She smiled slightly. “I’ve lost track.”
“You remind me of a great-uncle of mine. He spent his whole life pouring over the Talmud. Didn’t do him much good. I heard from those who were at his bedside at the end that he was as terrified of the fires of Gehenna as any reprobate.”
She touched the book in her lap. “Blessed assurance doesn’t come from reading mere words on paper. It comes from having the spirit of God on the inside. He’s the one who breathes life into these Scriptures.”
“So, why didn’t my uncle have the spirit on the inside?”
Instead of answering, she took her Bible and opened it to the Book of John. She began reading from the first verse, “‘In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God….’”
She kept reading through to the tenth verse. “‘He was in the world, and the world was made by him, and the world knew him not.’” As she read the eleventh verse, she glanced toward Simon. “‘He came unto his own, and his own received him not.’”
“You are saying the Messiah came to His people, and we didn’t realize it.”
“I’m not saying it. This book is.”
“A matter of opinion, some would have it.”
“It is a matter of studying the Scriptures with ‘the eyes of your understanding enlightened,’ as the apostle Paul describes.” When he didn’t say anything, she hastened on. “Believe me, I never would have read about Christ as the Jewish Messiah in the Scriptures if God’s spirit had not revealed it to me through the Old Testament prophecies. Before that time, I thought the Bible was just for Christians. I believed Christ came to save the Gentiles. I believed the Jews were guilty of murdering our Savior, not that He had anything to do with their salvation.”
She placed her hands flat on the open pages in front of her and leaned forward. “When Tertius first asked me to come here, I was horrified. My first reaction was to refuse outright. I simply could not conceive of coming into the household of a Jew.
“You were perfectly right when you accused me of picturing you as some greedy, ambitious moneylender.” Althea waited to see his reaction before continuing her tale. “My brother had to practically beg me to come to that interview with you. The only thing Tertius and I could agree upon was that I would seek the Lord’s counsel.” She permitted herself a slight smile. “Believe me, though I set myself to seek the Lord’s will in prayer, my mind was pretty well made up in one way, and it would take a divine act to get me to change my views of the Scriptures.”
“I assume you received such an act, since you are here.”
She nodded. “It didn’t take the Lord long to point out my error.” She smiled. “Perhaps the urgency of your situation moved Him to show me in a matter of days.” She looked down at her hands, knowing she was coming to the critical part. “I had been praying for only a few days, when…I had a dream.” She was afraid of looking at him, afraid she would only read disbelief or mockery. She sneaked a glance, but saw he was listening to her intently. “Jesus appeared to me in the dream. He told me to come here. He also told me to go back to the Scriptures. He even gave me one particular verse.” She riffled the thin pages, afraid of losing Simon’s attention if she stopped talking for even a second.
She arrived at the second chapter of the Book of Ephesians. Her fingers ran down the page until they reached the fourteenth verse. She kept her forefinger on the Scripture and looked up. Simon’s attention was still upon her. “I woke up with Ephesians 2:14 clearly in my mind.”
Although she could have quoted it to him by heart by then, she preferred reading it to him. “‘For He is our peace, who hath made both one, and hath broken down the middle wall of partition between us.’” She emphasized the parts she wanted him to understand. She risked a glance at his face to see if he had. “Don’t you see he is talking about both Jew and Gentile? I went back and read and reread the entire chapter. It’s Paul, a Jew, a Pharisee of Pharisees, writing to the new converts—Gentiles—at Ephesus. He’s explaining how Jesus has come to reconcile the two of us. Listen.” She ran her finger farther down: “‘…to make in himself of twain one new man…that he might reconcile both unto God in one body by the cross….’
“One new man! Jew and Gentile! In one instant, the Spirit of God opened my eyes to show me that your Messiah was also my Messiah. The promise of salvation, which had been given to the Jews through the Scriptures for centuries, had now been made available to the Gentiles.
