is fully funded. We’re asking for your help in other ways. First and foremost, the children could use your prayers. You can also pray for the staff and volunteers. Another way you can help is by simply encouraging them and accepting them into our community when they are emotionally healthy enough to come out in public. Please keep in mind what Charles said earlier: this ministry requires discretion and privacy. Of course, any of you are welcome to volunteer at the home, but there is required training for all volunteers.
“We estimate having no more than six to eight children living in the home at any given time, but there will be plenty of occasions to pour love into them. Are there any other questions?” As he looked around the sanctuary, several hands rose.
Charles joined him in answering the many questions asked that morning. After Edgar, however, the others only sought clarification on volunteering opportunities. As they continued to share with the church, Eli winked at Ada, who smiled proudly as she watched him.
Eli stared at the flickering and popping flames as he enjoyed the company of his family sitting around the fire with him. A peaceful, lazy feeling accompanied the cool March evening. It had been a long time since he was able to spend his birthday with all of them, and he realized he might not get the chance again. The group would be permanently splitting up in just under a week. Of course, he would still take Ada and Sarah to visit the winter camp every fall, and he was sure Jed, Rosa, and Tony would accompany them. But a melancholy mood nagged at his thoughts and threatened to disturb the tranquility of the evening.
Tony plucked gently on his guitar as the group sat in silence. Friends and neighbors had stopped by randomly throughout the day to wish Eli a happy birthday. Each small group stayed for several minutes at a time, and many of these visits overlapped. The day was full and social, but as the sun began to hover on the horizon, the guests slowly filtered home, and the caravan was left to their serene respite around the fire.
The silence was interrupted when Ira sighed and glanced around the circle. He nodded at Floyd before turning to Eli. “It was really good to hear your testimony,” he said as the others agreed. “It meant a great deal to hear what you said about us. We’re all grateful that God chose us to be your family and trusted us to help you through those times. I think I’m speaking for everyone when I say that you and Ada have been a large blessing in our lives too.”
Eli crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Then why do I feel like I’m causing the caravan to fall apart?” He glanced at Tony, who had stopped playing his instrument.
Ira shook his head. “God doesn’t want us to be stagnant. He brought you into our lives to stir us up. Eli, what you’re doing here is a good thing, and I am honored to think I might have had even a small part in helping you find your purpose. But I have a question about something you said. You mentioned that the rescued children may be too traumatized at first to go out in public. That comment brought back memories of our first summer with you. I remember how scared and untrusting you both were.” Ira glanced at the young couple sitting across from him. “I was wondering what you plan to do for the children who are too scared to go to church on Sunday mornings.”
Eli nodded slowly. “Charles and I have talked about the possibility of holding a late afternoon service just for the kids. Or, maybe a Saturday night service. We haven’t finalized those plans yet, and to be honest, we haven’t asked Marcus about it.”
“What if I led a small service every Sunday morning, right in the children’s home?” Ira asked, throwing a quick smile at Goldie.
Eli studied the couple for a moment before his eyes traveled around the circle. “Are you saying…?” He paused and leaned forward in his chair. He didn’t know if he could voice the rest of his question. “Are you saying you want to stay?” he managed. Ira nodded.
“We talked about it last night,” Floyd added. “We all want to stay and help you; all of us. What do you say? Will you have us?”
Ada covered her mouth as tears filled her eyes. Sarah wiggled her feet as she and Lilly tried to hold in their squeals. Eli sniffed and cleared his throat as he pressed his lips together and nodded.
“Absolutely,” he whispered.
Everyone stood and hugged each other. The caravan laughed through their tears, and the two little girls were finally able to let their giggles spill over. As the evening continued, their discussion focused on plans for the caravan’s transition. Myra, Lily, and Sarah would stay in East Haven with Ada and Rosa while the rest of the caravan traveled back to the winter camp on the first of April. After informing Mrs. Perry of the move, they would dismantle the camp, pack up what they needed, and return by the end of the week.
When these plans were agreed upon, everyone said goodnight and went their separate ways. Once inside, Eli put out the lantern and pulled the blanket around them. He leaned toward Ada and rubbed her round belly. He could just make out her silhouette in the dark. She placed her head against him and sighed happily.
“You’ve had a good birthday,” she said.
“Yes, and your prayer has been more than answered,” he replied.
“Oh, Eli! Do you know how happy I am right now?”
He reached up and wiped away the joyful tears he knew he would find on her cheeks. “Yeah, I think I have an idea,” he said. “Are you okay with me going to the winter camp? I don’t have to go if you don’t want me to.”
“No, you should go. I’m sure they’ll appreciate the help.”
“Maybe I should stay. Everyone will understand if I don’t go.”
