Like Gold Refined

by Janette Oke

  Quickly she chastised herself. That was not fair—nor was it charitable. Nor would it enhance the atmosphere of Mindy’s party. She went to welcome her younger sister and her friend.

  Dinner was waiting to be served and children were beginning to tire of the wait when Troy and Clara finally arrived.

  “I’m so sorry to keep everyone waiting” were Clara’s first words. “We had—well, we had a bit of an accident.”

  She may have dropped the subject right there, but everyone in the room was family and no one was willing to let it go without full details. It seemed that the boys had been playing ball and a window had been broken. Anthony, being the oldest, had assumed the responsibility of cleaning up the shards of glass and in the process had cut a finger. He had tried on his own to wrap the bleeding finger with a piece of cloth from his mother’s rag bag. Clara had discovered the boy cowering in his room when she trailed drops of blood that had appeared on her linoleum floor. The finger had required four stitches, and Uncle Luke had combined a doctor’s and an uncle’s sermonette as he stitched it up.

  “It’s good to be brave,” he reportedly had told the young boy. “It’s good to take responsibility for mistakes we make. But sometimes it is not wise to try to handle it all yourself. Sometimes we need to tell our parents. Or our teacher. Or the minister. Someone … big. Someone who knows what should be done about the situation.” Clara finished the matter-of-fact recounting of the incident with her arm lightly around her son’s shoulders.

  Anthony still looked a bit pale to Virginia’s thinking. She noticed that he carried the bandaged finger deep within his pants pocket. He seemed embarrassed by the whole episode.

  They were soon seated around the ample tables enjoying the feast that Virginia had worked so hard to prepare. The children behaved admirably. Even baby James spooned in his mashed potatoes without getting too much on the floor. His hand was more help than his spoon, however, and Virginia knew that he’d need a good washing once the meal had ended. Thankfully he was in between cutting new teeth and was good-natured and enjoying all of the hubbub.

  As the last piece of birthday cake was served with home? made ice cream, Jonathan managed to catch Virginia’s attention. “Do you want to clean up before Mindy gets her pres? ents?”

  Virginia knew he was anxious to share his surprise. She shook her head in answer. “I guess we don’t need to make her wait,” she responded with a smile. She wondered if it was Mindy who would suffer—or Jonathan—if she decided to wait. He looked relieved.

  As soon as the guests began to push back their chairs, Jonathan rose and held up a hand. “I think it’s time for the birthday girl to open her gifts.”

  Mindy began to eagerly squirm on her seat.

  “Let’s just clear a spot on the table in front of her,” Jonathan went on. Virginia had her lap full with the now sleepy James, and Francine jumped up to remove the dishes.

  The parcels were then placed in front of Mindy. With a flushed face she looked toward Virginia for permission to begin. Virginia nodded. Martha crowded in close to Mindy’s elbow, as anxious to see what the packages contained as Mindy herself. Olivia pressed against the other side, her little face just barely able to peek over the tabletop to observe the proceedings. Virginia guessed she was standing on her tiptoes.

  The first present was from Grandpa Clark and Grandma Marty. A new hand-knit sweater. Virginia’s eyes lifted to her mother’s face. See, she wanted to say, she is still able to do things for herself. Mindy “oohed” over the sweater and pronounced it her favorite color.

  Francine’s gift was next. The package was very small, and Mindy’s hands fairly trembled in her excitement as she opened it. It was a cameo. Elegant and expensive looking. Virginia’s breath caught in her throat. Francine had been the one family member who never seemed to forget that Mindy was Jenny’s child. Virginia had often wondered if her sister had ever really accepted Mindy as a niece. But the cameo was beautiful. Virginia blinked back tears.

  Mindy expressed her warm thanks, accompanied by an even warmer hug, and Francine’s eyes became a bit misty.

  Mindy moved to open the gift from her grandfather Woods. It was a desk set. “If you’re going to learn to help your ole granddaddy with the newspaper business, you need to start getting some ink on your fingers,” he teased. Mindy beamed, then turned to another parcel.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Virginia saw Jonathan shift on his chair. He was impatient for the girl to get to his sur? prise. But Mindy was taking her time, savoring each moment of unwrapping her birthday delights.

