Katharine's Yesterday (6 page)

The young men noticed it too, when they came, and one of them felt that a prayer of his had been answered. Indeed, Frank Warner felt, as he watched Katharine day by day, that she had gone far beyond him in her Christian life.

“Miss Katharine, you seem different this summer from last,” he said to her one evening as they walked down the moonlit village street, the last of the procession of young people who had gone out to enjoy the full moon. “Will you tell me how it is?”

“Am I different?” she asked, with a happy little laugh; then, more soberly, “I’m glad you think so. There ought to be a great difference, but there isn’t as much as I wish.”

“And what has made this difference? May I know about it?” he asked.

She was still for a moment, and then slowly, almost timidly, began to recite the little poem which had grown to seem a part of her life.

“
I was poor yesterday, but not today;

For Jesus came this morning
,

And took the poor away.”

Through to the end she repeated it, her voice very sweet and low; and he listened, taking the words into his heart, to be kept for a sacred memory.

“That is the reason why there is a difference,” she said, “if there is any. The restlessness and uneasiness are all gone from my heart now. I feel as if Jesus had forgiven me. Your little book has helped me too. I have read that chapter of Corinthians every day this year
, and it grows more wonderful every time I read it.”

The moonlight sifting through the leaves made a corridor of soft light for them to walk in. The hum of the crickets, the occasional lifting of some leaf by the night wind, and worried song of a mother bird singing a late lullaby to her babies – all seemed to lend a solemn quiet to the air about, and to help them to talk about this great subject, and open their hearts to one another as they had not done before. Gradually the voices of the others grew fainter, as the steps of these two grew slower, and they held sweet conversation about their heavenly Father. It seemed, indeed, as though he were near, listening; and when, in the quietness of her own room that night, Katharine thought over that walk and talk, the words of a familiar old poem came to her mind.

And the Lord, standing quietly by

In the shadows dim,

Smiling, perhaps, in the darkness,

To hear our sweet, sweet talk of him.

There came a day, at the close of the summer, when Katharine stood beside the front gate once more, thinking. The summer friends had all flitted again, and another winter was about to begin; but Katharine was not dreaming of her yesterday time, nor even of her today, but was taking a little peep into a very bright tomorrow - a tomorrow in which she was to help Frank Warner be a good minister, and he was to help her be the minister’s wife.

John came down the walk and stood beside her, resting his hand upon her shoulder. She looked up at his face, and saw in it a little of that sense of left-aloneness which had made her so miserable a year ago, and she roused from her sweet thoughts to cheer him up.

But John will never be troubled by the dreariness of a today; for his sister no longer lives in her yesterdays, and he has learned the secret of marking all the todays bright by looking forward to a joyful tomorrow.

The following chapter titles were given to me, and I was asked to write a short story based upon them. I tried to be clever.

Philip buckled his sword belt, donned his cape, jumped onto his horse – Chester – and kicked him into a gallop as they left the castle gate. It was time to go rescue a princess.

Philip was not at all happy about this. In his not so humble opinion, rescuing princesses was not at all what it was cracked up to be. He didn’t even
like
princesses. Far too prissy and needy, the lot of them. They were always getting kidnapped by dragons, and instead of doing something useful – like maybe
escaping
– they sat around bemoaning the hand fate dealt them and waiting for a prince to do all the hard work. Philip just didn’t see the appeal.

It was no wonder there was a princess shortage these days; half of them got eaten by dragons who got bored waiting. Philip had even heard of an insomniac princess once – couldn’t sleep because there was a pea under her mattress or something. Sounded like a horrible person to be stuck with. But princess-searching he was to go on.

Philip pulled his horse up short as he reached the edge of the Mysterious Forest. It looked, well – let’s be obvious here. It looked rather
mysterious
. Light fog, strange noises, all that jazz. There was even a strange plodding noise, possibly a giant walking towards them inside the shadows and fog of the forest. No – wait. That was just Chester, chewing loudly. Let’s proceed.

After a brief tug-of-war with the reigns, Philip got Chester away from his snack and to a slow trot into the forest. Only minutes had passed before he noticed something unusually mysterious. There seemed to be a woman lying in the middle of a clearing.

