Unyielding Hope

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Unyielding Hope Page 7

by Janette Oke


  But two more days went by, and the hunger he’d been so familiar with in the past came back full force. The lady at the mercantile said she had no need of help but suggested he try the local livery stable. It was there he found an opportunity that was more promising. Cleaning the barns daily would merit him a morning meal and a small coin at the end of the day. He accepted readily.

  The work was hard and heavy, but he liked the company. The stabled horses became his friends. He talked to them as he worked beside them, scraping away the piles of dirty straw and loading one heavy shovelful at a time into a wheelbarrow.

  “You’re looking even chubbier today,” he informed the red. “Don’t seem like you’re getting near enough exercise. Maybe sometime I could take you out—not to ride you. But just to walk you ’round the yard a time or two. Maybe sometime soon, if I show I’m trustworthy.”

  Then with a pitchfork he’d spread the fresh straw beneath her. “I’ll leave extra in the corner where you like to be, Meg. See, I know you want to sleep there near your friend.” He waited for the nicker he knew would follow and rubbed under the mare’s stubbled chin.

  The only animal that didn’t seem to desire his company was an old black gelding with a ragged scar down his left rear flank. The black was mean. After having the sleeve of his shirt torn by teeth and his thigh grazed by the evil intent of a hoof, Lemuel learned to stay well out of reach. He determined to leave the black until last. If he timed it correctly, the stall might be empty and the horse out pulling the butcher’s delivery cart while Lemuel worked. He found himself whispering a little prayer each day that it might be so.

  Several more frustrating days passed before Mr. Dorn was able to contact Grace. They discovered that she’d actually been a nanny for a family previously, just as they’d been told, but that she’d chosen to remain in the Lethbridge area when the family had returned to the East. They learned that Grace had kept close ties to the last children’s home into which she’d been placed, following the closing of Little Pines and a short time back in Calgary. Brayton House had come to replace Little Pines after two years had passed. Grace was returned to Lethbridge, and that was where she’d lived through her teenage years. It was also where she’d continued to volunteer even after reaching adulthood and finding employment elsewhere. She was known in the Lethbridge area and well loved.

  Lillian heard a squeal of delight over the telephone line when Mr. Dorn mentioned that he was seeking her out on behalf of a family member. He learned that Grace worked as a waitress in a local restaurant and lived in a small house nearby. The voice on the telephone promised to relay the message to Grace, and Mr. Dorn explained that they would travel there from Calgary, arriving midmorning the next day at the restaurant where Grace worked. As he hung up the telephone he seemed rather triumphant.

  “Well, well, young lady. You were what we needed in order to further our investigation. And now we have an appointment to see your sister. You must be very happy.”

  Words could not describe the tumbling emotions that Lillian was feeling.

  It took more than three full hours to drive from Mr. Dorn’s office in Calgary across the rolling prairie to the street in Lethbridge where Grace worked. In all her life, Lillian had never spent as much time in an automobile as she had during the last few weeks. The rumbling of the engine, the incessant heat even with windows halfway down, her hair flying every which way beneath her hat. It was exhausting. Mr. Wattley, from the back seat, chatted amiably with Mr. Dorn about farming and city life and local politics.

  Lillian remained silent, staring at the road ahead, willing the time to pass quickly. And yet, she struggled with nervous questions. How will Grace react? Will she be angry? Will she be beaten down by the difficult life she’s known? Will she resent the fact that her sister grew up in a family, while she’s been passed from orphanage to orphanage, having to fend for herself? Will she be bitter and withdrawn? If they’d traded places, Lillian wondered how she herself might react to this reunion.

  At last they pulled up next to the wooden sidewalk in front of a small restaurant. Lillian felt herself pitch forward as their vehicle came to a stop. It sputtered for a moment before the engine died. Instantly, she became aware that her hands were still trembling. She waited for Mr. Wattley to exit the back seat and open her door. With one foot on the dirt road, she found it necessary to steady herself by clutching the frame of the automobile. What will Grace be like? Will she accept our family connection? Her heeled boots echoed with a hollow sound on the wooden walkway beneath Lillian’s slow, deliberate steps. It was difficult to breathe.