“What’s wrong, Eli? Why are you changing your mind?”
He was quiet for a moment. He reached his arm around her and pulled her in close. “You’re almost as far along as you were when we lost Ruth Ann,” he said quietly. “And that also happened in April. Maybe I should stay.”
She placed her hand on his chest. “Things already feel different this time,” she said. “And I know how to rest when I need to. I feel God’s peace; no matter what happens this time, I trust Him with everything. You can stay if you want, but I don’t think you need to. And if you go, you can visit the willow tree one last time for both of us.”
Eli kissed her on the forehead. “Okay,” he said, closing his eyes. “I’ll go.”
JOHN
John rode his horse onto the Gardners’ property and went straight to the construction site, knowing that was where he would find Eli. He held two ropes in his free hand, each one pulled a cow behind him—his two best cows. Eli met him as he swung out of his saddle.
“John,” he said, glancing at the animals. “I wasn’t expecting to see you until tomorrow.”
“Yeah well, I freed up my afternoon. Best th
ing I ever did was make Isaac my foreman. Should’ve done it sooner. I missed out on a lot of things.”
“Well, I’ve certainly appreciated it,” Eli said. “I’m not sure you realize how helpful you’ve been. You’ve volunteered a lot of your time to the children’s home—and to helping me with the addition on my place.”
John peered at the new construction as he took off his hat and wiped away the sweat on his brow. The mid-July sun was beating down hard and the ride to the Gardners’ took longer, due to pulling the cows.
“I’ve enjoyed it,” he admitted. “Your architect has added some impressive features to both places. Your house is real modern now, and it didn’t take too long to finish. I think I’d like to make some updates to my home. Agnes would like that. And now I know how to go about it.” John glanced at the ground and rubbed the back of his neck. “I think after this harvest, it should only take me two more seasons to pay everything off.” He tilted his head toward Eli and squinted. “I’m gonna keep giving half my profits to charity. That should still allow for a couple of home improvements.” He cleared his throat. “I know you said I didn’t have to tell you where I was giving the money, but I thought you might like to hear that I’ve been giving it to the orphanage where Sarah was living. I figure it must be a good institution if it produced a girl like her.”
Eli smiled. “Thanks, John. That means a lot.” After a pause, he pointed to the animals. “What’s with the cows?”
“Oh, yeah. These are my two best milkers,” John said. “I want to give them to the home. All those children are going to need some dairy in their meals. I could show how to milk them and teach the kids how to make cheese and butter. What you don’t use in the kitchen could be sold to help cover some of the cost of running the place. I know you’ve got that all figured out, Eli, but if those kids feel like they’re contributing, it might help with their healing. I guess you would know best about that, though.”
“I think it’s a great idea,” he said. “Thank you.”
“Also,” John continued, “I thought I could help the kids plant some corn—and maybe some other vegetables. I think you have enough land for a few small crops. I can show them how to work the land; it’ll be good for them to learn that skill. Don’t worry about what the cows are going to eat. I’ll bring over some feed every week. You can put them in your stables until we build a barn for them. I’ll help with that, too.”
“John, that’s really thoughtful. I can’t thank you enough. If we get some chickens, we’ll almost be self-sustaining,” he said with a laugh. “But seriously, this will make a big difference in our food budget. It means a lot. Why don’t we put the animals inside before the sun gets too warm for them?”
As the men led John’s horse and the cattle toward the stable, they decided on a time to meet with Charles to discuss building a small barn with a milking station. Once they got the animals situated, they stood in the cool shade of the outbuilding and peered out at the horizon.
“Ada seems to be doing well,” John said. “It’s getting close now, isn’t it? You nervous?”
Eli chuckled. “Just a couple more weeks. Probably early August. I think I’m more relieved now than nervous. We didn’t make it this far last time.” John shifted his eyes toward Eli; he didn’t know that part of their past. “But this one is going well.” He grinned at John. “Of course, I’m sure I’ll be a lot more nervous when her time comes.”
“Nah, you’ll be fine,” John said, slapping him on the back. “Hey, isn’t this home supposed to open in a couple of months? Let’s get back to work; you’ve slacked off enough for today.”
“Me? I’ve been here all morning!” Eli argued. “You’re the one who just showed up,”
John scratched behind his ear and put his hat back on, chuckling under his breath. “You know, I still want to punch you,” he confessed.
Eli laughed and shook his head. “Yeah, but I’d still win.”
“I don’t know. You’re starting to get old, ‘boy.’ And I’m feeling pretty good these days.”
The men continued their bantering as they walked back to the construction site.
