Like Gold Refined

by Janette Oke

  “This has been a fun day, Mama,” she whispered just before she dropped off to sleep. “I will never forget it.”

  Nor will I, echoed in Virginia’s heart.

  They said prayers together and kissed her good-night. She was sleeping almost as soon as Virginia had tucked the covers up under her chin.

  It was too early to retire. Virginia felt restless in spite of her weariness. She had brought a book to read, but she had no interest in the story. It was proving very difficult to quiet her thoughts and relax enough to rest. She idly thought that she should have brought some hand work. Socks to darn or torn pinafores to mend. She wandered over to the window, drew aside the curtain, and looked out on the wintry night. The streets were almost empty. A few cars moved about, but the sidewalks were nearly void of people.

  “Isn’t this the city where you stayed with that preacher?” Jonathan asked quietly.

  Virginia turned back reflectively. “Yes. Yes, the Blacks. I had quite forgotten,” she answered, keeping her voice also low so Mindy would not be disturbed.

  “Perhaps we should give them a ring—see if they are still around.”

  “I doubt he would remember me. It was such a long time ago.”

  “You say he. Wasn’t there a family?”

  “Just the minister and his mother. But the mother married and moved away.”

  “The minister wasn’t married?”

  “Not at the time. I’m sure he would be by now. Likely with a family the size of ours—or more.”

  “I wonder if he’s still here.”

  “It would be interesting to know. Maybe in the morning we should try to look him up.”

  “We are to be at the law office by ten.”

  Virginia only nodded. She knew that. It still made her heart constrict—but she no longer fought against it.

  “I wonder if Jenny will be there?” she mused.

  “She’d better be,” responded Jonathan, an edge in his tone. “I refuse to give Mindy to anyone else.”

  Oh, please God—no trouble, pleaded Virginia silently. It’s going to be painful enough without any difficulties. …

  She turned back to the window. It had begun to snow. Light, silvery-fine flakes that sifted down from the sky.

  “It’s snowing,” she murmured.

  “I’m glad we didn’t try to motor.”

  She nodded. It would have been foolish to try the drive in the winter.

  “Are you going to be able to sleep?”

  She shook her head doubtfully.

  “I don’t think I will, either. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll go down and see if I can find a city newspaper.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “Would you like anything?”

  Yes, thought Virginia, I would. I would like to turn right around and go home with our little girl. Aloud she said, “No … thank you.”

  Jonathan quietly left and Virginia continued to watch the snow fall. It seemed symbolic somehow. Like a new world. A fresh start. Not a better world. Or a more desirable start. Just … newness. A strange unbroken path that they must now traverse—making exposed steps that would leave their mark for all to see. Would the steps be sure—confident? Or would they stumble some? Perhaps. Perhaps there would be a bit of faltering … but with God’s help they would not fall.

  They were ushered in to the austere offices by the same professionally cool lady. She said nothing beyond a perfunctory greeting but nodded her head that they were to follow. The attorney was no more than civil. “It’s good you have realized the proper rights in this case,” he informed them. “Saves us all a lot of time.” Jonathan did not answer. Virginia saw the stiffness of his jaw and knew he was holding himself firmly in check.

  The man turned to the child. “So you are going to live with your real mother,” he noted.

  Mindy did not blink. “This is my real mother,” she said almost shyly yet with confidence as she gestured toward virginia. “But Mama Jenny is sick. She needs me, so I will live with her.”

  The lawyer’s eyes flashed, but he did not say anything.

  “Your real mother,” he said again, stressing the word, “is in my office, waiting for you. She is most anxious to have you back.”

  Mindy nodded. “I used to be with her,” she said, her tone even, “until she gave me away.”

  “Who told you that,” the man demanded, straightening up and staring at Jonathan and Virginia with an accusing expression.

  “I heard her. I was little. But I heard her.”

  Virginia was shocked at this news. How could she have known? She was three. …

  “She … she couldn’t care for you … at the time,” the man attempted to answer the implied charge.