  Before they’d arrived at the door, it flew open and a young woman rushed out. “Lilly? Oh, you are Lilly! I can’t believe it! Praise God! Oh, Lilly, I just can’t believe you’re here.” Arms encircled her, hugging her tightly.

  Overwhelmed with emotion, Lillian dropped her face down against Grace’s shoulder. Her tears began to flow. She could feel her sister’s hands on the back of her head, then patting her shoulders, then squeezing her close again. Her sister was vibrant and animated with happiness. For several moments Lillian couldn’t speak, then she finally managed, “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Gracie.”

  “What?” Grace’s face drew back, wet with tears, though her arms held Lillian just as close. “Whatever for?” Her eyes were wide with surprise, still glowing with joy.

  Speaking the answer aloud caused Lillian’s face to contort, her lip to quiver. “I left you. Gracie, I left you.”

  “No, Lilly. No.” Again they held one another tightly, weeping openly. “You had no more choice in the matter than I did—or Mama and Papa. Nothing is your fault!”

  “But I didn’t look for you. I didn’t know. I thought you were . . .”

  “Dead?” Grace’s laugh lifted the dreadful word into the air. And somehow the airy way she pronounced it took away all of its sting.

  “Yes, that, but you’re not.”

  “No, Lilly, I’m not.” Her soft brown eyes sparkled. “And we’re together now. I can hardly believe it. But it’s really you.” She laughed again. “And you’re beautiful! More beautiful than I always imagined you to be. Because I always pictured you out there somewhere.” She reached up gently to tidy a loose strand of hair under Lillian’s hat. “I just didn’t picture you as a ginger.” With a wink she added, “But I always believed we’d find one another again. I was completely certain.”

  Lillian smiled back through her tears.

  Mr. Dorn cleared his throat and interrupted their reunion. “If you don’t mind, ladies, would you be willing to step inside now? Mr. Wattley and I will leave you alone at a table to catch up, but at any rate we’ll all be off the street and out of the way.”

  Grace laughed again. Stepping away, she linked an arm through Lillian’s and drew her inside. The dining room was darker than outdoors, small and scantily furnished with only a handful of tables. There were just two diners already, but the few staff were clustered nearby, obviously having watched through the large front window. “Everyone,” Grace announced confidently, “this is my sister, my very dear sister, Lilly.”

  In the clamor of excited chatter, Lillian found herself ushered to a bare-topped table and seated on a bent-cane chair. The cluster of staff followed them, hovering close by, exclaiming the same statements again and again. “I can’t believe it! Who would have thought? What a day! What a day!”

  “I’ll bring you two coffees,” a woman offered.

  Grace shook her head vigorously. “Oh no, this calls for a celebration, Anne. Bring us two ice cream sodas. What flavor would you like, Lilly?”

  A deep breath, followed by a shrug. “Fine then, I’ll have strawberry, please.”

  “Strawberry it is—for me and my sister.”

  After several more statements of congratulations, the small crew dissipated. Grace and Lillian found themselves alone at the table.

  Grace sighed. “We have so much to say that I don’t even know where to begin.”

  �
��I know! Just tell me about what happened to you, where you’ve been—how you’ve been, Gracie.”

  “Well then, I’ll go first.” Her sister wrinkled her freckled nose in a wry smile. “But I should be honest and tell you I go by Grace now. Just Grace.”

  Lillian laughed. “Well then, you should probably call me Lillian too.”

  “Oh, it suits you. So much older—I mean, more dignified—than Lilly.” She followed quickly with, “Well . . . oh, what to say?”

  Lillian leaned closer, hungry to have answers at last. “Were you ever actually sick?”