  Martha was not always so patient and now and then reached out a helping hand to tear back some wrap to expose the gift more quickly. Mindy seemed to understand. “Hurry up,” Martha prompted on one occasion and was echoed by Olivia, “Hu’wy up.”

  At last the final package was disclosed. On the table before Mindy were all the new treasures. Beside her on the kitchen floor were remains of the wrappings. A wide smile played across the young girl’s face. “ This is my best birthday ever,” she exclaimed.

  “But wait,” said Jonathan, standing up, a pretend frown on his face. “There seems to be something missing.”

  Mindy looked up in surprise, then back at her display of gifts again. What could possibly be missing? her eyes seemed to ask.

  “I don’t see any gift from your ma and pa. Nor Slate. Slate—didn’t you get the birthday girl anything?”

  Slate scratched his head. “Now … how could I have for? gotten that?” he replied, as though deeply perplexed.

  But Mindy was taking the little charade seriously. “It’s all right, Papa,” she was quick to encourage him. “I don’t need anything more.” Her arms went out to encircle what she already had. “I’ve got lots of nice things.”

  But Jonathan looked again to Slate. “Do you suppose we might be able to find her something?”

  Slate stood up. “I’ll take a look around,” he said and reached for his hat. “Seems to me that I saw somethin’ down in the barn with her name on it.”

  Jonathan’s grin nearly split his face. “Check it out,” he said with a nod toward the door.

  Everyone in the room appeared to be enjoying the little game—except Mindy. She looked totally puzzled by it all.

  Jonathan turned to her. “I think your mama would give you permission to change from your pretty birthday dress to one of your play outfits,” he prompted. “Why don’t you run do that?”

  Mindy looked again to Virginia. Her mother nodded. Still with a puzzled look, Mindy went to change her attire.

  “I smell a surprise coming,” Clark whispered loudly as soon as the girl had left the room.

  Jonathan just kept smiling. “Let’s all move out to the porch. Slate should be back shortly.”

  Even though the porch was roomy, the group filled it to overflowing. Chairs were placed for Clark and Marty at the front so they would miss nothing. Drew and Belinda helped them to make the short walk and be seated. Just as the milling crowd settled itself, the barn door opened and Slate moved out, two horses moving obediently behind him. Both animals were saddled and bridled, ready for riding. At his command they stopped and waited for him to reclose the door. Then he turned and mounted the black, picking up the reins to the sorrel. Virginia spotted the bright red ribbon that decorated the smaller horse’s mane. The saddle was also bedecked. In big black letters on bright white paper it declared, Happy Birthday, Mindy! In spite of her hesitation in agreeing to the plan, Virginia felt her heart pounding in anticipation of Mindy’s delight.

  Mindy would be so thrilled to have her own horse.

  They did not need to wait for long. Slate just barely had time to position the horse beside the front porch, red ribbon and birthday greeting showing, when Mindy hurried out to join them on the porch, still frowning over her strange orders.

  She was gently nudged forward. But it was Martha who could not wait. “Look, Mindy,” she squealed. “It’s a horse.”

  Mindy stood tran
sfixed, her eyes traveling over the entire length of the sorrel. She did not seem to be able to believe what she was seeing. “Do I get to ride her?” she finally man? aged to say.

  Jonathan, whose arm had not left the small child’s shoulders, beamed down upon her. “As much as you like,” he said. “She’s all yours.”

  “Mine?”

  The girl still did not appear to understand.

  “Yours.”

  “My very own?”

  “Your very own.”

  “To keep?”

  Jonathan began to laugh, a strange-sounding laugh. Virginia wondered if his throat was as tight as her own. He pulled the little girl close to his chest as he knelt down on the porch boards. “She is yours, Mindy. Yours. To keep. Always.”

