by Al Lacy
Pastor Dan Chase and his wife, Miriam, were there, too. The pastor was high at the top of the sharply-pitched roof, helping Jack Lennox finish nailing trim along the peak.
Jack Lennox’s wife, Lucinda, was Hannah Cooper’s closest friend. They were the same age, and of much the same temperament. They often spent time together sewing, making fancy things for their houses, and just enjoying each others company. They also prayed and studied the Bible together.
In the kitchen, Hannah was working at one end of the cupboard with Lucinda and Miriam Chase, cutting vegetables. The other seven women were busily working in twos and threes, each little group in its own conversation.
“I sure don’t envy those poor women,” Miriam said. “I’ve read a lot about the wagon trains. I can understand why some of the families turn around and come back before they even get two or three days out. It’s just too hard for those wives and mothers to cope with crying babies, cranky children, weary, footsore husbands, the Indians, living in a wagon, cooking over a campfire, sleeping on the ground, and on and on…”
“Yes,” Lucinda said, “and for half a year or so.”
“And not to mention the heat and the dust,” Miriam added, “plus trying to launder clothes for the family in some half-dried-up stream, or in a buffalo wash where the water is filthy.”
Lucinda noticed Hannah’s quietness and eyed her cautiously. “Hannah, Solomon hasn’t been pressing you again about packing up and going west, has he?”
Hannah paused after cutting an onion in half. “Well, honey, the two of us have talked about it some more. But he’s not pressing me. Solomon would never try to force such a thing on me. If such a decision were ever made, it would be our decision.”
Miriam frowned. “But the two of you are considering it, Hannah?”
Hannah attempted a noncommittal tone. “Well, we’ve been discussing it, yes. But we’ve also been praying about it. We’re in total agreement that—”
“Mama!” B. J. burst into the kitchen, holding up his left hand. “I’ve got a splinter!”
The eight-year-old had everyone’s attention as Hannah took hold of his hand, focusing on the dirty forefinger that held a thin, needle-like piece of wood. It was angled in for about an inch, and blood was welling around it.
While B. J. gritted his teeth, Hannah pulled him over to a chair. “Sit down here, son. I’ll see if I can get it out.”
Helen Beatty moved in. “I have some tweezers, Hannah.”
“Let me see if I can pull it out without breaking it off. If it breaks, I’ll use the tweezers.”
Hannah grasped her son’s wrist and slowly and delicately slid out the splinter. “There! That wasn’t too bad, was it, B. J.? Helen, if you have a cloth I can use to wrap this, I’ll take him home and clean the wound.”
“I have everything you need right here,” Helen said, heading for a cabinet at the end of the kitchen.
When Hannah had finished and B. J. had gone back outside with his finger bandaged, Miriam looked at Hannah and chuckled. “I do declare, Hannah, that boy is an accident looking for a place to happen. Have we ever had a church get-together of any kind, but what B. J. didn’t scrape something or cut something or break something?”
Hannah laughed. “Not that I can remember!”
Up on the roof, Jack Lennox and the preacher had finished their task at one end and were carrying their materials toward the other.
Solomon looked at them briefly and then glanced toward the rear of the house. B. J. should have been back by now, he thought. Less than a minute later, B. J. approached, pushing the empty wheelbarrow. When Solomon saw the white bandage, he stopped sawing. “What happened, son?”
B. J. explained and told him that Mama had taken care of it.
“Well, B. J., you need to be more caref—”
Solomon’s words were cut off by the sound of a cry, accompanied by the rumble of materials bouncing off the roof. Pastor Chase, who was on the opposite end of the roof from Jack Lennox watched helplessly as Jack pitched headlong, arms flailing.
Solomon dropped his saw and limped toward the house as fast as he could, trying to get underneath the falling man and break his fall.
But Jack peeled off the edge of the roof and fell to the ground head-first before Solomon could get there. Other men on that side of the house dashed toward the spot where Solomon had dropped to his knees beside Jack.
