Fragile Blessings

by Susan M. Baganz

  “The O’Neill farm west of town suffered a fire last night. Please pray for the children who were orphaned as a result, especially for the infant born only a week past.”

  Grant’s hand rose in the air without thought. “We’ll take in the children.”

  Lily turned to him with her mouth agape, which she quickly covered with a delicate gloved hand. She rose from her seat and fled the small meeting room into the crisp fall morning.

  Grant’s face grew warm. He nodded his head and stood to follow his wife as the pastor announced the final hymn.

  He found her pacing next to the carriage. Her mouth opened and closed several times before her sharp toned words burst forth. “What were you thinking? We cannot take those children!”

  “Why not? We have a roof over our heads. They need a home. The baby needs a mother’s milk, which you can supply. Just because we lost our son doesn’t mean that this child has to die too.”

  “But…but…they are Catholic.” She shivered.

  “Like your family. God still loves them. Why should that be a deterrent to them being part of our family?”

  “You never even asked me.”

  “Lily, I’m sorry. I never even asked myself. It was as if the Holy Spirit lifted my arm up. It was impulsive, but it’s the right thing to do.”

  “Oh, Grant.” She launched herself at him, at first pummeling his chest with her small fists before collapsing against him with sobs wracking her body. He held her and waited. Cold seeped into his shirt, and he regretted leaving his hat inside. He withdrew a handkerchief and offered it to Lily as her crying wound down. She stood back, hiccupped, and nodded.

  Sniff. “You are head of our household.” She straightened up and met his gaze. “We will take the kids. I will care for the infant. But you cannot make me love them.”

  Grant nodded. “I will tell pastor, and we can head over to the Warner’s home to collect the children. Would you like to come back inside to get warm?”

  Lily nodded and allowed him to escort her back into the church as the last hymn rang out amongst the small congregation.

  * * *

  Lily was quickly surrounded by other matrons in the congregation, offering commiseration over her loss and accolades for the willingness to take in another family’s children. Lily smiled weakly and nodded as the women gave her no chance to respond anyway. Mrs. Hughes pulled her away from the group to stand near the wood stove.

  “Lily, dear. I realize this is hard for you. Maybe this is God’s bigger plan for your family. When I heard this morning of the death of their parents in the fire, my first thought was of you. You are the only woman in the area right now who could serve as a wet nurse.”

  Lily shrugged and shook her head. “I told Grant I would allow this, but my heart rebels,” she whispered.

  “Dear girl. You are young, and your loss has been great. But your son is in the hands of a loving God. We don’t know about the O’Neill’s souls. Those children don’t know about Jesus. The family didn’t attend church. Perhaps God preserved them for something better. Maybe this, dear sister, is your mission field.”

  Lily swallowed hard. “I will obey my husband, Mrs. Hughes, but I don’t like it.”

  “Nobody said you did. I will pray for you. I think you might be surprised at what God will do through the blessing of these three orphans.”

  Lily turned away to find Grant. God may be up to all kinds of things, but she really wasn’t interested in His plans. He killed their son. He left three children orphans. What kind of God did these things? How could Grant believe so unflinchingly?

  CHAPTER THREE

  Lily’s heart froze when presented with the infant. Wrapped in blue flannel cloth, he screamed at her and waved his fists because he was hungry. Mrs. Hughes accompanied them to meet the children and help Lily navigate nursing the infant.

  Sitting in the bedroom, shut off from the chaos in the main quarters, Lily gasped in painful surprise as the newborn clamped down. Mrs. Hughes coached her. “It will get better, but it’s going to take time. He’s a pro already, and you’ve never had the experience. Trust me. This will be good for you both.”

  The ride home with the three young children in the back of the wagon seemed interminably long. Lily couldn’t bear to hold the baby and handed it off to the oldest, a six-year-old, grey-eyed, red-haired girl named Colleen. The middle child, Simon, had dark curly brown hair and blue eyes. He was four. Both children were timid in the face of all the changes they had undergone in the past twelve hours.

