Love's Abiding Joy

by Janette Oke

  “Ya lookin’ fer the man?”

  At the sound of Clark’s voice, Marty flushed, embarrassed to be caught staring about out of curiosity. Her eyes admitted to Clark that she had indeed been looking for “the poor man.”

  Clark was quick to ease her guilt. “I was, too,” he confessed. “Did ya spot ’im?”

  Marty shook her head.

  “Me neither,” said Clark and then began to chuckle.

  Marty looked at him in surprise.

  “Thet is,” went on Clark, “till I looked at myself.”

  “Yerself?”

  Clark chuckled again.

  “He was talkin’ ’bout me, Marty.”

  “You?”

  Then Marty’s gaze fell to the pinned-up empty pant leg and the crutch in Clark’s hand. Her breath caught in a little gasp. It was true. The boy was speaking of Clark—and “the poor man” was chuckling!

  Then Marty saw it—the humor of it, the glory of it. They both had completely forgotten that Clark was considered handicapped—“ the poor man.” They reached for each other and laughed together till tears of joy ran freely down their faces.