A Bridge Named Susan

by Sharon Chase Hoseley

  Lost in my musing, I suddenly became aware I wasn’t singing. I glanced around, turned to the right page, and began to sing. It wasn’t until the last song that my mind came completely back to the present. “I have washed my robes in the cleansing fountain, I am a child of God.”

  Chapter 16

  Freedom!

  “Yesterday,” began preacher Gray, “we talked about how sin came. How we are the children of sin because of Eve and Adam disobeying God in the Garden of Eden. It was their choice. They chose to do the wrong thing. After they were driven out of the beautiful garden, they had children. Their first two were boys. The oldest boy demonstrated an evil heart. Cain became jealous and angry at his younger brother, Abel. He let it control him and he killed Abel and left him in the field. Where did the sin in his heart come from? From his parents’ disobedience …”

  Preacher Gray continued his review, and my mind was saying, Yes, I get jealous too. I’ve never told anyone. Mama wouldn’t think I was a good girl if she knew how jealous I was of all the money they spend on Johnny. Whatever Johnny wants, Johnny gets: a bicycle, a banjo, store-bought ice skates instead of Papa’s homemade ones, the Model A Ford, store-bought clothes, an accordion, a fancy cane. I could go on and on. Johnny runs away on some special errand every time he’s asked to do any work. Besides all that, he went to high school in Reubens while I had to stay home and learn to be a housewife. You bet I’m jealous. As long as I hadn’t killed him, it surely wasn’t a sin—although at times I wished I could.

  There are lots of ways people do the wrong thing: killing, stealing, lying, cheating. The list is in the Ten Commandments I memorized in school. I’d followed them. I didn’t break them. I wanted to be a good girl, and God said to keep them. I didn’t worship an idol; I didn’t even own one. Our family worshiped on Sunday; not always in church because we didn’t have one. I never, ever took God’s name in vain. Nice girls don’t swear. I always did what Mama and Papa told me to do. The last one? Well, I may have coveted just a little, but not enough that I would steal.

  “Proverbs chapter twenty-three and verse seven,” announced preacher Gray. It brought me out of my recollection and back to the schoolhouse. “A simple short thought,” he said. “Let’s read it together.”

  “For as he thinks in his heart, so is he,” everyone intoned.

  What? No, no, no. That can’t be true! My mind was denying. No one knows. I’ve never told anyone. It’s my secret!

  Preacher Gray continued, “You see, God knows our heart. He knows our thoughts. He understands we’re sinners. He loves us anyway and wants you and me to be His child—a child of God. But we can’t be His child with sin in our hearts. The devil deceives us. Whispers ‘You’re not so bad. You’ve never done anything that’s hurt someone. You try to be good and do all the right things.’” It was like the preacher was reading my thoughts. Had I been talking out loud? I glanced quickly around, but no one was looking at me.

  “All you have to do is believe in Jesus. Admit you’re a sinner, ask Him to forgive your sins and cleanse you from all unrighteousness.”

  Mr. Hollingsworth began to sing, “Will you come to Jesus? He is calling …”

  Verse after verse, they sang for a half hour. People went forward and knelt at the old school bench in front. People cried and called out to God. People asked forgiveness and gave their hearts to Jesus. There was power in the room, like God had a string attached pulling us toward Him. I couldn’t summon the courage to go forward. I’d always been a private person. Maybe it’s pride, maybe it’s shyness. I closed my eyes, shut my ears to the music and crying, and talked to God while sitting on my own hard bench. God, I’ve tried to be good. I’ve followed all your laws. I still sin. My thoughts are mean and wicked, and I can’t control them. Forgive me. Make me your child. With that simple prayer, I felt a weight lift, a peace enter, and a new joy I never felt before. I knew Jesus’ spirit lived in me. I was free!