  “No—” said Mindy. “She didn’t want me. I heard her say so. She wanted my other papa to come back.”

  Virginia didn’t have any idea that the child had carried the ugly reality with her all this time. Her memory brought her back to that tiny, silent figure sitting absolutely still in the chair, only her thumb for security. Because she did not speak, they had mistakenly assumed that neither did she understand. …

  “But it’s okay,” Mindy continued her explanation of events. “Mama and Papa taught me to love her anyway. She still needs Jesus to forgive her, and she hasn’t asked Him to yet.”

  Virginia slowly let out her breath, not daring to move. She noticed Jonathan’s hands gradually unclench as he relaxed. He reached out to enclose her trembling fingers in his firm grasp.

  The lawyer was the one who now looked tense. “Well,” he finally said briskly, “let’s get on with it. Come—I’ll take you to your mother,” he said to Mindy.

  Jonathan stepped forward and took Mindy’s hand. “No,” he said. “We will take her to her mother.”

  “Her mother has no desire to see you,” the man announced bluntly.

  “Then I guess she won’t see her child, either.”

  “ This is preposterous!” he sputtered. “You said you would—”

  “And we have,” Jonathan answered. “We are here. Mindy is here. If Jenny wishes to take the child, she will come to receive her.”

  The man stood for a moment, looking from one determined face to another. Finally he went to the door of his office and instructed his receptionist, “Show them into the conference room.”

  Jonathan turned back to the lawyer and said, keeping his voice low, “You will understand our deep concern for Mindy’s welfare, that she is fed and cared for properly, that she attends school regularly.”

  The man did not answer but simply stared back at Jona? than.

  “We would appreciate it if you could check—”

  “I will make no such promises,” he said dismissively.

  But Virginia noted the flicker of uncertainty in the man’s eyes. She took some small comfort that this seemingly uncaring person might have just a bit of sympathy for Mindy and the unknowns of the situation into which she was headed. Maybe he would follow up on Mindy’s circumstances in the near future.

  The meeting room was darkly paneled with heavy brocade draperies and plush stiff-backed chairs. The soft carpet drew an “Ooh” from Mindy.

  After a wait of some minutes, the door opened and the law? yer held it while Jenny stepped through. She cast one disdainful look toward Virginia, then proceeded to Mindy. Without any greeting, she said, “Let’s go.”

  Virginia felt her throat tighten. Just like that. “Let’s go.” No hellos. No good-byes. Nothing.

  “Jenny … ” she began, moving forward. But Jenny would not even look her way.

  Mindy turned to Virginia. Her arms went around Virginia’s waist. She held tight. Virginia pressed the small body to hers, tears pouring down her cheeks in spite of her resolve. Jonathan lowered himself until he was kneeling on the thick carpet, his hands on the little girl’s shoulders. She disentangled herself from Virginia and turned to him. “I love you, Papa,” Virginia heard her say. She knew he was too moved to answer as he held her close,
his hand stroking her hair.

  At last he was able to speak. “I love you, Scamp,” he said, using the old pet name that Virginia had not heard him use for years. “We will be praying for you—every day—many times a day. I love you, Mindy.” Virginia could barely see him kiss her forehead for the tears filling her eyes.

  It was Virginia’s turn for one more hug. One more kiss. One more whisper of love. She held Mindy close while they both wept. Oh, she so wanted to straighten and announce, We’ve changed our minds, and walk out with the child. But instead Virginia released her and whispered one last word. “God will be with you.”

  “I will write you letters,” whispered Mindy. Virginia had tucked paper and preaddressed stamped envelopes into Jenny’s bag.

  Virginia glanced at the stony-faced Jenny. Would she let Mindy write? An occasional letter would be such a comfort—just to hear how the child was doing, hopefully that she was all right.

  And then she was gone. Walking by the side of a grim-faced mother, the lawyer following with the two suitcases in tow.