“You can’t understand how that revelation changed everything. It came to me only days before I arrived here, but I spent that time poring over the Old Testament, your book, looking up every Scripture I could find about salvation, about the Messiah, every prophecy, and I discovered for the first time that Jesus was your Messiah.” She looked at him marveling. “I never knew that. We Gentiles only received Jesus because you had rejected Him. But many of your people didn’t reject Him. The Christian Church was full of Jews at the beginning—it was made up of Jews.” She laughed. “As you guessed, I had read the Bible, oh, perhaps dozens of times, and I had never seen that. It took the Spirit that God has planted on the inside of me to reveal it to me.”
She fell silent, having nothing more to say. She could reason and argue, read more Scriptures, but if Simon could not understand what she had just told him, more would not convince him. The minutes spread out, and with it, Althea’s hope began to diminish, hang onto it though she would; it slowly pulverized as completely as the spent coals on the grate, falling to form a pile of white ash.
Finally Simon brought his fingertips together in a pyramid. “If Jesus gave you this grand revelation, why did He take so long about it?”
She laughed again, almost in relief. “Don’t you see? Sometimes God can’t show us things until we’re willing to be shown.”
“How profound, Miss Breton. Unfortunately, to my ears it sounds too much as if you would have a person give up all modern learning and philosophy and turn back to something that was written centuries ago and caused more disagreement and wars than all other philosophies put together.”
She slumped in defeat. He had listened to her so intently, she had believed for a moment that he was beginning to understand. But the veil still had not been lifted from his eyes.
“I know one thing, Mr. Aguilar, I will not be terrified on my deathbed as your uncle was. I will not question whether my life was lived in vain. And I will know where I am going.”
One afternoon in late April before leaving for the House, Simon went in search of Althea. He hadn’t seen but glimpses of her in days. Although Rebecca seemed fine, he still wanted to talk face-to-face with her nurse. He’d almost say Miss Breton was avoiding him. He missed their brief early morning chats at breakfast.
He finally located her by the muffled sound of music coming from the yellow salon. He opened the door silently and stood listening. He had never witnessed her playing. Rebecca was upstairs visiting with her grandmother.
Althea struck the last few notes of a hymn. As the last note died away, she must have sensed his presence, for she whirled around on the pianoforte bench.
“How long have you been there?”
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he reassured her. She seemed more flustered than the discovery of his presence warranted.
“I thought you had already left for the day,” she said in a more collected tone.
“I was on my way out, but remembered I needed to do something, so here I am. You play well,” he added.
Her hand went to her throat. “Th-thank you.”
He peered more closely at her. “I haven’t seen much of you lately. Is everything well with you?”
She looked down at her lap, clasping her hands in it. “Yes, of course.”
He wasn’t satisfied. He tried another tack. “Rebecca is doing well, is she not?”
Althea nodded vigorously, still not looking at him directly. “Oh, yes.”
“Perhaps we shall even see the day she no longer needs a
nurse,” he teased.
If he thought to disconcert her, he was disappointed. She looked at him, a glow in her eyes.
“Oh, I pray for that day! I know we shall see the time when she can join all her cousins in their boisterous games.”
He considered the notion. “Well, I appreciate your prayers, for whatever they’re worth. I know if there is a God, He would be a cruel God indeed if He didn’t listen to your prayers, Miss Breton.”
She gazed at him as if longing to tell him something. No doubt more about that Savior of hers. Simon switched topics before she had a chance.
“Speaking of Rebecca’s cousins, I stopped by to remind you that Tirzah’s wedding is next week. It will be held at the bridegroom’s house, as is customary, but we will start out from my parents’ house. I know the celebrations will go on until late into the evening, and I’ve got permission for you and Rebecca to stay the night at the bridegroom’s. This way, you can put Rebecca to bed early, so she won’t get overtired by all the excitement.”
Althea nodded. “She talks of little else these days. The bridegroom’s parents won’t mind having us, will they?”