“Here we go” Philip muttered under his breath.

Philip dismounted and walked carefully over to the woman. She seemed to be awake and breathing, judging by the rise and fall of her chest. Philip noticed the many small footprints around her and the apple clenched in her hand, with only a single bite taken out of it.

Philip sighed. He had heard about her.

“Miss White?” he asked resignedly.

The woman’s eyelashes fluttered, and then she cracked an eye open.

“You’re not my true love, are you? Because if you are, you really should be kissing me by now.”

“No. I’m definitely not.” Philip wasn’t positive if this was true, but he certainly hoped he was not her true love. She was quite beautiful, perhaps even the fairest of them all, but Snow White seemed like such a drama queen.

Snow sniffed loudly, and snapped her eye shut.

“Then I’ll keep sleeping here until he comes.”

You do that
, Philip thought to himself. He mounted his horse again, and rode off further into the forest.
I’ve already met Snow, and so early in my journey too. Who knows what I’ll find next?

Philip did not have to wait long. He hadn’t even traveled for twenty minutes before he met his next mysterious figure.

In front of Philip walked a small imp-like figure, not unlike something from the Dwarfian species. He was pacing in front of an old oak tree, muttering things that sounded suspiciously like “blood of a firstborn.” When he noticed Philip, he stood straighter and cackled.

“A human, eh? Here to play a little game with me, young man? You may refer to me as ‘The Visitor.’ I will give you two tries to guess my last name, I will give you a favor if you get it right. But if you don’t, then I get –“

“Rumpelstiltskin.”

The creature gaped at him. Philip wasn’t sure if he felt more amused or annoyed. Surely Rumpelstiltskin knew the story about him was famous? But maybe he just wasn’t very smart. That seemed increasingly likely to Philip, given the circumstances of how Rumpelstiltskin lost his infamous contest.

“But… you…” Rumpelstiltskin sputtered.

*Poof*

Philip looked around. In a cloud of smoke, Rumpelstilskin had departed.

The next event in Philip’s adventure took a bit longer. Several hours passed as he journeyed further and further into the forest, without any sign of life beyond the trees and the occasional bird. Philip started to second guess his decisions.
Maybe he should have given Snow White a second chance. Surely she couldn’t be that bad, compared to all this…

Philip’s musings broke off as he noticed a castle ahead. It was castle made completely of ice, and it looked ominous. Philip frowned. He knew he had heard of it before, but he couldn’t place which story it was from. Dismounting from his horse, he took small steps across the draw bridge. It was slippery, being made from ice and all, but Philip found it was manageable as long as he was careful.

To his surprise, the castle opened up to a large room built of ice and snowing from its ceiling. Although it was summer outside, inside it felt like deep winter. The room housed three occupants: a small girl, who looked like she had been crying. A boy, devoid of more color than he should and who was staring intently at a mirror-like circle in the center of the room. And a woman, dressed in an elaborate white gown and sitting on what could only be described as an ice throne. The woman is what gave it away. Her ethereal beauty could have almost rivaled Snow White’s, except that she seemed to have a heart of ice – literally.

“Yo, dude.” Philip called to the boy in the center of room.

The boy looked up.

“The answer to eternity is ‘love.’ You’re welcome.”

Philip’s eyes swept the room, checking the results of his helpful hand. The girl looked confused yet happy, the boy seemed to look more normal, and the woman – well, the Snow Queen looked very angry. Philip took one look at her and decided he would take his chances on the icy drawbridge as he ran back to Chester.

Philip was just starting to feel at home in the deserted forest, riding his trusty horse for a couple more hours with no particular direction, when things started happening again.

*Poof*

Rumpelstiltskin appeared without warning, scaring Chester into rearing and nearly tossing Philip off. Chester glared at the small creature, and then settled in to eating a grassy snack.

Philip took one look at Rumpelstiltskin’s sullen face, and sighed. “Hello ‘The Visitor.’ Why did you decide to return?”

