Knowing she would return soon from the washroom, Phillip removed his own clothes; wore his sleeping attire and slid into the bed, leaving sufficient space for Amelia. She returned, with her hair loose and falling over her shoulders. She resembled an angel against the light of the lamp—a tiny angel. He did not let his eyes stray to the rest of her, but instead shut them resolutely.
He felt her body slide in and he reached for the oil lamp and turned it off. Phillip knew that he was a disappointment to her, as much as she was to him, but they both had to learn to live with their mistakes. For tonight, he just wanted to sleep and not worry about what awaited him the following morning.
SIX
The Preacher’s Congregation
Amelia felt flustered as she walked into the front room rubbing her eyes. She was a natural early riser and it annoyed her that on her first morning as a married woman, she had overslept. The sun was out and she found Phillip by his desk, his head bowed in concentration.
“Good morning,” Amelia said, biting back the word that she desperately wanted to add - ‘husband’.
“Good morning to you too,” Phillip replied without looking up. “The service is an hour’s time.”
Amelia was a little taken aback by the sharpness of Phillip’s tone. She returned to the bedroom, selected her clothes for the service and lay them on the bed. That done, she went to the kitchen, lit the stove and put the kettle for tea. As the water heated, she searched the pantry for something for breakfast and sighed when she only came across a stale chunk of bread.
It would have to do, but after the service she would tell Phillip to take her to the general store. The kitchen needed stocking up. Not that there was much room to store things. She carried the two cups to the living room as well as the chunk of bread.
“Breakfast is ready,” Amelia said to Phillip’s back.
He nodded. “I’ll be there in a while. Continue without me, I need to finish the sermon.”
Amelia drunk her tea quietly, feeling like one did when visiting a home you had never been to before. The room was bare except for the furnishings. There were no pictures or decorations on the wall. Her mind turned to last night and how disappointing it had been to lie next to someone who would not speak to her.
She felt like an apparition lying there, and lonelier than she had ever felt. Would it be this way between them? She knew that he needed time to know her and discover that there was more to her than her tiny frame. But it was difficult to feel optimistic when your new husband was so very cold to you. She had prayed half the night for divine intervention. Amelia knew that nothing was impossible for the Lord, but right now it all felt so hopeless.
She finished her tea, and took the cup to the kitchen. With nothing else to do, she filled a pail of warm water from the stove and took it with her to the washroom. She hadn’t had a proper bath the previous night and she looked forward to scrubbing her whole body. It was while she was dressing that Phillip walked in.
She was only clad in her petticoat and she fought the urge to use her hands to cover herself up when Phillip walked in. He stopped and his eyes roamed over her near naked body. Amelia was tiny but she lacked nothing that other women had. She looked at Phillip right back, proud of herself and her body.
The Lord had made her that way for a reason. A fire lit on her belly and spread to the rest of her. No matter what Phillip did, from then onwards, she would not let it dampen her spirits. That decision made, Amelia continued with her dressing and even hummed a hymn. When she was done, she took a comb and ran it through her hair and then held the mane of hair at the back of her head into a tight bun.
“Will this do?” she said turning to Phillip.
“Yes, it’s lovely,” he said, his voice coming out choked.
Amelia fished her bible from her bag and walked out of the room with all the dignity she could muster. She wondered idly what he would preach about. Moments later, he walked in clad in a cassock and a white collar. Amelia drew a sharp breathe. He looked so handsome and serious with his round spectacles perched over his eyes.
“Shall we?” he said.
He offered his arm and then withdrew it making Amelia giggle.
“We will look ridiculous walking arm in arm when I only come up to your waistline,” she said amid laughter.
He cracked a smile then and she followed him out. In the church, Amelia busied herself wiping down the benches with a cloth she had found outside and arranging them properly. When she heard footsteps and voices outside the church, she hurriedly went to sit on the front bench. Her body was tense because she knew that Phillip would have to introduce her to his congregation.
Just then, she felt a warm body slide next to her and when she looked up, it was to Mercy’s smiling face.
They squeezed each other’s hands and whispered greetings to each other.
“You look beautiful,” Mercy said and Amelia smiled at her gratefully.
It was wonderful to have her friend next to her. She could hear the benches behind her filling up but Amelia did not turn back. A woman at the back led in the singing and after a few songs, Phillip stood up. She felt so proud of him that she could burst. The man standing in front of the congregation was her own husband and she felt a swell of love for him.
“I have a very special announcement to make this morning,” Phillip begun.
The church was completely silent and Amelia thought she could hear her heart beating rapidly. Mercy squeezed her hand, but Amelia felt too devoid of energy to respond in kind.
“I have prayed for a long time and I know many of you have prayed with me. Well, this morning I would like to introduce all of you to my wife, Amelia Gibson.”