“No, not at all, it’s all arranged.” He fingered a button on his coat. “I will accompany you, of course, in the coach, but I shall return here in the evening, then come and collect both of you in the morning after breakfast. Is that satisfactory to you?”
“Yes, of course. Whatever is best for you.”
“Good, it’s settled, then.” He turned to go. At the door he paused, turning back to her. He said without thinking, though he realized as he spoke that he must have been considering the notion for days, “Wear the green, will you?”
She looked puzzled. “The green?”
“You know—that dress you wore to the dinner party.” He felt a warmth steal over his face, as he questioned why he cared about her apparel.
Her hand went back to her throat. “Oh—”
“You’ll wear it, then?” Better she had no chance to think too much about it, or wonder why he was making such a request.
Giving her no opportunity to refuse, he nodded. “Good. I must be off. Until this evening.”
He strode down the hallway, trying to focus on the coming debate in the House, yet feeling a sense of anticipation at seeing Miss Breton once again in an evening gown at a social event.
The day of the wedding dawned bright and warm. Althea didn’t have time to worry overmuch about which dress she wore, since Rebecca awoke early and was clamoring for her attention in helping her dress. Without bothering to analyze the right or wrong of her motives, Althea quickly washed and donned her sister-in-law’s green gauze along with the pearls her father had given her.
“You look beautiful, Althea,” exclaimed Rebecca as soon as she saw her.
Althea remembered the girl had not seen her the night of the dinner party, and she hadn’t worn the gown since then. “Let’s get you dressed.” She went into her wardrobe and took out the dress Simon had ordered especially for this day. It was a beautiful pink frock with lots of lace and frills. Althea helped Rebecca don petticoats and dress before tying her sash. “Let’s get your shoes on and let your papa know we’re ready.”
They drove past Mayfair and Soho toward Bloomsbury. The trees were fully green now, and lilacs were in blossom everywhere. Once at Simon’s parents, there was an air of frenzy as the bride was readied for her short journey to the groom’s residence. Althea clasped Rebecca’s hand as they watched the bride come down the steps of her house accompanied by violinists and a drummer. All the company sang a song as she was helped into an open carriage. The musicians followed in a coach, with the rest of the party bringing up the rear. The groom’s parents lived a few streets down. There the bride was met at the entrance by servants who served her and all those of her party with a cup of sorbet and rose water.
They were ushered into the spacious drawing room where the furniture had been cleared out with the exception of chairs arranged along the walls. In the center of the room stood a little platform with a canopy decorated with flowers.
Althea looked on in wonder during the ceremony, not understanding a word, since it was conducted in both Hebrew and Ladino. Bride and bridegroom stood under the canopy as they were joined in matrimony by the rabbi. Solomon, the young bridegroom, wore a white robe. She noticed the rabbi wore one as well, with the prayer shawl draped over his shoulders. All the men wore their skullcaps, and many prayer shawls were visible beneath their dark jackets. Toward the end, a glass was broken by the bridegroom’s foot.
Immediately following the ceremony, creamy cakes were served to everyone. Between mouthfuls, Rebecca explained to her that seven blessings had been recited over the couple.
After the cake, the guests were invited to the dining room to partake of the wedding feast. Althea sat wedged between Rebecca and another guest as plate after plate of food was served. Rebecca told her how the bridal couple had fasted until the ceremony.
Much of the food had a foreign quality to it, and much of the language was incomprehensible to Althea, but she didn’t really mind. Rebecca kept her amused, and she was touched that on this occasion Rebecca seemed content to stick close to her.
Althea could barely see Simon, who was at the far end of the table, grouped with his male relatives. She noticed toast after toast being made to the newlyweds. As the afternoon waned, many of the guests drifted back to the drawing room where an orchestra was tuning up.
By this time Rebecca began to tire of sitting among the adults. “Will you mind if I leave you for a while, Miss Althea?”
