My Valentine

by Tracie Peterson

  For the first time that evening, he smiled. He thought of how he’d arranged for his valentine to be delivered that afternoon and wondered what Darlene thought of the impulsive and rather brazen gesture. Suddenly he felt warmer. Just the thought of her made him push aside the discomforts of the night. There would be much to answer for tomorrow. His aunt would be unforgiving for his rude escape. But he was much more concerned with how Darlene would react to his card.

  His father’s warning words came back to haunt him and Pierce was suddenly filled with an uneasiness born of knowing the truth. Darlene was not of his faith and she would reject everything about his Christian beliefs, just as he would reject her disbelief in Christ. Unless God somehow persuaded Darlene to open her heart to the truth of who Jesus really was, further consideration of her could only lead to heartache. But Pierce knew that in many ways it was too late. He was rapidly losing his heart to Darlene, and the thought of rejecting his feelings for her was more than he wanted to deal with.

  “She’s a good woman, Lord,” he prayed aloud in the privacy of the carriage. “She’s responsible and considerate, and she loves her father and respects his wishes. She’s beautiful, although I don’t think she knows it, and I admire her greatly. Surely there’s some place for her in my life. Surely there is some way to share with her the Gospel of Christ.” But even as Pierce prayed, he knew his words were born out of self-desire.

  Chapter 7

  And he shall be for a sanctuary; but for a stone ofstumbling and for a rock of offence to both the houses of Israel,for a gin and for a snare to the inhabitants of Jerusalem.

  Isaiah 8:14

  Darlene looked apprehensively at the envelope in her hands. It had arrived during the Sabbath and because she knew it was nothing in regards to keeping the day holy, she had put it aside until Sabbath had concluded. Now, however, there was no putting off her curiosity. With breakfast concluded and her father already occupied with something in his room, Darlene sat down to the kitchen table and opened the envelope.

  The card slid out quite easily and caused Darlene to gasp. It was cream colored with gold-foil trim and a lace-edged red heart in the center. The words, My Valentine, topped the card, while at the bottom tiny Cupids held a scroll with a more personal limerick.

  My heart I do give and display,

  For this, our first Valentine’s Day.

  Let me say from the start, I will never

  depart,

  My heart from yours never will stray.

  Darlene stared at the card for several moments before turning it over. There was no other word, no signature, nothing at all to indicate who had sent it. But Darlene was already certain who had sent it. There was only one possible person. Pierce Blackwell!

  After the initial shock wore off, Darlene began to smile. She fingered the lacy heart and wondered if Pierce had ordered this especially made for her. Perhaps it was a standard card he sent to all women, for surely there must be many fine ladies of his acquaintance. A twinge of grief struck her. Perhaps he had sent this as a way of laughing at her. Maybe it was his only means of making sport of her ignorance. She frowned and looked at the card with a more serious eye.

  Hearing her father come from his bedroom, Darlene quickly put the card back into its envelope and tucked it in her apron pocket. Glancing up, Darlene was startled to find that Abraham was not dressed in his shop clothes, but in his best suit with hat in hand.

  “Tateh?” she questioned. “You are going out?”

  Abraham seemed a bit hesitant to discuss the matter. “I am.”

  Darlene shook her head. “But I don’t understand. Is there something we need? Some errand I can help you with?”

  “No.” He placed his hat on the table and smiled. “I should talk to you about the matter, but it was not my wish to cause you grief.”

  “What grief?” Now she was getting worried.

  Abraham took a seat beside his daughter and reached out to take her hand in his. “I’m going to the Christian church today with Dennison Blackwell and his family.”

  “What!” Darlene jumped up from her seat, snatching her hand away.

  Abraham lowered his head and it was then that Darlene noticed his head was bare. The yarmulke that he had religiously worn all of his life, was absent. This was more serious than she’d imagined.

  “Tateh, I don’t understand.” Her voice betrayed her concern.

  “I know.”