  “No, I wasn’t. I’ve been told that they did give me that needle and it came out as if I were ill. But I was just exposed. I never really contracted tuberculosis at all.”

  “Where’d you go? Were you awfully scared?”

  “I don’t remember very well. I was so small at the time. I remember my little stuffed lamb. I don’t think I put that down for years—it was always tucked under my arm. People teased me about it. But it brought me comfort, so no one truly cared.” She tipped her head as she pondered the memories. “I don’t remember even feeling terribly sad. I was safe and warm and fed. It’s just that I knew I was going to die soon.”

  “What?”

  “Well, I heard the nurses talking. They were all very kind and gentle. But I suppose I figured out pretty quickly that I was surrounded by dying people in the sanitarium. So I just assumed it would be my turn fairly soon. And I was quite fine with that.”

  Lillian’s mouth opened to speak, then closed wordlessly.

  “Honestly, Lillian. I can’t explain it, but I wasn’t worried. The treatment prescribed was simply to be outdoors as much as possible in the healthy air, which I loved. I wasn’t in any pain—wasn’t tired or bedraggled like the others there. I have vague memories of a row of deck chairs lined up on the porches, people tucked under blankets most of the time, all of them coughing. But I just played and played. I missed all of you, of course. But mostly I thought about being in heaven with Mama and Papa soon. So I was content enough with waiting for my turn to die.”

  “Oh, Grace!”

  “It sounds a little pathetic, I see that, but it really wasn’t. And then weeks turned into months, and months became a year—and then a new doctor examined me and determined that I wasn’t infectious at all, that I was perfectly healthy.”

  Lillian sank back in her chair. She exhaled. “Incredible!”

  “I was actually a little disappointed at first. But I think even though I was still very young, God just ministered to my little heart. He gave me such assurance that I was still in the center of His care and that I didn’t need to worry about a thing. There was one nurse in particular who read to me from the Bible and encouraged my simple faith.” She paused contemplatively. “I wish I could remember her name. I always wanted to go back and thank her, but I can’t remember anything besides her face.”

  “That’s wonderful you had her.” Lillian studied Grace’s expression. It was confident and lighthearted. She seemed so sure about God—that He was kind and caring. Lillian dropped her eyes to the table just as the sodas arrived.

  Grace didn’t seem to notice her change of demeanor. “But tell me about you. What happened? Where did you go?”

  Gathering her thoughts as she sipped from her straw, Lillian began timidly, “I don’t feel as if I remember as much as you. It’s strange, because I’m older.”

  “Hmm, do you talk about that time very much?”

  Lillian was quick to shake her head. “No, never. Hardly ever.”

  Grace seemed to understand far more fully than Lillian. “I’ve answered those same questions so many times. People frequently ask me—strangers even. I don’t suppose that’s been your experience. People in your life were probably too polite to pry. So we can more easily forget what we push aside.”

  Sometimes I wished they had. Lillian felt a stirring to be truly known. I think it would be good, even healthy, to open up now. She closed her eyes for a moment before beginning. “I was adopted—very quickly, as a matter of fact. I don’t have many memories before that time. I suppose I’ve shut most of it out.” It took concerted effort to draw the information from her mind, and even more determination to describe it aloud. She doubted she’d ever spoken with anyone about those days before. “I recall snapshots of staying at an orphanage in Calgary and being terribly lonely—just miserable—as if I were the only person left alive in the world. All the others around me, they just seemed like ghosts or something. That’s the only way I can describe it—like I was walking among phantoms.”

  “Did you have nightmares? Most of us had frequent bad dreams.”

  “Yes, at first especially. They gradually faded away, but even now they come back sometimes. I was told later that within a couple of weeks I was driven back to Brookfield, where we’d lived.”

  “You were? You went back to the town we’d moved away from?”

  “Not just the town—oh, Grace, the very same house!”

  “What? But how?” Grace cocked her head in disbelief.

  “Well, the couple who’d purchased our house were the Walshes—Elliott and Mae Walsh. They were the ones who adopted me.”