Althea squeezed her hand. “Of course not. I’m enjoying watching everyone. Go on, have fun with your cousins.”
Althea remained in the dining room a bit longer, sipping the deliciously dark coffee set before her. When the silent waiter kept refilling her cup, she finally had to cover it with her hand. She suspected the sweet, rich drink would prove potent in large quantities. As the dining room emptied, she rose with a company of women and followed them out. They made their way back to the drawing room.
A large group of guests were singing around the bridal pair. Many of the elderly guests sat at the periphery of the room on the gilded, straight-backed chairs set out. Althea found a seat among them. Soon the dancing began. Althea watched the first sets of dancers fall into formation. Even the music was different, faster and livelier than most of the minuets and country dances she had learned as a girl. She tapped her slipper to the tempo, enjoying the gusto of the men and women as they formed a ring around the dance floor.
“I’m so glad you could come to my wedding.” Tirzah stood by her chair.
Althea smiled up at the dark-haired girl in greeting. “Thank you for having me. It was a beautiful ceremony.”
Simon’s sister looked beautiful in her white silk dress and lacy veil, dark curls framing her delicate features. She took the empty chair at Althea’s side.
“May I?”
Althea made a gesture of welcome. “Please do.”
She stretched out her legs, her satin slippers peeking out from her hem. “Ah, it feels good to sit a moment. Why is it they make the bride and groom stand so much at a wedding?” She laughed. After a moment, her eyes caught sight of Rebecca across the room. “It’s so good to see my niece looking so well.”
“Yes, indeed.”
“Nu, how are you getting on with my brother?”
Althea averted her eyes immediately, wondering at the directness of the question. “Very well, thank you. Mr. Aguilar is a very fair employer.”
“Employer? Oh, yes, of course. But really, Miss Breton, I hope he is not treating you as a mere employee. You’ve been a salvation to Rebecca. I can see she adores you. Believe me, she didn’t warm to the other nurses. Not that they were there long enough. Simon is very protective of Rebecca. He didn’t give any of them a second chance.” She shuddered. “Not that I blame him. You should have seen some of them. They would have given me nightmares had I been Rebecca’s age.
” She laughed. “But you’re different. You’ve become special to Rebecca. I hope Simon has made you feel part of the family. I hope we have, too, here today.”
Althea was touched by the young woman’s attention. “Thank you, Miss Aguilar. That’s most kind of you.”
“Mrs. Cardoso, now,” she corrected with a smile.
“Of course, I do beg your pardon, Mrs. Cardoso.”
“Since I consider you part of the family, please call me Tirzah.”
Althea impulsively reached out her hand to the other girl. “Of course, Tirzah. And please call me Althea.”
“Althea. What a pretty name.” After a moment, Tirzah commented, “Simon says you are the sister of one of his closest friends.”
“Yes, they knew each other at Eton.”
“I’m glad they were friends. I don’t think Simon had too many friends there. If you’ll pardon my saying so, it’s not easy being a Jew—or convert—” she added with a dry laugh “—in your world, Althea.”
“Nor a Methodist.”
Tirzah gave her a startled look, then grinned. “Yes, Simon has mentioned that you are of a different sect—”
She tipped her head to one side, reminding Althea of Simon.
“You are not what I expected.”
“What were you expecting?”
“I couldn’t fathom how a lady of quality could be accepting a post of nurse, until Simon explained that you were of a different religious persuasion. You feel that God has called you to serve in this capacity.”
Althea asked the Holy Spirit to give her the right words. Then she began speaking, formulating the words slowly. “When you realize what the Son of God did on this earth, offering Himself up as a living sacrifice for our sins, to make atonement for us for once and for all, then it becomes easy to turn around and obey Him when He calls us to do something for Him. It is no longer a matter of good works—that is, of trying to feel right before God, or trying to gain one’s entry into heaven by the weight of one’s good deeds.”
Winter Is Past Page 17