  * * *

  Grant ushered the newly formed family into the house and quickly set up pallets for Colleen and Simon, and a small nest near their bed until he could complete the crib he’d begun construction on a month ago. Assured by Lily that she was okay, he invited Simon out to the barn to help him.

  “Sir, I want my Ma and Pa,” the little boy said softly as they walked out, side by side.

  “I know, son. I’m sorry. Do you think you could learn to let me be like a “pa” to you for now?”

  The little boy stuck his thumb in his mouth and didn’t answer, but allowed his other hand to reach up and hold Grant’s.

  Grant’s heart melted. Together, they entered the barn, and handing Simon a piece of sandpaper, they silently went to work on finishing the crib for the infant.

  * * *

  “Ma’am?” asked Colleen.

  “Yes?”

  “Are you my new mama?”

  Lily sighed. “No one could replace your mother, Colleen.”

  “But she’s gone, isn’t she?

  “Yes, I’m afraid she is.”

  “And Da is gone too?”

  “Yes,” Lily whispered, almost afraid to say the words. How much did the little girl understand about the finality of death? How much did Lily?

  “Good.”

  Lily turned away from the stew warming on the stove and knelt down in front of the little girl. “Why would you say that?”

  “He was mean to Ma.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, but I’m sure you didn’t wish for him to die.”

  “I did wish it. I prayed. I asked God to take away my Da and help my Ma not to cry no more.” Tears ran down her plump cheeks. “God answered my prayers. But I didn’t want Ma dead. Only Pa. Why did God kill my Ma?”

  Lily leaned down and reached out a hand to touch the shoulder of the little girl. Colleen launched herself into Lily’s arms and clasped her tightly around the neck. Soon, her dress was soaked with the tears. Lily wrapped her arms around the girl, held her close, and allowed her own tears to fall—for Colleen, for herself, and for all they had both lost.

  * * *

  Lily peered out the window as Grant and Simon ventured from the barn into the cold and back to the house. Simon walked tall with his hands in his coat pocket and a smile on his little face. An imitation of the man walking by his side.

  Colleen had helped punch dough for bread for dinner, and now, the scent of fresh baked bread filled the house. Colleen smiled shyly at Lily and asked if she could bring her baby brother in for his feeding as he started to whimper.

  “Thank you, Colleen. Do you think you can handle him?”

  “Ma would let me hold him. She only ever touched him to feed him. I even changed his cloths.”

  The poor baby. What mother wouldn’t want to touch her child? Lily couldn’t grasp such neglect. “I appreciate the big help you are, Colleen. You may fetch him for me. Did your mother teach you how to read?”

  “What’s reading?” The little girl handed over the infant gently.

  “That is when you look at letters on a page and make them into words, sentences, and stories.”

  “Stories?”

  “Your Ma told you stories, didn’t she?”

  “She said Da told stories that were lies. Ma didn’t like stories.”

  “Did she ever read the Bible to you?”

  “What is the Bible?” The little furrows between her eyes proved the truth of these inn
ocent questions.

  “It’s a book written by God to help us understand who He is, how He worked through history, and how He wants us to live.”

  The little girl shook her head in confusion. “I don’t know about God.”

  “Would you like to learn?” Lily asked.

  Colleen shrugged.

  “Mr. Anderson will read from the Bible tonight after dinner.”

  Colleen dropped her head, and Lily wondered at all that weighed the poor mite down. Was it any wonder when the children had lost their home and parents and were thrust into depending on new people they didn’t even know? And I resented Grant for wanting to take them in. The reality is, he was more in touch with the Holy Spirit than I was, seeking refuge in my grief and anger towards God and Grant over losing our son. Forgive me, Lord.

  She peered down at the infant suckling and batting his hand on her breast. How could any mother not want this child? The very thought was ladled with guilt, as if loving this child was a betrayal of the one they buried only days ago.