  Virginia turned blindly to Jonathan, and they held each other and wept.

  They did not have the energy to try to contact Reverend Black. They had a few hours before their train left, but they did not feel they could talk with anyone for the moment. They did check the phone directory and found his name with the church listing. They would want to contact him when they returned home in case he could find a way to be of help to Mindy and Jenny.

  When they went back to their hotel room, Virginia slipped out of her shoes and sank on the edge of the bed, feeling absolutely drained.

  “Why don’t you lie down for a while,” Jonathan suggested.

  “I’d never be able to sleep.”

  “You could at least rest.”

  Yes, thought Virginia, rest would be good.

  She stretched out on the bed and turned to her Lord. God, please be with her, she prayed for the thousandth time. Things will be strange. So different. She’ll be lonely. Be her comfort. May she be able to help Jenny understand about you. I couldn’t do it, Lord—as much as I have tried. Jenny’s always rejected what I had to say. She has turned away from you. May Mindy be able to say what I could not. She’s so anxious to bring her mother to you. Be with her, Lord. Be with our precious girl. …

  She was surprised when she felt Jonathan touch her arm. “I think we’d better get ready to catch that train,” he said. She had actually slept.

  Already it was dark by the time the train pulled into the station. Drew was there to meet them with the car running to keep the vehicle warm for the drive home.

  “It’s snowed a fair bit,” he told them. “Your mother phoned earlier from your house to suggest that you stay at our house for the night, but I think the roads will be passable.”

  Virginia hoped so. She wanted desperately to get home to her family.

  They had no problem with the roads, and when they reached the farm the house was warm—and quiet. All the children were in bed. Virginia went in to check on them. They slept peacefully, Olivia snuggled up close against Martha. The bed where Mindy should have been was conspicuously empty. Virginia felt her throat tighten, and she softly touched the cheek of each sleeping child.

  “And how was our girl?” asked Drew when Virginia had returned to the kitchen.

  “She did extremely well,” replied Jonathan. “We both were so proud of her.”

  “It’s not going to be easy,” Belinda whispered, wiping at her eyes.

  “No—not for any of us,” Virginia whispered back. The two women held each other a long moment.

  There was silence, and then Virginia asked the question that had been on her heart for many days. “Papa—what hap? pens when—if Jenny dies?”

  “She will need to prepare a will—naming a guardian.” With Jenny as angry as she was, it didn’t seem likely she would be naming them as Mindy’s guardian. “And if she doesn’t?”

  “Mindy—if she is underage—will become the ward of the state.”

  “And that means?”

  He shook his head. “Who knows?” he answered honestly. “It will depend on what attorney is involved. Jenny’s attorney seems rather … antagonistic.”

  Yes, thought Virginia, her heart sinking, he certainly does.

  They settled into some kind of familiar routine, even though everything had changed. Daily Mindy’s name was mentioned in their prayers. Every day Virginia hurried down the lane to the mailbox, hoping, praying for a letter, but every day she walked back with empty hands and an aching heart.

  Many times the children asked for their older sister. Even little James looked around questioningly when her name was said.

  “Murphy looks so sad when he comes down the lane,” insisted Martha. “He’s just a dog. He doesn’t know why she went away. He still wants her to come home.”

  I want her to come home, too, Virginia’s heart mourned. But she bravely hid her deep sorrow and asked Martha to get the cookies and milk.

  CHAPTER 17

  Christmas was a very difficult time, with so many memories washing over Virginia. She remembered little Mindy’s excitement over her sleigh ride through the snow. That first Christmas tree Jonathan and Mindy had brought home. Christ? mas morning when she had been so wide-eyed upon finding her Christmas stocking with its simple toys. The bittersweet memory of her generous offer to share her baby doll with her expecting mama, since the new baby hadn’t made an appearance yet. The now-worn nativity set that she had arranged and rearranged with so much tenderness and pleasure. The kitchen table where the tiny tot had rolled—and eaten—cookie dough meant for the oven pans. Her squeal of delight—to everyone’s amusement—when at her first Christmas program she had pointed to the manger and baby for which the Magi were searching and called out excitedly, “There he is. Right there.”