Amelia felt a thrill run through her at her new name coming from Phillip’s mouth. The people clapped and Phillip beckoned for her to join him at the front. When she stood up, she waited for the gasp but none came, instead, all she heard was thunderous applause. She stood next to her husband and faced the congregation with tears in her eyes.
She did not know what she had expected, but not the smiles and friendly looks she received from everyone. She sat back down and this time she was the one who squeezed Mercy’s hand.
“Our sermon today will be on prayerful patience,” Phillip’s deep voice boomed through the church. “The scriptures tell us in the book of Philippians chapter four verse six; Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, let your requests be known to God… ”
Amelia heard a sob and when she looked up was shocked to find tears running down Mercy’s face.
“Mercy?” Amelia hissed and got her friend’s attention.
Her face looked so haunted that she hardly resembled the Mercy that Amelia knew. She did not pay much attention to the rest of the service, her mind at a loss at what could have caused such distress in Mercy.
“Nothing of importance,” Mercy sniffed. “It’s just, we have been trying for a long time and I am still not pregnant. Amelia looked at her stunned. Hurriedly she whispered, “It will happen. I have faith it will.”
Her friend smiled at her sadly, then wiped her tears and continued to listen to the sermon. Although Amelia knew it was selfish, she felt a bit jealous of Mercy. She had a husband who wanted to start a family with her. Amelia looked at Phillip, and sighed, there relationship was nowhere near that – despite the vows they had taken.
SEVEN
Ministering Across the State
“We must carry just what we need for the week otherwise the horses will be too laden and they’ll tire easily,” Phillip said, walking into their bedroom.
“I don’t have much anyhow,” Amelia answered.
She had packed each of them a few clothes in one case and now she shut it and Phillip took it. He carried it outside to the back of the wagon. He hoped that Amelia was ready to go. The sooner they got started on their journey, the earlier they would reach Newton, which was half a day’s journey away by wagon.
He m
et her just as she was locking the door and felt pleasantly surprised by her speed. He had had complaints from men how slow women were in getting ready. Not so Amelia. He helped her up the wagon and got in on the other side. He pulled the reins and they began to move. He noticed Amelia looking back at the house and he wondered what was on her mind.
He did not voice that question. Their marriage had settled into a routine that suited him well. He and Amelia rarely spoke and when they did, it was only to talk about things that they needed to speak of. The last time they had had much of a discussion was almost two weeks ago when Amelia had voiced her worries over Mercy’s inability to conceive.
“It takes time sometimes,” he had explained to Amelia. “It’s different for all women.”
She had looked so sad then, “I hope she conceives soon. You say that it takes years for some women to get a child?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“I pray that it shall not be that way for me,” she had said and then the meaning of her words had sunk in and she had blushed crimson.
There was no chance of them conceiving a child, Phillip thought to himself. As if by mutual agreement, they each slept on the edges of the bed, and never once made contact in all those weeks of marriage.
Deep down inside Philip knew the reasons they had not consummated their marriage were numerous. One reason, he shamefully hesitated to acknowledge even to himself. He could not get the image of Amelia, as God had created her, standing in the middle of their bedroom. Never in his life had he gazed on a woman’s naked person, now somehow he could not shake off the image of his wife’s. These feelings were both unusual and unwelcome. He was hoping they would disappear soon, like an unwanted illness.
They travelled in silence out of town and through stretches of empty land. He found these moments soothing and though he and Amelia did not speak much, he found her presence equally soothing.
“When did you decide that ministering was your calling?” Amelia asked from out of nowhere.
The sky was blue and there was a slight breeze blowing from the hilltops. Phillip contemplated her question.
“There was not a single moment when I decided to be a servant of God. I just always knew. At the poor house where I grew up, I worked in the small chapel ever since I was a small boy. I never knew anything else other than the Lord.”
He looked sideways at Amelia.
“What about yourself, when did you become a Christian?”
She laughed lightly, the sound oddly pleasing against the hiss of the wind.
“Must have been less than five years ago. I never grew up in a Christian family. I embraced the faith when Mercy came to live with her Aunt and Uncle. We became friends immediately and she taught me about Jesus Christ and how he died for our sins. I started going to church then and then slowly by slowly mother and father joined me and our faith grew strong.”
Her eyes were focused out faraway and he knew her mind was just as far. She was back home with her family.
“Do you miss them very much?” Phillip asked, realizing that he had never quite thought of Amelia had her own person with people whom she loved.
She turned her eyes on him and the love and devotion he saw there shook him.
“I do, but I wanted this too and I’m happy to be here with you.”
Her simple words moved him and he quickly shifted to other topics of conversation. He told her about growing up in a poor house.
“It must have been very lonely for you,” Amelia commented.
“Not really. I knew no other life and besides, the women who took care of us were kind to us. Some children have it worse.”
They were silent for the rest of the journey but it was a comfortable silence. They reached Newtown in the afternoon and checked into an inn. At the reception desk, a woman sat behind a table.