  The child threw her arms around her father’s neck and burst into tears. It was hardly what Jonathan or any or them had expected. He held her while an emotional family looked on, and Slate shuffled his feet and cleared his throat as he toyed with the leather reins.

  At last Mindy lifted her tearstained face. Her chin was still wobbly, but she managed a smile. “You are the best papa in the whole wide world,” she said, and she leaned over to kiss his cheek. It was almost too much for Jonathan. He pulled the little girl back into his arms and held her while he fought for composure. That was too much for Virginia. She buried her face against small James and wept silently. But no one was paying much mind. They were all too busy wiping their own tears.

  “Well, now,” said Jonathan at last. “Are you gonna ride this here horse of yours—or just look at her?”

  Mindy smiled her answer.

  “Come, then. I’ll boost you up.”

  From her place in the saddle, Mindy beamed at her gathered family. She was too happy even to speak.

  “Now, the horse and bridle are from your mama and me, but the saddle—that’s from Slate,” said Jonathan as he passed her the reins.

  Mindy turned her eyes to Slate. “Thank you, Slate. I like it—I love it.”

  The young man looked pleased but also a bit embarrassed.

  “You’re ready now?” asked Jonathan, giving the horse’s neck a pat. Virginia was relieved to see that the animal had stood quietly through all the commotion. It did appear that Jonathan had been right. Slate did have the animal ready for a young rider. Mindy gathered up the reins and urged the horse forward. She responded without question. Virginia felt further relief as Slate moved his mount beside the young girl. He would accompany her on the maiden excursion. Perhaps Virginia’s mother-heart could relax and she could start breathing again.

  They stood and watched the two riders until they disappeared behind the trees of the lane; then one by one the group began to filter back into the house. There was still the cleaning up to be done. Virginia, who felt suddenly drained and tired, was glad for many helping hands.

  “It was a good birthday, don’t you think?” Jonathan expressed when they were finally retiring for the night. Virginia could only nod her agreement. It had been a good birthday. Mindy was still too excited to settle down even as she was tucked into bed for the night. Virginia was thankful that the morrow was Sunday. That Mindy would not need to be awakened early to prepare for a day of school.

  “Slate said she handled the horse like an expert.”

  Virginia smiled. “She is your daughter. What did you expect?”

  Jonathan chuckled, looking pleased with her comment.

  “And the horse responded to every command she gave,” Jonathan went on.

  “Slate does a good job.”

  “Slate does an excellent job. Boy, did we luck out when we got that boy.”

  Virginia smiled. “I was just thinking as I looked at him today. He’s not such a boy anymore, Jonathan. He’s grown up. Right before our eyes … he’s grown up.”

  Jonathan seemed stilled by the thought. “Reckon you’re right,” he said at length.

  “Won’t be long until he’ll be wanting a place of his own. What will we do then?”

  His hand stopped on the way to removing a sock. “Don’t rightly know,” he said a last. “I’ve never thought on it, I guess.”

  “Well, seems to me that we’re going to have to think about it one of these days,” responded Virginia. “It’s going to come all too soon.”

  The observation put them both in a pensive mood as they continued to prepare for bed. Another looming change.

  “Mama … I can’t sleep.”

  Virginia managed to open her eyes. Mindy stood by her bed, one hand clutching a well-worn rag doll. It had been some time since the little girl had brought the doll to the bedside.

  “What is it?” asked Virginia sleepily. The room was lit by a full moon that cast soft yellowy light upon the child’s features. Virginia saw the girl’s chin tremble.

  “Are you sick?” asked Virginia, a hand going out to feel the child’s cheek.

  “No,” replied a trembling voice.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Can … can you get up so we won’t bother Papa?”

  Virginia threw back the blankets. “Of course.”

  With one arm about the little girl’s shoulders, she ushered her from the room. “Can we go downstairs?” Mindy was asking as Virginia gently eased the door closed behind them.

  Virginia felt panic. Something was wrong. Mindy had never made such strange requests. “Let me light a lamp,” she responded. “It’s too dark on the steps.”