  His simple statement was not enough. Darlene came back to the table and sat down. She was stunned beyond words, yet words were the only way to explain her father’s decision. He looked so sad, so old, and for the first time Darlene considered that he might die soon. Now he wanted to change religions? After a lifetime of serving God in the faith of his ancestors?

  “Why don’t you explain and I’ll try to be quiet,” she suggested.

  Abraham looked up at her. His aged face held an expression of sheer anguish. “I’ve wanted to explain for some time. I know there are rumors among our friends. I know you have had to deal with many questions.”

  It was true enough. Yesterday, after going to the synagogue with her father, Darlene had found herself surrounded by friends and neighbors, all wanting to know what was going on with her father. Still, she’d not expected such an open showing of defiance. There was no way she could hide the fact that Abraham Lewy was going to the goy’s church.

  When she said nothing, Abraham continued. “There are many questions in my mind about the Christian faith. The Israelites are the chosen people of God, but Dennison showed me scripture in the Bible that makes it hard to deny that Jesus was truly Messiah.”

  “The Christian Bible is not the Torah,” she protested.

  “True, but the Scriptures Dennison shared are from Isaiah and those Scriptures are a part of our Bible, as well.”

  “This is so confusing,” Darlene said, feeling as though the wind was being sucked from her lungs. “Are you saying to me that you believe their Jesus is the Messiah we seek?”

  “I’m saying that I see the possibilities for such a thing.”

  Very calmly, Darlene took a deep breath. “How? How can this be? You told me as a child that Jesus was merely a man. You told me the disciples who followed him took his body from the tomb and hid it away in order to support their lies of His resurrection.” Her voice raised and the stress of the situation was evident. “You told me the goyim served three Gods not one, and now you tell me that Isaiah’s words have caused you to see the possibilities of the Christian faith being right and the Jewish faith being wrong?” She felt as though she might start to cry at any moment.

  “Neshomeleh, do not fret so. You must understand that I do not consider this matter lightly. I am seeking to know the truth.”

  “But if Jesus is the Messiah, who needs Him? Still our people suffer, for hundreds of years they suffer. Even now, we are misfits, and less than human in the eyes of some.

  “If Jesus is Messiah, where is His Kingdom? Where is our deliverance?” Darlene knew the words sounded bitter, but she didn’t care.

  Abraham patted her tightly gripped hands. “I only seek the truth. My love for you is such that I would not seek to put your soul in eternal jeopardy. If there is even the slightest possibility that I am wrong, then I wish to learn the right and teach it to my children before my days are finished.

  “You see the mezuzah?” Abraham looked up to the small ornate box that graced the side of the kitchen door. “Within that box are precious words from Deuteronomy. We kiss our hands and touch the mezuzah as a representation of our love and obedience to God’s commands.”

  Darlene looked to the box with its silver scrolling and tiny window. They’d brought this particular mezuzah with them from Germany, and she knew full well it had come from her mother’s family. Others were nailed to the wall beside other doors, but this one was very special. The ritual of the mezuzah was as automatic and commonplace as breathing. She touched it reflexively whenever she entered the room and because it
was so routine, she seldom reflected on the parchment words held within.

  “On that paper God speaks, saying, ‘And these words, which I command thee this day, shall be in thine heart. And thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up.’ God has commanded me to train you, Darlene. I cannot fail you by ignoring the truth. Should my choices have been wrong, should I be too blind to see, it would be a tragedy. Would you not rather know the truth?”

  “But how can you be certain that the truth isn’t what you already believe it to be?” she questioned softly.

  Abraham gave a heavy sigh. “Because my heart is troubled. There is an emptiness inside that won’t be filled. I used to think it was because of your mother’s death. I reasoned that she was such an important part of my life, that the void would quite naturally remain until I died. But with time, I realized it was more than this. I felt a yearning that I could not explain away. When Dennison Blackwell began to speak to me of his faith, a little fire ignited inside, and I thought, ‘Ah, maybe this is my answer.’ ”

  “But Tateh, how can you be sure? You can’t give up your faith andembrace the Christian religion without absolute certainty. How will youfind that?”

