by Al Lacy
Mabel nodded and wiped tears from her cheeks. “That’s exactly what she called herself, Pastor. I haven’t seen Cassandra since she was a little girl. I wasn’t aware of this at all. Her parents are not Christians and have never taken her to church, but they are not atheists. I wasn’t aware that Cassandra felt this way until yesterday when I told her we needed to be at church today for Sunday school at ten o’clock. That’s when she came out with this atheist business.”
Peggy Shane said, “Mabel, when Pastor came home after seeing you at the general store on Tuesday, he told me you had informed him that your niece surprised you by knocking on your door that morning, saying she had come to live with you.”
Mabel nodded. “That’s right. I had no idea she was coming.”
Peggy’s brow furrowed. “Did something happen to Cassandra’s parents?”
Mabel shook her head, working hard to keep her self-control. “No. Like I said, I haven’t seen Cassandra since she was small, but I knew from my sister’s letters that she had become somewhat of a problem about the time she turned fourteen.
“Myrtle and I exchanged letters often, and by the time Cassandra was eighteen, Myrtle said the girl made life positively miserable for her and her husband. As she grew into adulthood, matters just escalated. Cassandra has absolutely no ambition and refuses to get a job.
“Myrtles husband is very ill and unable to work. Myrtle told Cassandra she was going to have to get a job and help out with the expenses. Cassandra threw a royal fit, saying she wasn’t going to do it, so Myrtle told her to leave. This fact came to me in a letter just over a week ago. I had no idea Cassandra would show up on my doorstep, and neither did Myrtle.”
Peggy shook her head. “Why do you suppose she came to you?”
“She must have found out from her parents that I received a substantial amount of money from a life insurance policy with a New York insurance company when my husband, Walter, was killed in that work accident four years ago.”
“Oh.”
“It looks to me like Cassandra figures her aunt will take care of her.” Once again, Mabel wiped tears. “More than anything, I want to bring Cassandra out of her atheism, and to see her open her heart to Jesus. I want her to be saved.”
Pastor Shane bit his lower lip and slowly shook his head. “Of course, Mabel. But what a shame that she calls herself an atheist. It is going to make your life miserable, having her in your home. Peggy and I will be praying for her, and for you. We’ll ask God to give you grace in it all, and we’ll be praying for her salvation. One day soon, I’ll happen by the house and try to talk to her. As you heard me preach not long ago, there is no such thing as an honest atheist. Romans 1:19 and 20 declares plainly that that which may be known of God by men is manifest in them, for God has shown it unto them. Man’s very conscience and his very nature tells him God exists. It also says that the invisible things of God from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things He has made. His creation even shows His eternal power and His Godhead. So people who call themselves atheists are without excuse before Him.
“When a person says there is no God, they are being dishonest. They know He exists because God has put in them to know it. What they really mean, is they wish there was no God. Both Psalm 14 and Psalm 53 call the person who says there is no God a fool We’ll be praying earnestly for Cassandra.”
“Yes, we will,” said Peggy.
“And Tharyn and I will too, Mrs. Downing,” said Dr. Dane, “and we’ll ask our Father in heaven to give you strength as well.”
Mabel ran her teary gaze over all four faces, thanked them, and walked away.
When Mabel Downing arrived home and stepped into the house, she saw no sign of her niece on the first floor. She climbed the stairs to the second floor and heard soft sounds coming from the bedroom that she had assigned to Cassandra. The door was open, and when Mabel reached it, she found Cassandra pawing through drawers in the dresser, removing their contents and placing them in a cardboard box.
Cassandra looked up at her aunt. “Back from church, huh?”
“Yes. What are you doing?”
“I’m making room for my own things that you are going to buy me from time to time. I’ll carry this box up to the attic and store these things up there.”
Mabel felt a touch of indignation at her niece’s bold assumption. “I’ll buy you the necessary things you need until you get a job of your own and you can buy them.”
Cassandra gave her a smug look. “What kind of job would I find in this small town, Aunt Mabel?”