Glenn Beatty reached Solomon first and dropped down next to him. Solomon, who was cradling Jack’s head, looked up sorrowfully. “He’s dead, Glenn.”
The other men arrived and watched the preacher coming on the run. They could already see by the way Jack’s head was bent that he had broken his neck.
The women had just come out on the porch, trying to see what had happened, when Lucinda bounded off the porch, crying, “Jack! Jack! What’s happened to him?”
Pastor Chase rose to his feet and intercepted Lucinda, gripping her arms. “You don’t want to see him,” he said. “He’s dead, Lucinda. The fall broke his neck.”
The knot of men blocked Lucinda’s view, and she stared at them with a wild look and screamed, “No-o! Jack!” and broke free. She fell to her knees beside her husband and wrapped her arms around him.
Hannah knelt down and gripped her friend’s shoulders. Lucinda’s wails filled the air as the other women ushered the children inside the house. Miriam Chase stood next to her husband, looking on in shock.
“Solomon…Hannah…,” the pastor said, “as soon as she calms down, we need to take her home. Two of the men have gone for the undertaker.”
“I’ll go home and stay with her,” Hannah said.
“Miriam and I will go, too, and tell the boys.”
“We can trade off staying with her until the shock is over,” Helen Beatty volunteered. “I’m sure there are plenty of ladies in the church who will be glad to take a turn.”
On Sunday morning, Lucinda Lennox and her sons sat with the Coopers. Hannah had planned to stay with Lucinda and the boys all day Sunday, not expecting that Lucinda would feel like attending church services. But Lucinda said she wanted to be in church on the Lord’s day.
Hannah’s parents, Ben and Esther Singleton, sat in the same pew with Chris and B. J. on one side of them, and Mary Beth and Patty Ruth on the other.
When the final hymn had been sung, Pastor Chase walked to the pulpit and looked around at the somber faces of the congregation, then said, “All of us have been shocked to have one of our finest men taken from us. As I’m sure most of you have heard, I was on the roof with Jack Lennox yesterday when he fell.
“Miriam and I have spent much time with dear Lucinda and her sons since yesterday morning, and have prayed and read Scripture with them. Mrs. Cooper stayed the night with them, and also spent much time in prayer and the Word.
“Now, those of you who have your Bibles, turn to the Book of Job, chapter fourteen.”
The sound of fluttering pages filled the place.
“First,” Chase said, “look at verses one and two. Man that is born of a woman is of few days, and full of trouble.’ You will note that at best our time on this earth is spoken of here as few days. A full lifetime on this earth is but a blink of God’s eye. Let’s read on.
“Of man, it says, ‘He cometh forth like a flower, and is cut down: he fleeth also as a shadow, and continueth not.’ I believe you can see here the brevity of human life underscored for our minds by the hand of our Creator. This is why Moses said to God in Psalm 90, ‘So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.’
“Now, look at Job 14:5. Scripture says, ‘Seeing his days are determined, the number of his months are with thee, thou hast appointed his bounds that he cannot pass…’
“When the sun came up yesterday morning, our brother Jack Lennox did not know it, but it was the Lord’s appointed day to take him home to heaven. We don’t understand God’s ways, nor are we expected to. All He asks of us is that we trust Him… trust that He doesn’t mak
e mistakes, and that He knows what He is doing.
“Let us not weep for Jack Lennox, for he is now in the presence of the One who went to the cross for him. Let us weep for ourselves, for we are still in this sin-cursed world of heartaches, tears, trials, and testings. And to Lucinda and the boys, I say, don’t wish him back. He’s had a glimpse of Jesus’ bright face. This world would be too dark for him now.
“If you are sitting within the sound of my voice and cannot give testimony that you are a born-again, blood-washed child of God, then you have no way of knowing but what this very day is your last to settle this most important issue. Don’t trifle with Almighty God, and don’t trifle with your feeble hold on life.”
When the message was finished, and the invitation was given, several people responded by coming down the aisle to receive Christ, and many Christians came to the altar to dedicate their lives afresh to the Lord.