  “Because I don’t have to give up my faith in order to embrace Christianity. That is the one thing I continue to come back to. Of course, the Jews believe differently about Messiah, but they still believe in Messiah. To acknowledge that Jesus of Christian salvation is also Messiah seems not so difficult a thing.”

  Darlene was floored by this and longed to ask her father a million questions, but just then a knock sounded loudly on the door downstairs.

  “That will be Dennison,” Abraham said, getting to his feet. He took up his hat and placed his arm on Darlene’s shoulder. “Do not grieve or be afraid. God will direct.” He paused for a moment. “You could come with me?”

  “No!” she exclaimed, then put her hand to her mouth to keep from saying the multitude of things that had suddenly rushed to her mind. Tears flowed from her eyes and a sob broke from her throat when Abraham bent to kiss the top of her head.

  He left her, touching the mezuzah faithfully, but this time it impacted Darlene in a way she couldn’t explain. Suddenly her world seemed completely turned upside down. This Jesus of Christian faith seemed to be at the center of all of her problems. How could she ever be reconciled to her father’s new search for truth, when all of her life the truth seemed to be clear? Now her father would have her question whether their beliefs were accurately perceived.

  Her father’s absence made the silence of the house and shop unbearable. Darlene had no idea when he might return and all she could do was busy herself with the handwork he’d given her. Hayyim was hard at work in the cutting room when she came to take up her workbasket. He looked up and smiled, but quickly lost his expression of joy and rushed to her side.

  “You’ve been crying. Vos iz mit dir?”

  She tried to shake her head, but couldn’t. “Nothing’s the matter. I’m all right.”

  “No, you’re not. You look like something truly awful has happened. Here,” he led her to a chair, “sit down and tell me what’s wrong.”

  All Darlene could remember was that Hayyim had shared information from the shop with Esther. Of course, Esther was an old woman, butting in wherever she could in order to learn whatever there was to learn. Still, Hayyim should have been more discriminating.

  “I’m fine,” she insisted. “There’s much to be done and Tateh won’t be back for several hours. He has a meeting with Mr. Blackwell.”

  “On a Sunday? I thought that rich goy went to synagogue, I mean church, on Sunday.”

  Darlene shrugged. “It is no concern of mine. . .or yours.” She narrowed her eyes at Hayyim. “You mustn’t talk about my father to other people. There are those who say you gossip like an old woman and I won’t have it, do you understand? My father is a good man and I won’t have people look down upon him because of loose, idle palaver.”

  Hayyim looked genuinely sorry for his indiscretion. “Esther has a way of getting it out of you,” he said by way of explanation. “I didn’t even realize I was talking until I was well into it. I meant no harm.”

  Darlene pitied him and for a moment she thought he might cry. “I know well Esther’s way. Just guard your mouth in the future.”

  “You know I would never hurt you, Darlene. You know that I would like to speak to your father about us.”

  “There is no ‘us,’ Hayyim. I do not wish to marry you and I will not leave Tateh.”

  “I would never ask you to leave him. I would work here as your husband and make a good life for you and your father. I would care for him in his old age and he would never have to work again.”

  Darlene smiled because she knew Hayyim was most serious in his devotion. She shook her head. “I could not take you for a husband, Hayyim.”

  “Because I am poor?” He sounded the question so pathetically.

  Darlene touched her hand to his arm. “No, because I do not love you, nor would I ever come to love you.”

  She left him at that, knowing that he would not want her to see him cry or show weakness. He was still a child in some ways, and although being orphaned by his parents and losing his brothers all to cholera had grown him up, Hayyim was not the strong, intelligent man she would hope to call husband.