  Chapter 17

  The Storm

  The change may not have been too evident, but I was free and happy for the first time. My attitude toward Johnny and Mama changed. I loved them with my entire being. Maybe this was what would build a bridge between Mama and me? Is this the miracle I’ve been waiting for? She didn’t change. She was still curt and abrupt. There was no conversation, just orders and I was expected to do as I was told without compliments or praise. Johnny was still selfish, mean, and said hurtful things. The change was the song inside of me, “I am a child of God!” He loved me and that’s all that mattered.

  The meetings lasted another four days. I soaked up all I could about what this change meant and what it looked like in real life. I floated on a cloud. I was going to be with God forever. His promise was rooted in my heart!

  Edna was in school, and Johnny went off looking for jobs or courting some girl. That left me home with Mama and Papa to do winter chores and keep the house clean. It gave me time to ask questions. Mama didn’t like questions, but Papa was always up to telling stories that held the answers. I also trudged across the snow to Grandma and Grandpa Kole’s, helping them around the house and bombarding them with questions.

  Papa’s younger brother, Jim, married a lady named Grace Chase. She came from Clearwater, a small town about a day’s buggy ride from us. They, along with their son, Boyd and daughter, Belledene, lived on Grandma and Grandpa Kole’s original homestead about two miles from us. I often visited them. Grace had a strong faith like Grandma and Grandpa Kole. We talked about my hard questions. Aunt Grace told me, “Cast your cares on Him because He cares for you.” Fear still visited the corners of my mind and tried to bring back failure and rejection.

  The next two years were personally uneventful, except for one tragic day. Mama sent me to Uncle Jim and Aunt Grace’s with a cake she’d baked for their anniversary. I stayed a while and played with my little cousins. We were sitting by the front window eating popcorn when suddenly Belledene cried, “Look! A funny cloud.”

  Indeed, it was a funny-looking cloud. It was shaped like a cone they put ice cream in at the Fourth of July picnic, except this was black and moving around. “I’ve never seen one like that before,” I commented. “Let’s go find your mama.” Just then, Aunt Grace came blowing in the door; her hair stood straight up from the wind.

  “Come! We’ve got to go to the root cellar!” she called. The urgency in her voice didn’t leave any room for questions. We followed her quickly. I don’t remember how long we stayed there.

  She called it a tornado. “They sometimes dip down and touch the ground,” she explained. “When it does, it’s mighty destructive.”

  “Are we safe in here?” I was very nervous. Other than thunder and lightning, I’d never seen weather that I had to be afraid of.

  “We’re safe, but we need to pray for the people in the fields and the ones below the cloud.” She prayed. Belledene, Boyd, and I huddled together, shaking in the dark cellar.

  The wind outside quieted. We climbed out to take a peek. Things were blown over, but the buildings were still standing. Aunt Grace insisted I stay longer. “It wouldn’t be good if you was on the road and the cloud decided to return.” After an hour I started home.

  When I arrived, Mama was as white as a sheet hanging on the line. She ran toward me with outstretched arms and gave me a big hug. Seventeen years old and it was the first time my mama had hugged me! “Thank God, you’re safe,” she said. Then as if nothing had happened, she returned to the kitchen to finish supper. I stood there thinking, “How nice that greeting felt.” The warmth of expressed love covered me from top to bottom. I didn’t want to move and break the spell.

  Papa arrived about two hours later. Mama repeated the hug and then, as if embarrassed by her show of affection, she backed away, looking at Papa’s grim face. “Bad news,” he shook his head. “The Sheldons are gone.”

  “What?” Mama and I gasped at the same time. “They’ve only been here
nine months,” Mama cried. “What happened?”

  Papa was in town when the cloud hit. “Sheldons’ neighbors down in the valley rode to town to get help. They heard an explosion and saw things flying through the air as they headed for their root cellar. When it got quiet, they ran up the hill. Nothin’ was left of the Sheldons’ house except the basement with an untouched box of goose feathers in the corner. They searched the farm. Found Albert in the manure pile behind the barn and Rachel hanging from a tree. Neither survived. There was straw driven clean through tree limbs and trunks. Boards were everywhere like the house exploded from the inside out. The barn and animals were hurt at all.”