  And why did this little boy have red hair? It made no sense that God would take away their son but leave this child unwanted, unloved, and then an orphan. This child was larger than Grant Junior, having been born full-term. This baby was plump, and Grant had been thin. Grant had small cheeks, and this little one boasted a more pronounced chin. A little hand wrapped around her finger, holding tight. How long would they be caring for these kids? God, what are you up to?

  * * *

  Upon entering the house, Grant helped Simon take his coat off. He glanced over at Lily as she rocked with the nursing babe while Colleen played with a makeshift doll at her feet. Lily glanced up and their eyes locked. Did her face convey the weight of sadness and send the intended silent reproach for forcing this immediate family upon her?

  He frowned, turned away, and picked up Simon, hugged him close and began tickling him. The boy giggled and kicked. Grant grinned and set him down with one more quick hug.

  Simon ran to where Colleen sat and told her about his afternoon adventures.

  Grant’s carefree play filled Lily with jealousy. How dare he enjoy someone else’s kid with theirs fresh in the ground? She would not reproach him. He was the head of their household. He opened their home and his heart as an act of charity to these orphaned children. Surely, she could provide a home for them. But that didn’t mean she had to love them.

  * * *

  Grant washed up as the children played at Lily’s feet. He experienced a bittersweet joy. He longed for their children to be playing there, not someone else’s. He had been horrified at the things Simon shared with his limited words about the home he had known. Living with Lily and himself had to be better for them. Wouldn’t it?

  Lily finished feeding the infant and rose from her chair. She walked over to him by the stove and handed over the baby.

  “What am I supposed to do with him?” Sudden terror gripped him. What if he dropped the infant?

  “Hold him. Burp him. Talk to him. I don’t care. Just keep him content while I put supper on the table. Colleen, can you come and help me?”

  Grant lifted the infant to his shoulder and rubbed the child’s back. A loud belch was his reward.

  Colleen finished setting the table and stood off to the side of the room, waiting silently as Lily placed the food on the table with her usual quick efficiency.

  The infant’s eyelids closed as he sucked his fist. So tiny.

  Simon came to stand next to his sister, hopping from foot to foot. “I’m hungry,” he whispered.

  Grant nodded to the washbasin. “You’ll get food soon enough. Go wash your hands and use the soap. When you return, we’ll sit down to the meal Mrs. Anderson has prepared, after we pray our blessing.”

  Simon washed and once again stood next to his sister. Grant remembered being that age and always hungry. “What’s a blessing, Mr. Anderson?”

  Grant motioned them to take a seat as he pulled out the chair for Lily and then sat himself. He settled the sleeping infant in the crook of one arm, freeing up the other to eat.

  “We thank God for His provision for our needs,” Lily offered.

  The children glanced at each other in confusion. Grant bowed his head and began to pray. Lily folded her hands and bowed her head as well. Out of the corner of his eyes, Grant spied the children as their wide-eyes took in the adults at the table. They bowed their heads and clasped their hands together.

  “Lord, we thank you for this day, for the food you’ve provided, and the lovely hands that prepared it. We also thank you for the gift of these children. Amen.”

  The kids slowly put their hands down, imitating the adults. Lily spooned soup into their bowls and handed them each a hearty slice of buttered bread.

  “We get to eat all of this?” Simon asked with a mouthful of bread.

  “We don’t talk with our mouths full. That is not good manners. As to your question, if you can eat it all, you are encouraged to do so. God has never let us go hungry. He has been good to us.”

  “God must not like our family,” Colleen said simply. She spooned soup slowly into her mouth and closed her eyes as if savoring it.

  Lily glanced at Grant who took the hint. “I’m sure God loved your family, Colleen. Sometimes, He allows us to suffer from our poor choices. Unfortunately, that means others sometime suffer as well. But that is never God’s choice for any of us, but a consequence of sin.”

  Colleen’s head tilted to one side. “Why would God make us suffer because our Da was mean?”