  A fleeting image of Pierce Blackwell came to mind and Darlene reached into her pocket for the valentine he’d sent. She pulled it from the envelope and for a moment, remembering that Pierce’s father was the cause for her heavy heart, thought to throw it in the fire. But she couldn’t destroy it. For reasons quite beyond her ability to understand, Darlene put her work aside and went quietly to her bedroom. Going to her clothes chest, she gently lay aside her nightgowns and put the envelope safely away. Replacing the gowns, she felt a strange tugging at her heart. Pierce might be a Gentile, but he was considerate and intelligent and very handsome. It was difficult not to be persuaded by such strong visual enticements.

  Going back downstairs, Darlene picked up her sewing and began her work. There was much to consider. Her father’s words still haunted her and the questions in her mind would not be put aside. Perhaps she would go later and speak with Mr. Singer. Without a rabbi to consult, perhaps Mr. Singer could advise her. But to do so would betray her father’s actions and bring about harsh reprisals. Still, to say nothing and have no knowledge of what she should do could only cause more grief. Perhaps if she knew more, she could persuade her father to give up this foolish notion of accepting Christianity as being truth. Otherwise, this issue of Jesus as Messiah was going to be quite a barrier to overcome.

  Chapter 8

  I know that ye are Abraham’s seed; but ye seek to kill me,because my word hath no place in you.

  John 8:37

  Darlene walked bitterly into spring with a heaviness of heart that would not be dispelled. She listened to her father’s words and knew him to be quite excited about the things he was learning. There were phrases he spoke, words that meant something different than they’d ever meant before. Salvation. Redemption. The Holy Spirit. All of these frightened Darlene to the very core of her being.

  Now, with less than a week before Passover, Darlene didn’t know whetherto make preparations for a seder meal, or to just plan to spend Passover with Esther. By now, everyone knew that her father was a man torn between two religious views. He went faithfully to the synagogue on Friday evening and Saturday, but on Sunday he went to the Christian church with Dennison Blackwell. He was rapidly viewed as being both crazy and a traitor, and neither representation did him justice as far as Darlene was concerned.

  The ringing of the shop doorbells caused Darlene to jump. Nervous these days from a constant barrage of Esther’s questions, Darlene had decided that every visitor could possibly represent some form of gossip or challenge related to her father.
This time, her assessment couldn’t have been more accurate. With a look of pure disdain, Reuven Singer filled the doorway. He wore a broad-rimmed black hat, with a heavy black overcoat that fell to the floor. His long gray beard trailed down from thick, stern lips and one glance into his pale-blue eyes caused Darlene to shiver.

  “Good morning, Mr. Singer. Tateh is out, but I expect him back soon.”

  “I know full well that your father is out. I know, too, where he has gone. He’s at the church of his Christian friends, no?”

  “It’s true,” Darlene admitted. She felt sick to her stomach and wished she could sit down. “You’re welcome to wait for him upstairs. Come, I’llmake tea.”

  “No. Perhaps it is better we talk.”

  Darlene glanced around her. Hayyim was on the third floor moving bolts of cloth. She knew he’d be busy for some time and would present no interruption for the cantor. “We can sit in here or go in the back.”

  “The back, then.”

  She nodded and led the way. Her hands were shaking so violently that she wondered if the cantor was aware of her fear. She offered him the more comfortable of two stuffed chairs and when he had taken his seat, she joined him. Barely sitting on the edge of her chair, Darlene leaned forward, smoothed her skirt of pale-blue wool, and waited for Mr. Singer to speak.

  “Miss Lewy, it is believed by many that your father has fallen away from the teachings of his fathers. I cannot say how much this grieves and angers me, nor can I stress enough the dangers you face.”

  Darlene swallowed hard. What should she say? To admit to everything she knew might well see her father ostracized by his own people. Deciding it was better to remain silent and appear the obedient child, Darlene did nothing but look at her folded hands.

  “Avrom has feet in two worlds. It cannot remain so. He is a Jew or he is a traitor to his people.”

  Darlene could not bear to hear him malign her father. Squaring her shoulders, Darlene looked him in the eye. “Mr. Singer, may I ask you aquestion?”