Many of the women had signed up to spend a night with Lucinda and the boys, but Hannah would stay with them through Tuesday—the day of the funeral.
That night, after Lucinda had prayed with her boys and tucked them in bed, she came to the kitchen, where Hannah was pouring two cups of hot tea.
She placed the teapot on the stove and turned around to find her friend looking at her with tears streaming down her cheeks. Lucinda wrapped her arms around her friend and sobbed. “Oh, Hannah, I miss him so much! How am I ever going to make it without Jack? My heart hurts so much!”
Hannah held her tight for a long moment, then said softly, “Honey, I want you to sit down and drink some hot tea. It’ll make you feel better. And I have something I want to show you from God’s Word.”
Hannah opened her Bible and said, “Honey, I’ve read this verse to you for the past three nights. I want to read it to you again. God’s Word says that we can have His perfect peace, and I’m praying that He will make it real to you. Jesus says, ‘My peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you.’ The peace this world gives is a false peace. It isn’t real, and it doesn’t last. But the peace Jesus gives is real and it doesn’t fade away. And He follows that truth with, ‘Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.’ Real peace is found only in Him because it is His own peace.”
Tears were spilling down Lucinda’s cheeks now, and her face began to mirror the truth Hannah spoke of. “Then I must claim that peace right now,” she said.
Hannah rejoiced as Lucinda prayed for that peace and her heart was flooded with it. Though she still grieved over Jack’s death and missed him terribly, she had the “peace that passes all understanding.”
Lucinda squeezed Hannah’s hand and said, “Honey, you’ll never know what your friendship means to me, nor how very much you have helped me in these days since the Lord took Jack home. I love you for being my friend. But now I want you to go home to your family. They miss you and they need you.”
Hannah looked at her friend in surprise. “But… well, I’ll stay the night, so if you need me—”
“No. I want you to go home. I’ll be just fine. The Lord is so close to me, it’s as if He’s almost bodily in this room, Hannah. Please. Your family needs you. I’ll hitch up the wagon and take you home.”
Hannah smiled radiantly and said, “It’s only a little way. I can walk. There’s no need to go to all the trouble of hitching up the team.”
Hannah quickly packed her things and stepped out onto the front porch. She embraced Lucinda once more and moved out into the moonlight.
Lucinda stood tall and watched until her best friend passed from view, then went inside and quietly closed the door.
CHAPTER SIX
A chill came on the night breeze, a reminder that winter had not been gone long, as Hannah walked the dusty road toward home. She pulled her shawl tighter and picked up her pace.
As she walked Hannah had a private praise service within her own heart. “Thank You, Lord, for what You did for Lucinda tonight. It was so wonderful to see the tranquil look that came over her face when You put Your peace in her heart.”
She sniffed, and wiped her tears. “Thank You, Lord Jesus, that Your Word is true, and when applied by faith it will never fail to meet Your child’s needs. I love You. Thank You for being so good to Your children.”
The Missouri countryside was aglow with a soft silver light from the clear-edged moon. Soon Hannah could see her house as it nestled under the elms near the road. Smoke was lifting skyward. Solomon had built a fire to take the night chill off the house, she thought. Soft orange light came from only the downstairs windows, so the children were already in their beds.
An owl hooted as Hannah approached the house. Through the window, she saw Solomon lay down his Bible and leave his chair. He had heard her footsteps.
The door came open and he was silhouetted against the brightness inside. “Sweetheart! I didn’t expect you home tonight.”
Hannah smiled and raised up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “I didn’t expect it, either, but after Lucinda and I spent some time in the Word, the Lord filled her heart with His perfect peace, and she sent me home.”
“Well, praise the Lord! I’m glad the Lord used you to help her, and I’m glad to have you home. This house is like a mausoleum when the kids are asleep and you’re not here.”
She smiled to herself and set down her overnight bag. “Put on your light jacket, Sol, and come out on the porch with me. It’s a bit cool, but it’s such a beautiful night.”