  “Oh,” Lily started, “I don’t think God caused it, but He did allow it. I don’t pretend to understand why.”

  The children glanced at each other and proceeded to finish their food. He suspected there were many other questions and prayed silently that God would give him the right answers. More importantly, he asked God to let them be the right answer in how they showed love to the orphans. Where else could they go anyway?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Lily shook her head as her husband devoured another bowl of stew while holding the baby in the crook of his arm. He seemed at ease holding this child. How could he care for this infant when theirs was gone? Frustration welled up within her.

  She yawned. Last night, she had tossed and turned after their argument, leaving her exhausted. She was aware he never joined her in bed, and once, she rose to check on him and found him on his knees with his lips silently moving. Grant had dark circles under his eyes. Not easy to spot in the candlelit room and given his ruddy complexion from time spent outdoors. He’d told her when they were courting that he didn’t ever want to go to bed angry with her. He had kept his vow. He hadn’t gone to bed at all. But was he still angry?

  They never resolved their argument, but with three children added to the mix, would that ever happen? She wasn’t sure she was ready to forgive him. She couldn’t understand how he could so quickly put the loss of their son behind them.

  The thought crossed her mind. Did Grant express grief differently? God, could that be true? Are You trying to tell me something?

  “Are you well, Lily?” Grant gazed at her with concern in his eyes. Eyes that had wooed her as his young bride.

  “What?” She had been so lost in thought she hadn’t taken a bite to eat. “Oh, I’m fine.” She picked up her spoon and began to eat even though she lacked an appetite.

  “I think we need to take the children to the mercantile in town and purchase clothing for them to wear.”

  “Can we afford that?” Lily asked.

  “Not really, but it is necessary. God will provide. They lost everything in the fire and only possess the clothes they came with. We need to get something for them.”

  “I made clothing for our son.” Lily tried to swallow her jealousy that her own son would not benefit from the fruit of her labors in sewing those clothes.

  Grant nodded as he looked down at the sleeping babe. “That will help. I can take Simon and Colleen in the morning. Would you like to join us?” />
  “I think it would be better for the baby to stay indoors.”

  Grant frowned. “I bow to your wisdom in that.” He finished the last piece of his warm, buttered bread. “We need to think of a name for this lad.”

  “Why wouldn’t they name him?” Lily wondered aloud.

  “Da said the baby wasn’t his so he weren’t going to give it a name,” Simon said cheerfully, not fully grasping what he revealed.

  Colleen nodded her head. “Ma said she didn’t think he would live anyway, he was so scrawny, so why bother?”

  “Every child deserves a name,” Lily retorted.

  Collen focused on her hands. “Yes, ma’am, if you say so.”

  “I’m sorry if I sounded angry, children. Please forgive me.”

  Simon and Colleen’s jaws dropped. They glanced at each other.

  “Is there something wrong?” Grant asked.

  “Adults don’t say sorry,” Colleen blurted out and covered her mouth. Her eyes were wide with fear.

  “In our home, they do. We may be adults, but we still make mistakes and apologize for them. With God’s help, we try to do better. That’s what followers of Jesus do.”

  “Oh, we don’t follow Jesus. We’re Catholic,” Colleen piped up cheerfully

  Grant sighed. “Do you understand what it means to be Catholic?”

  Collen shook her head. Simon imitated his sister.

  “Did you go to church?” Grant asked.

  The two little ones shook their heads again.

  “Did your parents ever talk to you about God?”

  “They spoke His name, but He sounded like an angry person we didn’t want to meet,” Colleen offered.

  “Oh, children.” Lily eyed them with tenderness. “God is wonderful. He punishes sin, true, but He also loved us so much that He sacrificed His only son for us so we could have life in Him. When we accept that gift, God lets us go be with Him when we die. And He gifts us with the power to live like His son, Jesus, while we are here.”

  Brows scrunched and lips pursed, Colleen finally responded. “He killed His son? For me?”