  What kind of horrible storm was this? God, how could you allow such a thing? Inside, I began to scream at God. I was fearful. I was angry. I was resentful. I was confused.

  “Odd thing,” Papa was saying, “they moved out here from Kansas to get away from twisters. Seems like that scripture in Ecclesiastes is proven true—‘It’s appointed unto man once to die.’ Almost like God was saying you can run, but you can’t get away from me.”

  For months, people were finding pieces of the house, furniture, and clothes for miles around. I still questioned God. I found the courage one day to ask Grandma Kole how God could allow such a thing to happen. Her loving grandma arms wrapped around me as she said, “Susan, we don’t know. God’s the one who knows everything. He sees the future, He knows the past. Just like the Bible says, it’s a broken world with hard things in it. We can’t fix it. We can only trust God to make us stronger so we can live through the storms.”

  I knew Grandma was right. She’d lived in hard times beyond her control. Her faith was a strong example. She prayed with me as I asked God to forgive me for doubting Him. Then we sang, “This world is not my home, I’m just a passin’ through. My treasures are laid up somewhere beyond the blue.” My goal was heaven. Whatever I had to live through here wasn’t important. He was making a place for me to live forever. It was going to be perfect.

  Chapter 18

  It Happened One Summer

  Johnny hated farming. He kept looking for other work—easy, quick moneymakers. He tried selling McNess. The folks gave him money for the initial stock of drink mixes, pie fillings, and spices. He hadn’t sold the entire first supply before he was off on another adventure. He’d rather party than work. He bought a motorcycle with the McNess profits and never returned the initial investment. Time after time, he borrowed money from Mama and Papa for a new scheme. It drained the resources Papa needed to replant and run the farm. I could sense the disappointment of my folks who couldn’t say no to their only son. I vowed I would never be that kind of burden to them.

  When I turned eighteen, Mama gave me a lecture. “Susan, you’re more than a woman now. Don’t be old like me when you have children. It’s too hard. Get to thinking about marriage. There are young men available around here now, but if you wait too long, they’ll all be married and you’ll have to take some man no one else wanted.”

  Oh. That had never occurred to me. I knew all the young men around here and not a single one of them would I want to spend the rest of my life with—especially Walt. What was I going to do? I’d have to pray about this.

  The next morning I had a thought. Uncle Jim had found Aunt Grace in another town. Maybe that’s what I should do, look for someone that lived some other place. I liked Aunt Grace a lot. There had to be marriageable men out there, too.

  Shortly before my eighteenth birthday, Mama sent me to Aunt Grace’s with some strawberries from the day’s picking. When I arrived, a strange car sat in front of the house. Cars were still rare on the Camas Prairie, but were accepted as a means of travel. Even Mama allowed herself a ride in Papa and Johnny’s. Can you believe she even rode on Johnny’s motorcycle? This was the lady that made us come in when she heard a car a half mile away! She was so hard to understand sometimes.

  No one ever knocked in those days, and family always used the kitchen door. “Hello,” I called to the voices coming from the living room. “I brought some strawberries.”

  “Come on in,” Grace invited. “Got someone I want you to meet.”

  As I rounded the corner from the kitchen, my breath was taken away by a young man sitting across from Aunt Grace. “Susan, this is my brother, Tom. He’s come to help on the farm this summer. He’ll be staying a few months.”

  “I’m pleased to meet you, Tom,” I responded. “I like your sister. Nice to have you visiting or should I say working here?”

  Tom stood. He was very tall. I had to look up to notice his hazel eyes that sparkled under dark eyebrows and wavy black hair. Good looking, I thought. Polite. Stood when he was introduced. “Oh, I’m sorry what did you say?” I suddenly realized he’d been talking.

  “It’s good to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you from my sister. She says you’re a good cook and can clean a house faster than a tornado.”

  I quickly looked at Aunt Grace who just shrugged her shoulders and said, “It’s just an expression, Susan.” My impression of a tornado was not positive after the one that hit our community just a year ago. My mind flashed back to that awful day of destruction.