  She retrieved a lamp from the girls’ room and watched as the small flame grew into a light that would guide their way. All the way down the stairs her mind kept wrestling. What is wrong with the child? Why this strange request in the middle of the night?

  When they reached the living room she put the lamp on a small table and pulled the little girl to her side. She eased them both onto the couch and hugged the trembling child close, one hand fingering the hair of the head that rested just beneath her chin. “What is it, honey? What’s troubling you?”

  Then a sudden thought buzzed through Virginia’s mind. “Is it your new horse?”

  “Sort of “ came a shaky whisper.

  Virginia was silent. Why was the gift troubling Mindy? She had always loved animals.

  “Don’t you like her?”

  “I love her.” The little girl was crying. Softly. Up against her mother’s breast.

  Silence again.

  “Is there another horse you like better?”

  “No.”

  “Then what is it?”

  It took Mindy a while to gather enough control to answer. “I need to pray,” she finally managed.

  “Pray?” The answer caught Virginia by surprise.

  Mindy’s tears increased. Virginia felt the child’s head bob? bing up against her in her reply of yes.

  When she could finally speak, the child pushed back and looked up into her mother’s face. “I asked God for a horse,” she disclosed. “A little while ago. But I didn’t get it. So I told God … I told Him that I didn’t believe that He really … is. That I didn’t believe He could do good things … that I didn’t believe His Book. That the stories were all just … made up. I even told Him that … that I didn’t like Him. I told Him that I didn’t want to be His girl.” The last came out in a rush of tears and the weeping of a broken heart.

  Virginia held her close for a long time. Her own thoughts were busy. What if she had insisted that Mindy was not ready for the horse? What if?

  “And now?” Virginia prompted when Mindy seemed to have control again.

  “I do want to be His girl, Mama. Honest. So now I need to say I’m sorry,” the child sobbed.

  “Yes … yes I think you do. We all—at one time or another—need to tell God we’re sorry. When we doubt Him. When we realize we haven’t believed that He is really who He says He is. When we refuse to accept His Word. I had to ask God to forgive me, too.”

  “You did?”

  “I did.”

  “When you were a little girl?”


  “I was older than you. I thought that I knew better than God how my life should be lived. I thought I knew better than my folks, too. But then I realized God was right. That my own way was wrong. Selfish. Willful. I had to admit to God that I was disobedient. Disobedience—doubt—that’s what we call sin. I had to ask God to forgive me.”

  “Did He? Did He forgive you?”

  “Oh, yes. He did. Just like He says in His Word. He always forgives the repentant heart. He always hears us when we say we’re sorry.”

  “Can we pray? Now?”

  Virginia kissed her child and hugged her closer. “We can. And we will … but first … first I think that I’d like to go get your father. I think this is one prayer he wouldn’t want to miss.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Virginia didn’t think the name Buttercup suited the horse at all and wondered where Mindy had ever gotten the idea that a yellow flower was fitting for a sorrel, but no one pro? tested. Olivia had a difficult time with the name, and after her childish tongue tripped over it several times, she settled on Bubba. Virginia smiled, and Mindy, after attempting a few corrections, good-naturedly accepted Bubba as the pet name for her beloved mount.

  Over the days and weeks that followed, Virginia detected subtle changes in their oldest. She wasn’t sure if they came simply from the birthday and another year of age, the horse, or the fact that Mindy had prayed her prayer of forgiveness and now was consciously thinking about her relationship with God. It both sobered and thrilled Virginia. Their little girl was growing up. She was now accepting responsibility in a new way. She was more patient with the younger ones. She appeared cheerful, settled, and content in some unexplainable way. A real joy to have in the household.

  Mindy loved her Buttercup and rode and groomed her whenever she had opportunity. After the first few heart? wrenching times of solo ventures, Virginia was able to relax. Mindy did not go far and rode with good judgment—not pressing her horse to do anything like jumping fallen logs or wading swollen streams. Jonathan or Slate went with her whenever it was possible, tucking either Martha or Olivia into their arms on the front of the saddle.