Solomon hurried to the hall closet, saying over his shoulder, “When the most beautiful woman in the world asks me to go outside in the moonlight with her, I’m not going to pass up the opportunity!”
Hannah felt a warmth all through her as her love for him stirred afresh. They stepped to the railing, and Solomon slid his arms around her and bent to kiss her neck. Hannah reached back and stroked his cheek. “I love you, Solomon Cooper,” she said.
He captured her hand and kissed it, saying, “And I love you, Hannah Cooper.”
Neither one spoke for several minutes until Hannah said, “I’m so glad for Lucinda, Sol. You should have seen her face when the Lord almost literally poured that peace into her heart.”
“Must be a horrible thing to lose your mate…especially for a woman to lose her husband. Suddenly the responsibility to provide for the household is on her shoulders.”
“Yes. Lucinda has peace about that, too.”
“I know it’s the Lord who gives the comfort and peace, honey,” Solomon said, tightening his hold on her, “but He used you to guide her to the place where she could find it.”
“I’m glad I could do it.”
Solomon sighed, then said softly, “One of the million things that I adore about you, sweetheart, is the lovingkindness and compassion you have for others.”
“I’m glad you see me that way, darling,” she said.
Solomon kissed her forehead, then the tip of her nose, then her lips.
Soon the Coopers were in their moonlit bedroom, under the covers. They held hands as Solomon prayed. All was quiet when the prayer was finished, and they lay there, savoring each other’s presence.
After a while, Solomon said, “Honey, one concern I have about going west is that there might not be a good Bible-believing church where we decide to settle.”
“I’ve thought about that ever since the subject of a move came up,” Hannah said. “I was waiting for you to mention it.”
“It isn’t that we can’t have family altar and study the Bible together, but we need a good church to go to. We need the preaching of a real man of God, and the fellowship of other Christians.”
“I agree,” Hannah said. “We must take this into serious consideration.”
“Well, God won’t lead us wrong, honey. We’ll just trust Him to lead us concerning a church, too.”
Daylight came with a brilliant sun rising in a cloudless sky. After Hannah had sent her husband off to the store and her three older children to school, she went to work washing clothes behind th
e house. Patty Ruth was “helping” her, with Ulysses lying close by on the back porch.
A fire burned beneath the cast iron pot, heating additional water, while Hannah scrubbed clothes on a washboard partially immersed in a large galvanized tub. It was Patty Ruth’s job to stir the clothes with the end of a broom handle in a second galvanized tub of cool water used for rinsing.
When all the clothes were washed and rinsed, Patty Ruth carried the clothing to her mother, and Hannah hung them on the line.
As Hannah was pinning up the last piece, she heard Patty Ruth’s excited voice say, “Grandma! Grandpa!”
Ben Singleton would turn seventy on his next birthday, and Esther would be sixty-nine. Ben had a thick head of white hair beneath his wide-brimmed hat, and a round, cheerful face to match his portly body. He had been an astute businessman in Kansas City, and had retired financially well off.
Hannah, his only child, had been the apple of his eye since the day she was born. When his grandchildren came along, each one found a special place in his heart.
Esther Singleton had been slender until she reached her mid-sixties, then had put on a little extra weight. Anyone could see that as a younger woman she had been a beauty. And she still was in a soft, faded way. She was tender of heart, and she adored Hannah, Solomon, and her grandchildren.
Hannah embraced them both, puzzled by the looks on their faces. “Mother…Daddy…you look upset. Is there something wrong?”
“We’d like to talk to you, honey,” Ben said.
“Well, certainly. Let’s go in the house.”
It took Hannah only seconds to realize that word had reached her parents about them.
As they reached the back porch, Hannah said, “Patty Ruth, you stay out here and play with Ulysses while I talk to Grandma and Grandpa.”
“All right, Mama.”
Hannah led her parents into the kitchen. “Sit down here at the table, Mother…Daddy. Would you like some coffee or tea? I can start a fire in a jiffy, and—”
“That won’t be necessary, Hannah,” her father said, hanging his hat on a wall peg. “We just want to talk to you.”