by Janette Oke
Yes, yes they do. I hate it—but they do. They grow old … and more precious. But we can’t stop time. We have to let them go. We have to.
Virginia’s heavy heart kept her from immediate sleep.
The next morning she decided to head for the farm. It was a Saturday, and the children were home from school. Jonathan promised to work inside so she wouldn’t have to take the children. She wanted one more time when she could visit the farm while her grandparents were still there to welcome her. One more chat around the familiar kitchen table. One more opportunity to feel the love and the warmth as she had known it for all of those years. Please, God, once more.
She cried on the way but managed to get herself under con? trol before she pulled into the driveway. She gazed at everything through new eyes. The old barn that housed the new kittens, the apple tree where she had sat and read and munched on green apples, the swing where she had played with her cousins or chatted with her grandfather. It was all so familiar—yet today so strange.
She was welcomed as she always was. With arms of love and bright faces. This time she was the one who prepared the tea and placed the cookies she had brought on one of her grandmother’s china plates. It was the first time she had noticed the little chips along the edge. Many years of service had left their mark.
“Pa said this mornin’ thet we should have a goin’-out party,” chuckled Marty from her spot at the table. “He said folks are always talkin’ ’bout comin’-out parties, so maybe we should have a goin’-out one.”
Virginia looked across at her grandfather. He was chuck? ling, too.
“I says to him, ‘An’ who’s gonna do the cookin’? Me or you?’ “ They both laughed again as though it was the funniest joke they’d heard.
“He didn’t volunteer none, so I guess this is it, huh, Pa? This is our goin’-out party.”
Virginia was relieved that her aging grandparents could face the great change in their lives in such good humor. At the same time she wished to stop them and say, Don’t you know what this means? Don’t you understand that everything will be different—and there’s no going back?
But of course they knew. They knew far more about life than she. They had lived through the tough times and the good times. They knew all about changes.
She took her seat at the table and reached for the frail, soft hands on either side of her and listened once again while her grandfather prayed. She had no cause to worry about a man who could pray like that—or the woman who sat across the table, amening every petition to the Lord. They might be weak of body—but, oh my, they were so strong in faith. Virginia chastised herself for her gloomy thoughts and decided to enjoy this last visit.
“Mama is excited,” she heard herself saying.
Her grandmother’s eyes sparkled. “Is rather exciting. I says to Pa, ‘Jest think, the next move we git to make might be to glory.’ I’m lookin’ right forward to thet. These old bones, all they know to do anymore is to ache.”
Virginia looked up at her grandfather, who was nodding his agreement. “No wooden legs up there,” he said, and his eyes were shining with unshed tears.
After all her time of denial—of fighting—of resisting this moment of change, suddenly Virginia was able to nod her head in understanding and acceptance. In her heart, because of her love, she released them to God.
It was an absolutely beautiful day. The sun shone down as though smiling on the world, warm fingers caressing childish heads at play. The breeze played hopscotch. Lifting a flower head here, whispering a secret there, dancing its way through the yard. Virginia sat on the step, drinking in the day. She had just finished pegging the last of the washing to the line and now was taking a bit of a rest. Not totally because she needed it, but more because she enjoyed it. Before her the children played. Martha busily scolded James for some childish offense. Olivia sang a little tune she had learned in Sunday school as she scooped sand into a red pail that had lost both its color and smooth sides over the years of play. Nearby Mindy was brushing the silky sides of Buttercup, who had just taken her for a ride. Murphy lay on the ground, pretending to be finding nourishment in a well-chewed bone. In the distance Virginia could hear the faint thump-thump of hammers as Jonathan and Slate busily worked on the new house.
Virginia sighed. For the moment her world seemed perfect. Mindy took Buttercup to the corral and slipped off her bridle. The horse flicked her tail and moved off but turned to look at the girl as though reluctant to leave her. “Go on,” Virginia heard her say. “Go join the others.”
“James, don’t put dirt on Murphy,” Olivia’s voice cut into the silence, and she set to work awkwardly brushing at the dog’s coat. Murphy just turned, rolled his eyes, then went back to chewing on his bone.
Mindy crossed to where Virginia sat and lowered herself beside her. “Tired, Mama?”
Virginia put out a hand and brushed back Mindy’s hair. “Not really,” she smiled. “Just sitting … enjoying. Everything is so … so just right.”
Mindy looked around as though only now noticing the sunshine and the playing children and the contented horses feeding in the corral beyond.
She turned again to Virginia and nodded her agreement that everything was perfect. “I was afraid that you were tired … because of the baby.”
Virginia was tired because of the baby. The due date was getting near. It was hard to move about and keep up to her usual tasks.
“A little,” she admitted. “But it’s worth it.”
Mindy smiled, seeming to understand. “Do you know what?” she said after a moment of silence. “I’m getting kind of excited. About the baby, I mean. It’s going to be fun to … to find out who it is and if it’ll be like Martha or Olivia or James.”
“Maybe this one will be different—than any of them.”
“That would be fun, too.”
Virginia reached out a hand and drew Mindy up against her side. “I’ve been thinking—about the baby. We need to pick a name. I was thinking … if it’s a girl … I’d like to call her Jenny. What do you think?”
Mindy’s eyes began to shine. She nodded her head. But she did not speak.
Virginia pulled her closer and the girl’s hand reached out until it rested on the growing baby. Virginia knew her old? est child had already claimed this new little one—whoever it turned out to be, as an important and already loved member of the family. Her family.
EPILOGUE
We have traveled for many years with the Davis family, sharing the joys and the heartaches, watching the family grow—and diminish. The steadfast faith that they have shared is an echo of my faith testimony. God can be trusted.
And now, in response to requests from many readers, “Please don’t let Clark and Marty die,” we must leave them in the hands of God, as we must do with our own families. For life moves on. Years bring change and the inevitable must eventually happen.
Some of life’s lessons are not easy. It helps to know that God has a plan—for our good and His glory—and if we are obedient we can walk the way, however long or short, rocky or flower-strewn, confident that He is with us.
It also helps to know that we can entrust our family members to Him, as well. Through each generation, each individual must discover a personal faith for himself or herself. But that faith is available—it is within reach. As parents and grand? parents, we must try to instill in them—our followers—a desire to reach out, to accept, what God is so anxious to impart—salvation through Jesus Christ, our Guide and Comforter for whatever life holds.
Meet Kim Vogel Sawyer. Historical Fiction in the Tradition of Janette Oke.
* * *
Orphaned and separated from her siblings, eight-year old Maelle vows she will reunite with them one day. Seventeen years later, time has washed away her hope… and memories. What are Mattie and Molly doing now? Will she ever see her brother and sister again?
My Heart Remembers
* * *
When money gets tight, Harley takes a job with
the Works Progress Administration away from home. But when the promised money never arrives, his wife fears Harley may be gone for good. Is the distance between them measured by more than miles?
Where Willows Grow
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After losing her family to illness, Summer Steadman is hired by a Mennonite farmer to teach his young son. But widower Peter Ollenburger soon discovers that helping this outsider may have troublesome consequences.
Waiting for Summer’s Return