  “That’s amazing.”

  Lillian tried to remember how Father had summarized the story. “It’s a small town, and so the people knew of Mama and Papa’s circumstances. The church there prayed for our family while they were ill, and as soon as they heard the news that they’d passed away, the pastor told the congregation, and the Walshes asked if there was a way I could be brought back home again, since everyone knew there was no next of kin. They wanted to adopt me.” Lillian jolted upright. “Of course, we were told then that you’d passed away too, or I know, believe me I know, that Mother and Father—the Walshes—would have gladly taken you too. If only they’d known! I’m so sorry. If only . . .” A sudden vision of growing up in Mother’s home with Grace there, too, shredded Lillian’s heart.

  Grace’s hand crossed the table and tightened around Lillian’s. “It’s fine, Lillian. I was where God put me. I don’t regret anything that happened. It brought me to where I am today—and I’m completely happy with what I’m doing.” She nodded her head earnestly to emphasize her words. “And I knew He’d bring you back into my life at the right time. I’ve always been convinced of that. I’ve been waiting patiently. Because I knew.”

  Lillian whispered, “I wish I had your kind of faith.” Then her eyes dropped again.

  “You will.” Grace’s hand squeezed tighter for a moment. “Now, tell me what your home—our home—was like when you lived there with your new family. Do you have brothers and sisters? Tell me everything you’ve been up to.”

  With a sense of trust and candor Lillian rarely felt, she poured out her story to Grace. At points they cried together, a salve to Lillian’s wounded heart.

  Long before they were finished, Mr. Dorn and Mr. Wattley approached the table. Mr. Dorn said, “Sorry to interrupt your time together. Unfortunately, there are a few legalities to which we still need to attend. And it won’t be long until it’ll be time to return to Calgary.” He set his leather satchel on an empty chair, unbuckled it, and began drawing paperwork from it.

  It was only then that Lillian realized additional diners had begun to gather for lunch. She sighed, moved their empty drinking glasses to the side, and wiped at the table with the corner of her handkerchief. Leaning close to Grace, she whispered, “I don’t enjoy this part. I don’t quite understand it.”

  “I don’t either, but if it brought you back to me, I’m so grateful.” Grace winked and carried the used dishes to the counter. Then she brought a damp cloth to wipe the table. Lillian studied her as she moved around the room easily. Grace seemed self-assured, unrestrained. They were still so new to one another. It was going to take time to truly know each other—not just the stories they’d shared but the people they’d become.

  Mr. Dorn laid out the paperwork. He brought it out in careful order, explain
ing each page before asking the women to sign it. Lillian understood that it all had to do with the will and the estate, but she found it impossible to focus on the particulars. After all, she was sitting across the table from Grace. She was watching how her sister moved, listening to the lilt in her voice, hearing the joy that so obviously flowed just beneath the surface. Something in the way she smiles is so familiar. Is it a little like Papa? Or is the memory of little Gracie’s smile somewhere in my memory too? It’s a miracle, that much is certain!

  Lillian signed her name whenever instructed and watched Grace do the same. Once the legal tasks had been completed, Mr. Dorn was anxious to depart again for Calgary. As she held her sister tightly, Lillian promised to hurry back as quickly as possible. Mr. Dorn agreed that he’d help her find a place to stay in Lethbridge and would hire a car to return her again soon. Still, she felt frustrated to be saying good-bye after waiting for so long already.

  “It’s not good-bye,” Grace murmured against Lillian’s hair. “It’s just a ‘see you soon’ this time.”

  “That’s right. I’ll see you soon.”

  This time the long drive across the prairie had entirely changed. Lillian’s heart was full.

  CHAPTER 6

  Crossroads

  This is my home.” Grace motioned up the walkway that led to a small wooden house. Lillian watched the driver pull away, lifted her traveling case from where he’d set it in the dirt. This time she’d stay in Lethbridge. She and Grace could finally really get to know each other.

 

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