ELI
“Eli, wake up…”
It was a hot night; Eli kicked off his blankets. In a half-sleep, he reached across the bed. Ada must feel miserable in this heat. As he patted along the mattress, he found her side empty. He sat up and rubbed at his eyes, trying to shake the heavy sleep from his thoughts. Did she call out to him? A voice echoed in his mind, but it seemed more like a memory than reality.
“Ada,” he whispered. There was only silence. He glanced at the bed to make sure it was empty and then pushed himself to a stand. As he walked down the hall, he regretted not taking the time to light the lantern. He saw Ada’s silhouette standing motionless in the dining room. “Why are you up?” he asked. She didn’t answer; she leaned forward and let out a long breath. He reached for her, and she gripped onto his arm.
“Get Rosa,” she finally said in a shaky voice but wouldn’t let go of him.
“Do you need me to take you back to the room first?” he asked. She shook her head. “Is it the baby? Why didn’t you wake me?” She kept holding onto him as if her hand had a mind of its own. “Ada, I can’t get Rosa if you’re holding onto me. Are you going to be okay?”
She nodded, glancing at her hand and slowly letting go of him. “I’ll be fine.”
Eli ran to Jed and Rosa’s room. After the addition was finished, they moved Sarah into one of the upstairs rooms, but Jed and Rosa decided to stay on the main floor—at least until the baby was born. He tapped lightly on their door.
“Rosa?” he called. He could hear them stirring. When Jed opened the door, Rosa was tying her robe. She was more alert then her husband, who stood in the doorway rubbing his eyes. Eli looked past him. “Rosa, Ada’s asking for you. I think it’s time!” That statement seemed to perk Jed up.
“Is she in your room?” Rosa asked.
“No, the dining room,” he replied. Rosa went out to find her while Eli grabbed another lantern. When he caught up to them, Rosa was helping Ada into a chair.
“I thought there might be a knock on my door tonight,” she said with an encouraging smile. “You had that look about you all day.”
“What look?” Ada asked.
“There’s a look women get when they’re about to go into labor. I saw it yesterday. How long have you been having contractions?”
“They’ve been waking me up all night, but I’ve been able to sleep between them until now,” she said. And then, as if on cue, she went into another wave of pain that made her grip the chair. The pain faded as she breathed through it.
Eli knelt in front of her and rubbed her arm. “Can I do anything, Ada?” he asked. She rolled into another contraction and shook her head as she concentrated on her breathing. Rosa put a hand on his shoulder.
“You can help me get her back to your room. I hope you’re ready to meet your baby, Eli. Her pains are close together; it won’t be long now.
SARAH
Grandpa Jed woke Sarah while it was still dark. Mama just had her baby and they sat in the lantern light waiting for Grandma to come get them. This was supposed to be an exciting time, but she wasn’t sure how she felt. Since Papa was happy, she tried to be as well. She wondered if it was a boy or a girl.
She picked up Clara, wrapped her in a small blanket, and cradled the doll in her arms just like she imagined mama would hold the new baby. She tried to pretend it was a real baby, but Clara looked like a grownup; it wasn’t the same.
“You look like a mama yourself,” Grandpa said. “You’ll be good at holding the baby even before you—”
The door opened, and Grandma peeked in. “Come on, Sarah. They’re asking for you.”
She followed her grandparents down the stairs to Mama and Papa’s room. As she walked into the dimly lit space, Papa came to her with an elated grin. He held out his hand and led her to the bed where Mama was holding a wrapped bundle close to her.
Mama’s face was red and shiny, and even though she looked tired, she was wearing the prettiest smile Sarah had ever seen.
“Sarah,” Papa said quietly, “We want you to meet William.” She leaned toward Mama and peered down at the little baby boy.
“This is William Arthur,” Mama whispered as she turned the bundle toward the girl and pushed aside the edge of the blanket. His little red fists were balled up and resting beside his ears. He stretched his tiny pink mouth into a large yawn and made a squeaking noise at the end of it. He was beautiful, and she couldn’t help giving a piece of her heart to him.
Suddenly, a heavy weight pressed in on her chest; her eyes blurred, and tears trickled down her cheeks. Papa put his hand on her back and knelt down. That used to make him exactly her height, but she was taller now. She would be turning ten in a couple of months; the two and a half years that she lived with them had gone by so fast. Thinking about it made her cry even more.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“Papa,” she said, rubbing her eyes, “now that you have your own baby, are you going to send me back to the orphanage?” Once the words were spoken, she burst into sobs.
Papa put his arms around her and drew her into a big hug. “Of course not!” he said. “You are my own, Sarah, just as much as William is. I could never send you back.” As he wiped away the tears on her cheeks, Mama reached over and took her hand.
“We love you, Sarah,” she said. “You will always be our daughter, and now you’re William’s big sister. We hope you want the job.”
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