“There are stores and shops that employ women as clerks, and there are cafés and restaurants that employ them as waitresses.”
Cassandra’s brow wrinkled and her cheeks tinted with ire. “Clerks? Waitresses?”
Mabel ignored the reaction. “Yes. You should put your application all over town right away, so if there are no openings at present, you’ll be given the first job that comes open.”
Cassandra masked the revulsion she felt at the thought of being a lowly clerk or waitress and decided to change the subject. She lifted a slender wooden instrument out of one of the drawers. It was some eighteen inches in length with a carved handle at the bottom of the pole, and a carved head at its top with four wooden prongs extending outward like curved fingers with narrow tips about half an inch apart.
“What is this, Aunt Mabel?”
“It’s an old Chinese backscratcher, Cassandra. The Chinese invented this implement to make it easy to scratch any itching spot. Your Uncle Walter bought it for me as a keepsake when we were in San Francisco’s Chinatown on our honeymoon many years ago.”
Cassandra looked at the wooden instrument. “It was nice of Uncle Walter to buy it for his bride. I’m sure it means a lot to you.”
“That it does.”
Cassandra placed the instrument back in the drawer, then looked at her aunt and smiled again. “I’ll keep it safe for you.”
“Well, dear, let’s go down to the kitchen and get Sunday dinner cooking.”
Cassandra reluctantly followed her aunt downstairs to the kitchen, but simply sat down at the table and watched Mabel prepare the dinner.
After a few minutes, Mabel stood at the stove and looked toward her niece. “Cassandra, why don’t you set the table while I’m cooking?”
The pretty brunette raised her eyebrows. “Set the table?”
“Yes. You know. Silverware. Plates. Coffee cups and saucers. You can do that, can’t you?”
Disguising the loathing she felt at being prodded to do her part, Cassandra rose to her feet laboriously. “Mm-hmm. I can do that.”
FIVE
As the days passed, Dr. Dane Logan cared for the patients who came to the office, and also those who were ill at home and needed his attention. House calls in town and in the rural areas were a part of the daily routine.
Between patients in the office who needed Tharyn’s care—sometimes alone, and at other times with the doctor—Nadine Wahl worked at training her in the keeping of the financial books and in knowing how to handle the job as receptionist. Nadine, of course, knew Tharyn’s reputation as a nurse at Denver’s Mile High Hospital, and that she needed no training in that area of responsibility.
Tharyn was delighted with her job, especially working alongside Dane with the patients. To her, it was a dream come true.
The Logans were up and about with the first light of dawn each day and worked many long hours. But Tharyn cheerfully performed each task, taking great pleasure in being a helper to her husband.
She had learned quickly that Dr. Dane Logan was the typical frontier doctor. He took care of people whether they could pay him or not. He often had to accept canned goods, garden vegetables, eggs, or other edibles from his patients who had little money.
It seemed that some days, Dane was making house calls at closing time, so Tharyn hurried home to prepare supper and make their home a haven for her tired man.
Sometimes after suppe
r, Tharyn went out back to attend to her small vegetable garden. Since it was planted quite late in the season, she knew her crop would be small, but she loved getting her hands in the soil. She pulled weeds joyfully.
On Thursday evening after supper, Dane had been called away to deliver a baby in a mountain cabin some five miles from Central City. Tharyn went to her garden, pulled a few weeds, and stood gazing at the rows where seeds had been planted. Soon she would see the tiny plants peeping up out of the soil.
Standing with her hands clasped behind her back, she turned in a slow circle, taking in the charming house and yard. A cool breeze had sprung up as the last rays of the sun sank behind the mountain peaks to the west and a burst of orange light seemed to glow over the whole world.
She drew a deep breath. “Thank You, my Father, for this magnificent view and for sight with which to behold it.”
By Friday, Nadine had Thaiyn thoroughly trained in the care of the financial books and in the duties as receptionist. When it came time to close the office, Dr. Dane was at the local saw mill, tending to a person who had been injured.