  “Did I say something wrong?” Tom asked.

  “Tornados aren’t too well liked around here. We had one a year ago that killed a young couple,” I replied.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to stir up bad memories.”

  I sat and visited. Grace excused herself to start supper. Left alone, it was a bit awkward. What should I ask? What do I tell a young man I’ve just met? I was smitten with those golden eyes and the rugged jaw. He talked about farming, how he liked to feel the dirt and smell of things growing. He hoped to have a farm of his own someday. I learned he was my senior by five years. Wouldn’t Avis be amazed? He worked most of the time on his father’s and neighbors’ farms at Clearwater, but he wanted to strike out on his own. He had no definite plans, except to go to Lewiston where he could get on at the new mill.

  It was getting late, and I needed to get home before supper. I excused myself with, “Mama will be needing help with supper. I’d better go.”

  “Well, can’t have a pretty lady walking home by herself,” Tom exclaimed. “Do you mind if I walk you home?”

  What could I say? So he walked me home that day, the next day, and the next, and many days after that.

  He came to our farm to help with harvest when the threshing machine arrived. Just like before, all farmers came to gather the grain, sew bags, and haul it into town. Grace came to help Mama in the kitchen, and they kept me busy taking water out to the field for the workers. I had no idea there was a plan going on between them. I was excited to be in the field so I could see Tom. There was something about him that made my heart do flip-flops.

  At the end of August, we were working Uncle Jim’s farm. Again, I was the chosen water carrier who also rang the dinner bell, calling them at one o’clock to come eat. I knew Tom was tired. I could tell by the way he walked. When he saw me, his face would light up with a smile; he’d tip his hat at me. I found my heart jumping. I found any excuse I could to go into the field.

  Two more fields and harvest was finished. There had been several days at other farms when I stayed with Edna while Mama went to help. My heart ached to see Tom. “Thomas Albert,” I said to myself. “I think I could spend the rest of my life with you.” I never told anyone. I forced my mind to take over my emotions, hoping and praying no one suspected I might like this man. Looking back, I doubt very much if I covered it up.

  Life slowed with harvest winding down. Each farmer retreated to his own place, analyzing crop figures, cleaning equipment, and making sure enough seed was saved for the spring planting.

  The twelfth of September, Tom was walking me home from Aunt Grace and Uncle Jim’s when he stopped abruptly. I had walked on a few steps before I realized he wasn’t beside me. I turned. “Susan,” he said as he walked up to me, �
��I think I’ve walked you home enough.” My heart sank. “Susan, I … uh … I don’t want to walk you home any more—except to walk you to our home. Will you marry me?” My heart leaped into my mouth. I was speechless. His face looked worried. I was worried because I couldn’t talk. How could this have happened in only three months?

  I found my voice. “Yes … yes … I would like to marry you, but … but you’ll have to ask Papa for his permission.” Our faces broke into wide smiles. He reached out and took my hand. Oh my, I thought, this is the first time he’s even touched me. How proper and considerate he is. He’ll be the perfect husband. I dreamed the rest of the way home about a perfect marriage, a perfect home, surrounded by perfect kids.

  We made a mad dash to my house, took a deep breath, and opened the squeaky screen door. I hurried upstairs and left Tom with Papa and Mama. I could hear the sound of his voice and Papa responding. I prayed Papa would say yes. What would I do if he said no?

  Mama knocked on my door, and her stern voice echoed in the hall. “Susan, we want to talk to you.” They don’t like him. They’re going to say no. She turned and went back down the stairs. I held my breath and followed.

  “Susan,” Papa began, “this young man says he wants to marry you and asked my permission. What do you think about that?”

  “I … I … I think it would be good.” I stuttered. I didn’t dare look at Tom. I had no idea what Papa’s answer was.

  “You haven’t known him very long. Remember, marriage is for life,” Papa reminded.

  “I know, Papa. We’ve had lots of time to talk when he’s walked me home. I think he will be a fine husband for me.” I glanced at Tom and blushed.