“You answered my riddle. Fairs fair.” “Although you’re a cheater like the rest of them” Rumpelstilskin muttered. In a louder voice, he said: “What wish would you like fulfilled?”

“Well, right now I’d really like to find the right girl for me.”

Rumpelstiltskin looked like he was going to snigger, so Philip added defiantly,

“My mom’s making me do it!”

Rumpelstiltskin’s snigger turned into a full-bodied guffaw.

 “Laugh, for all I care! You don’t know what it’s like dealing with a queen for a mom. She’s use to always getting her way. Why yesterday she planned a ball for birthday! She expected me to find a wife there.” “Seventeen is when you come of age” Philip mocked in a sing-song voice. “It’s time to find a wife! You will dance with every girl who attends, you will be a charming prince to every one of them, and by the end of the ball… I want a name!” He added this last part with a near-shriek. 

“Meh” Phillip added in disgust. “So I told her in no uncertain terms I would not be dancing the night away, or any such nonsense, and that I would find a princess the old-fashioned way: by tromping through a forest!” “So here I am” Philip said, looking down at himself, “a bit lost and a bit confused.”

“Hmm…” Rumpelstiltskin said. His face had lost its mocking expression, and he looked at Phillip consideringly for a few seconds.

*Poof*

Rumpelstiltskin disappeared again. Philip sighed when he saw this, but only for a second… his sigh turned into a cry of surprise. Because with another *poof* - Philip found
himself
disappearing.

When the world stopped spinning, Philip patted himself down. Relieved that he seemed to be all in one piece, he took in his surroundings. Chester was here – and seemingly also unharmed, judging by the amount of grass he was chowing down. Philip appeared to be in another clearing in the middle of trees, presumably still in the Mysterious Forest, but nothing looked familiar. The most noticeable aspect of the immediate surroundings was the giant pumpkin about three times as large as Chester with the stem smashed off.

“Hello” called the pumpkin.

Philip looked more closely.

“Is someone there?” the pumpkin added.

Quickly, Philip realized his mistake – there was someone
inside
the pumpkin.

“Yes, I am here” he replied quickly. “Do you need to be rescued?”

“Oh, no I don’t think so. Thank you, but I’ve almost got it. I daresay I should, I have been working on these footholds for hours.”

A woman’s head popped up out of hole at the top of the pumpkin. It was difficult to tell, her being covered in pumpkin pulp and all, but Philip thought she was quite beautiful… in a different way than the Snow Queen or Snow White – much more down-to-earth. It was a welcome change.

“If you don’t mind me asking… whatever were you doing?”

The woman laughed good-naturedly as she slid down the side of the pumpkin.

“Yes” she said, looking at the pumpkin stains and giant seeds covering her dress. “I suppose I am a bit of a mess” she added deprecatingly.

Philip was about to offer reassurance in the form of a bald-faced lie, when he heard Chester whinny in alarm. “What is it boy?” Philip looked up quickly.

It
turned out to be a couple of mice, whose frantic scurrying had spooked the horse.

“Oh, don’t worry about Confrontation and Departure… they’re harmless.”

Philip must have raised an eyebrow, despite all of his etiquette training to the contrary, because the woman blushed. Or maybe she just realized the irony. “I named them after a particularly bad row involving my step-sisters. It’s a long story…”

“I’ve got the time” Philip responded simply.

“All right then. I should probably begin with my name: I’m Cinderella” she matched this last part with a quick curtsey.

“My friends call me Philip” Philip said with a formal bow.

Cinderella continued. “I do my best to love my stepsisters and stepmother, but they are really quite difficult. It’s hard to love someone when they don’t love you back, you know? And they never seem to let me have any fun. That’s why last night was so special. My fairy godmother decided to show up, after years and years, and – I was to go to a ball! My godmother turned this pumpkin – it was just a little one before – into a carriage, and Confrontation and Departure were turned into human footmen! And I was to dance the night away with a handsome prince, just this once. But then we were turned away at the gate – I don’t know why! And the men, err – the mice – drove the carriage into the woods until the spell wore off at midnight!” She finished this last part in a rush, like it was bursting to be outside her, all happiness and cheer even at the misfortunes that had befallen her.