As the two women were heading for the door, Nadine smiled. “Now, Tharyn, I want to remind you that you can call on me for help whenever you and Dr. Logan have to be out of town, or even if you need me when you are here at the office.”
Tharyn hugged her. “Thank you, Nadine, And thank you for your patience in teaching me how to run the office.”
Nadine kissed her cheek. “You’re an easy student to teach, honey. It’s been my pleasure.”
On Saturday morning at the Downing house, Mabel was washing the inside of the parlor window while Cassandra was dusting the mantel, wishing she was living in some luxurious mansion as the wife of a wealthy man and had servants to do tedious tasks like she was being forced to do at the moment.
Cassandra’s aunt was humming some unfamiliar tune while washing the large window. Cassandra paused in her dusting, looked at Mabel, and told herself it must be one of those church songs that were so meaningless and boring.
Mabel happened to look her niece’s direction and saw that Cassandra was watching her. She stopped scrubbing and smiled. “Are you finished dusting the mantel already?”
Cassandra looked at the dust cloth in her hand and shook her head. “No. I was just wondering what song you’re humming.”
Mabel got a blank look on her face. “Well, I—uh—I don’t know. I was just humming and praising the Lord in my heart. Whatever it was, it was a song about Jesus, I’m sure. When I received Him as my Saviour, He washed my sins away with His precious blood and put sweet music in my heart.”
A dull look came into Cassandra’s eyes. “Oh. Sweet music, eh?”
“Mm-hmm. He will do the same thing for you, dear, if you will put your faith and trust in Him. Jesus loves you. He went to the cross and—”
“That’s all right, Aunt Mabel,” cut in Cassandra, and started dusting again. “You don’t need to preach to me. That gospel business just isn’t my cup of tea.”
Mabel started to say something else, but her attention was drawn outside as she heard hoofbeats and the sound of a buggy pulling into the driveway. She looked out the window and saw Pastor and Mrs. Shane in the buggy.
Cassandra had heard the sound too, but from where she stood she could see the horse but not the occupants of the buggy. “Who’s that, Aunt Mabel?”
Waving out the window with a smile on her face, Mabel said, “It’s Pastor and Mrs. Shane, honey. They’ve been wanting to meet you.”
Cassandra felt a cold antagonism well up inside her, but said nothing.
Mabel dropped the washcloth into the bucket of water, hurried out the door, and into the hall. As she headed toward the front door, she said in a whisper, “Please, dear Lord, let them get somewhere with Cassandra.”
On Sunday, the Logans fully enjoyed the teaching and preaching and the fellowship of the solid Christians in the church. That evening after the service, they had Pastor and Mrs. Shane to their home for a light snack.
While they were sitting together at the dining room table and enjoying the food Tharyn had prepared, Dr. Dane said, “I noticed that Mabel Downing was alone in both services today. She must be having a hard time with her niece, trying to get her to come to church.”
Pastor Shane and Peggy exchanged glances; then the pastor nodded and looked at the doctor. “Yes, she is. Quite a hard time. Peggy and I went to the Downing house yesterday morning and talked to Cassandra.”
“Oh, you did?”
“Yes, but that girl’s heart is hard when it comes to the things of the Lord. She was not impolite at that point, but she made it clear that she wants nothing to do with our church or the Bible, and she flat told us she is an atheist.”
“Oh, I see,” said Dr. Dane.
“This has to be very difficult for Mabel,” put in Tharyn.
Peggy nodded. “That it is, Tharyn. We’ve known that Mabel was having a hard time with Cassandra ever since she came to live with her. Mabel winced with pain when Cassandra told us that she believes when people die, they simply pass out of existence; there is no heaven and there is no hell.”
Pastor Shane sipped his coffee and placed the cup in its saucer. “We both gave her a lot of Scripture concerning God’s existence and used common sense to go with it, but the girl refused to pay any heed to either. I went ahead and preached the gospel to her, wanting to plant the seed of the Word in her heart and mind. She would not respond at all. When we were about to leave, she did get somewhat impolite and told us she didn’t want us talking about it to her ever again.”