“Welcome Pastor Phillip. I think the Lord must have brought you to us.”
“Thank you Mrs. Spencer. And why is that might I inquire?” Phillip answered with a smile.
“There’s a fever in the town and we need prayers. It’s spreading faster than a fire and we all need our divine intervention,” Mrs. Spencer replied, speaking fast and urgently.
“I am sure it shall pass. Fevers are common at this time of year,” Phillip responded unalarmed.
“This one is bad,” Mrs. Spencer said ominously. “Mark my words.”
He removed some bills from his wallet and handed them to her.
“Oh no, you know the rules. We don’t charge you for your board. You’re our favorite guest.”
Phillip smiled with gratitude and told her the same. In their room, Amelia busied herself unpacking, while Phillip sat at the desk and organized his sermons. After that, they each had a wash in the tub and dressed for their evening meal.
“Shall we go down to the restaurant?” Phillip asked and held out his arm for Amelia.
She took it amidst giggles and they proceeded down the stairs together. Amelia had never been in a restaurant and she was charmed by the well-arranged tables and chairs.
“Isn’t it beautiful,” Amelia exclaimed.
Her face was filled with wonder and Phillip looked about him and realized that it was indeed a well done room. He had never noticed it before. He ordered a steak and vegetables for both of them. It was nice to be with someone who appreciated and enjoyed new places. He had lost his own excitement years ago and now one restaurant was similar to the next one.
“Excuse me Pastor Phillip, forgive me for interrupting your supper,” a young boy said, running up to them. “We heard that you’re in town and mother sent me to call you. Father had got the fever and we fear he may lose the fight. Please do come and administer the last rites,” the boy said, his voice cracking.
“Right away lad. Come Amelia, we shall eat later.”
They hurried after the boy out of the restaurant and then Phillip led the trio to the wagon. It would be faster that way. The home was not very far and soon they took the dusty road that led to the house. At the door, they met with the doctor donning his hat and preparing to leave.
“How is he Doctor?” Phillip asked.
The doctor shook his head and placed his hand on Philip’s shoulder before he left. In the living room, a woman whom he assumed to be the boy’s mother sat sobbing. Amelia went to her, while he went to the room where the sick man lay. The house smelt of hovering death and Phillip’s heart fell. Administering last rites to the dying was the part of his job that he disliked the most.
EIGHT
Sometimes Love Burns Slow
“You did well with that woman,” Phillip said as they returned to the inn.
“Thank you, so did you,” Amelia replied her voice muted.
He understood her feelings completely. It was emotionally exhausting to be around a dying person offering them hope where there was none. At the inn, they were too tired to eat and both went straight to their room. Phillip did not fall asleep immediately. He listened to Amelia’s breathing and thought back to how well she had handled the situation.
While he was in the room with the sick man, Amelia had soothed the woman and her children and by the time he came out, she was composed. Most people would have balked at such a task, at a loss over what to tell a woman about to lose her husband.
The following day, news reached them that an old woman had succumbed to the fever.
With the heat in the state, Phillip knew that she had to be buried on the same day. Again, he and Amelia left for the family home and he led the small group of people in giving the woman a proper burial. Amelia stood with the family, offering consolation where she could. After laying her to rest, he and Amelia joined the family in a cup of tea.
Even before he was halfway drinking his tea, a man came up to him.
“Pastor Phillip, you are needed at the Jones’ they have lost their youngest, a lass of two years.”
“I’ll be right there,” Phillip said and beckoned to Amelia. ‘We must go, another burial to perform.”
At the home, the little girl’s body lay pitifully in a box. Her hair was done up lovingly in ribbons and she wore a smart dress, probably her Sunday dress. He looked at Amelia, standing beside him and felt her pain. In his job, Phillip had seen a lot but he knew two funerals in a single day were too much for Amelia.
He reached for her hand and squeezed it. As with funerals of children, it was a heartbreaking ceremony, especially when the mother who cried like her heart was torn out of her chest, planted a flower over the small mound of the grave.
“How can God allow such things to happen?” Amelia asked on their way back to the inn.
It was dark and he could not see her expression but her voice was ravaged by pain and exhaustion. He was silent, knowing that there was more and it was far better for her to speak out her thoughts.
“She had not lived at all. Two years old. Why did God have to take her at such a tender age?”
“Is there a right time to die Amelia? When old people die, we mourn them and ask why they could not have lived longer. Remember the verse from the book of Ecclesiastes. To everything, there is a season for every activity under the heavens:
A time to be born and a time to die
A time to plant and a time to uproot
A time to kill and a time to heal
A time to tear down and a time to build
A time to weep and a time to laugh
A time to mourn and a time to dance
A time to time to search and a time to give up
A time to keep and a time to throw away
A time to tear and a time to mend
A time to be silent and a time to speak
A time to love and a time to hate,
A time for war and a time for peace.
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