  Then there were the later years as Mindy had grown and the other babies had joined the family. The shared excitement of Christmas morning. The many times she had read the Christmas story to her younger sisters and James. The small crew of youngsters tramping through the snow with Jonathan to get another tree for the corner of the living room, bundled so warmly they could scarcely move, yet calling to one another in their eagerness.

  Now Christmas must be celebrated again—but without her.

  The children singing the Christmas carols at the annual Sunday school program, without Mindy in her usual spot between the two Harding girls, brought fresh tears to Virginia’s eyes. Everywhere she turned there were memories of Mindy. But what if we had no memories of Mindy at all? she thought. We are far richer for having them, painful as her absence from us is, she decided.

  What kind of Christmas will she be having? Virginia’s silent contemplation continued. Will her thoughts be on home? Virginia ached for some contact. To send a gift. Some of the child’s favorite cookies. Her love. But she had no address. No way to get in touch, except through the lawyer. And she and Jonathan were nearly sure that would be a dead end.

  Virginia fought to maintain the real meaning of Christmas. Both for her family and for herself. She was comforted to know that Mindy had the Christ of Christmas. Jenny could not take that from her.

  Jonathan and Virginia did write to Reverend Black, briefly explaining the situation. His return letter indicated his delight to have this contact again after so many years. He had already made some inquiries as to the possible whereabouts of Jenny’s apartment. He had not discovered any leads yet, but he would continue the search and would let them know immediately if he found Jenny and Mindy.

  Please, dear Lord, help Reverend Black, Virginia prayed quietly as she held his letter close, taking some comfort from the warm words and his obvious care and concern.

  “Slate will be going home,” Jonathan said to Virginia as he sat on the edge of the bed before sliding under the covers.

  Oh, no—not Slate was Virginia’s first thought. Surely we won’t lose him, too.

  “He had a letter from his folks, and they
are settling the estate of his grandfather. They’d like him home for a visit,” Jonathan explained.

  “Just a visit?”

  Jonathan looked up. He had heard the tremble in her voice. “Just a visit. He plans to be back.”

  “How long will he be gone?” she asked, relieved.

  “A couple of months at the most.”

  “The children will miss him.”

  “He’s hoping to pick up a few more horses when he’s there. We need to get some new blood in the line. He’s going to watch for a stallion.”

  Virginia knew Jonathan had hoped to bring in a new stallion earlier, but with the legal debts hanging over them, it had not been possible.

  “He wants to get away soon so he can be back in time for the spring sale.”

  “So when will he leave?”

  “Next Monday.”

  Virginia thought that sounded awfully soon.

  “I was wondering just what we might send along—to the folks,” Jonathan said reflectively. “ To let them know we’re thinking of them.”

  Virginia’s head began to spin with ideas. What could they send? “I’ll give it some thought,” she promised.

  “Good.” He seemed ready for sleep with that bit of news off his mind. He leaned over to kiss Virginia and said his good-night. Soon she heard the soft breathing that announced he was in slumberland. But Virginia did not join him there very soon. Her mind was much too busy thinking of what she might include in a parcel to Jonathan’s family.

  Slate left as planned with Virginia’s hastily prepared parcel of canned items from her garden and homemade jams held carefully under one arm. He kissed each member of the family good-bye and promised he would be back soon. That was not good enough for the young James, who insisted he should go along. He whimpered long after the train had disappeared around the bend.

  “Our table is getting littler and littler,” Martha remarked as she set out the plates for supper. “I hope nobody else goes away.”

  I hope so, too, thought Virginia. It would be strange not to have Slate’s good-natured teasing of the children, or his discussions of the stock and related subjects with Jonathan at their supper table.