“Poor Mabel was so embarrassed,” said Peggy. “My heart really went out to her.”
Dr. Dane sighed. “Well, Tharyn and I will be praying for Cassandra, that the Lord will use the Scriptures the two of you gave her to open her eyes to the truth. I’m sure Mabel has been planting the seed of the Word in the girl’s heart, too.”
The pastor nodded. “Without a doubt. She’s obviously very burdened for her. And please pray for Mabel. This situation is indeed extremely hard for her.”
“We certainly will hold Mabel before the Lord, too, Pastor,” said Dr. Dane.
On Monday afternoon, Mabel had Cassandra in the sewing room with her. She was doing some necessary sewing and was attempting to teach her niece how to sew at the same time.
Though Cassandra was not the least bit interested, she acted as if she was.
In between comments about sewing, Mabel talked about Jesus Christ, His virgin birth, what He did for sinners in His crucifixion, and His resurrection after He had died on the cross. When Mabel had brought up Jesus and His crucifixion for the fifth or sixth time, Cassandra said, “Aunt Mabel, I very much appreciate your taking me into your home, and am deeply grateful, but please don’t talk to me about your religion.”
Mabel’s eyebrows arched. “Religion? Have I mentioned religion?”
“Well, yes. You keep talking about God and Jesus and that kind of thing.”
“Honey, I’ve been talking to you about salvation. You don’t need religion, but you need salvation, and that salvation comes only by repenting of your sin, believing on Jesus, and receiving Him into your heart as your own personal Saviour.”
Cassandra drew a breath of air through her nose and let it out the same way. “Aunt Mabel, I don’t believe in God, so I certainly don’t believe in the Son of God. When somebody dies, they don’t come back from the dead. I do not believe Jesus Christ rose from the dead. It is all a fairy tale.”
Knowing the Word of God can penetrate the most stubborn mind and heart, Mabel went back to sewing, but as they worked together, she quoted Scripture after Scripture, doing her best to sow the seed of the Word in Cassandra’s heart.
They had lunch together, at which time Cassandra did not bow her head when her aunt prayed over the food.
At one o’clock, they went back into the sewing room.
At one-thirty, Mabel was showing Cassandra a particular type of stitching to do w
hen there was a knock at the front door of the house.
Cassandra sprang off her chair and hurried into the hall, saying she would get it. When she reached the front door, she opened it and found Rosemary Snyder standing there with a pained look in her eyes.
“Hello, neighbor. What can I do for you?”
Rosemary asked, “Can we talk?”
Cassandra stepped back and opened the door wider. “Why, of course. Please come in. We’ll go into the parlor.” As they were heading down the hall toward the parlor door, they saw Mabel coming toward them from the sewing room.
Mabel smiled. “Hello, Rosemary. It’s nice to see you.”
“It’s nice to see you too, Mrs. Downing.”
As her aunt drew near, Cassandra said, “Rosemary came over to talk to me about something. We’re going to talk in the parlor.”
“Oh, I see. Well, I’ll go on back to the sewing room.”
Rosemary shook her head. “Please, Mrs. Downing, I’d like for you to be in on the conversation too, if you don’t mind.”
“Well, all right, dear. I’ll be back in a moment. I just want to go to the kitchen and get each of us a glass of lemonade. You two go on into the parlor.”
Mabel bustled down the hall, and Cassandra led Rosemary into the parlor.
When they were heading for the spot where two overstuffed chairs, Mabel’s favorite rocker, and the sofa were positioned in a circle, Cassandra looked at her friend. “What’s this all about?”
“I’ll tell both of you when your aunt gets back,” said Rosemary, a tiny frown forming between her pretty green eyes.
Moments later, when Mabel returned carrying a tray with three full glasses of lemonade and a plate of sugar cookies, the young women were sitting side by side on the flowered sofa.
After giving the refreshments to Rosemary and Cassandra, Mabel placed the tray on an end table by the sofa, took the remaining glass and a couple of cookies, and lowered herself into her soft rocking chair. She took a small sip of the lemonade. “Now, dear, what is this all about?”