Roses for Mama (24 page)

“Then I’d be happy to farm your land—until such time as Derek might want to take it over,” agreed Thane.

“I don’t want to farm,” Derek said quickly.

“So what do you want to do? Play baseball?” teased Thomas, reaching out to ruffle Derek’s hair.

Derek blushed, then grinned. “I want—I want to teach,” he said. “Maybe coach some—and sure, I’d like to play baseball. But I don’t want the farm.”

“Then we don’t have to move!” cried Sara, clapping her hands.

“That’s right. We won’t have to move,” agreed Angela.

“We can keep right on going to the same school.” Sara seemed very pleased that her life would not change drastically.

Louise tilted her head and looked at Thane. “Will you be our new pa?” she asked.

“Is Angela your mother?” he asked in return.

“No-o-o. But she’s our boss.”

“Then I will be your—your big brother, and I will help with the bossing a bit, too. In place of Thomas.”

Louise shrugged. She certainly didn’t need any more bosses, but she didn’t seem too upset by the arrangement. Perhaps she thought it wouldn’t be too bad to trade one boss for another.

“You can boss me—if you want to,” conceded Sara amiably.

Thane reached out an arm and drew the young girl onto his lap. “I can’t imagine you needing a boss,” he told her and pulled a pigtail.

———

The wedding was set for the month of May. Angela marked off the days on the calendar. There was so much to do and she had such limited knowledge of how to plan a wedding. Over and over she visited the Andrews household, getting much-needed help from Thane’s mother.

But her usual duties still had to be cared for. The housework was just as demanding. Sara had outgrown everything she owned, and Angela spent hours at her sewing machine.

Louise still had her emotional swings from high to low. Some days Angela felt as if she was at the end of her patience. Thomas would only shrug and say, “You’re a woman; you understand her better than I do.”

But Angela could not recall going through such a tough time in her own growing-up years.

Mama would have known
, she told herself over and over.
She would have known when to make an issue and when to let it pass
.

Then she would find herself praying, “Oh, dear God, please help Sara pass through the years of change with more ease and less turmoil.”

So Angela’s days were filled to overflowing with scarcely time to think. Between caring for a growing family and preparing for a coming wedding, she felt as if her world were spinning out of control. Thane often came in the evenings, and Angela sometimes darned socks or hemmed skirts while they chatted. He did not seem offended that he did not have her full and undivided attention.

“I wish there was more I could do to help,” he fretted. “Perhaps we should just elope.”

“Mama wouldn’t have been in favor of that,” responded Angela, not seeing the teasing glint in his eye. “She always felt there was something special and sacred about vows taken before the Lord and the congregation.”

Thane did not joke about eloping again.

———

Angela had seen little of Charlie or Gus over the winter months. The small addition had been made to the cabin, and Gus had moved in his few belongings and his bed roll and now shared the three-room home. Angela wondered if he did the cooking duties, but she had never gotten around to asking.

With the receding of the winter storms and the warming of their world, Charlie and Gus came out of hibernation.

“Sure good to be out in the open,” Charlie said to Angela one day when she went out to feed the hens. “Man can get cabin fever all shut up like that.”

“You could have come over,” Angela informed him. “We would have been glad to have you.”

Charlie chuckled. “Well, girlie. Seems to me thet you had about all yer evenings taken.”

Angela flushed slightly but accepted the teasing with a smile.

“There were mornings—and afternoons,” she teased back.

Gus approached slowly. Angela noticed that he was limping.

“Lumbago,” explained Charlie to her unasked question.

“I’m sorry,” sympathized Angela.

“Oh, it’ll get better with some sunshine. Always does,” said Gus cheerfully. “Always does.”

“So why don’t you come in for some coffee?” asked Angela, ashamed of herself for neglecting her two old friends.

They accepted immediately. As they waited for the coffee to boil, Charlie began to question Angela about her plans for the spring garden. Angela admitted that she had not begun to think of gardening.

“Why don’t ya just give us the seed and let us go at it?” asked Charlie.

“Oh, that would be unfair—” began Angela.

“What’s unfair? We plan to eat from it. We’ll plant lots fer everyone. An’ we still can swing a hoe. The time outta the cabin an’ in the sun will do us good.”

Gus nodded in agreement, and Angela finally agreed, telling them what a relief it would be to let them take over.

“Been readin’ yer ma’s Bible.” Charlie announced a complete change of topic.

Angela raised her eyes to look at the old man.

“Understand a lot of things I didn’t understand before,” he went on.

Angela moved her gaze to Gus to catch his reaction.

“Gus an’ me figure as how it’s about time we got ourselves straightened out and attendin’ church.”

“As soon as it warms up we figure we’ll have the preacher baptize us in the crick,” put in Gus. “Right in the crick.”

“Oh—but first,” began Angela, “first you must make your—your commitment—to the faith.”

“Did thet,” said Charlie simply.

Gus nodded. “Yep. Yep. Did thet.”

“You did?” said Angela, her eyes opening wider.

“Did thet,” said Gus. “Both did thet.”

“But how did you know—I mean, what did you—”

“Jest followed the Book,” said Charlie. “Yer mama had all the places marked—jest like ya said. We jest followed the Book.”

“Jest followed the Book,” parroted Gus.

“It works,” continued Charlie, tears trickling down his weathered cheeks. “I got thet there new heart—right in here.” He placed a calloused hand over his shirt front. “Feel changed. New. Just like the Book says.”

“Yup,” put in Gus, tears forming in the corners of his own eyes. “Changed—jest like the Book says,” and he reached up a twisted hand to cover his own heart.

Angela had tears of her own now. To think that years after the seed had been sown by her parents, it had now born fruit. “I—I just—don’t know what to—to say,” she stammered. “I’m so—so happy. Papa and Mama would both be so—so pleased.”

“Yup,” said Gus nodding his head. “Yup.”

———

When May arrived, Thane had joined Thomas in the fields to get all the planting done before the wedding. Feeding hungry men and sending children off to school kept Angela’s already busy days even fuller. Derek took on a man’s share of farm chores. Daily Angela breathed a sigh of thanks that she didn’t have the responsibility of the big garden. Charlie and Gus had kept their promise, and plants were peeking their heads above the ground, already promising an abundant yield.

Thane and Angela had little time to themselves, but they promised to make up for it in the years ahead.

———

The morning of the wedding Angela turned to her bedroom window and was disappointed by the sight of drizzling rain. “I had so hoped for a sunny day,” she mourned, and then remembered her mama telling how her own wedding day had been greeted with a shower as well.

“But by wedding time,” her mama had said, “the clouds had rolled on and the sun was shining.”

Angela prayed that it might be so for her and Thane as well. “But if it isn’t,” she determined, “this will still be the happiest day of my life.” Angela rose from her bed with a song and hurried down to prepare the family breakfast.

“Aren’t you the cheery one this morning,” greeted Thomas as he lifted the milk pail from its hook in preparation for his trip to the barn.

Angela beamed at him.

“Have you noticed the weather?” asked Derek as he struggled into a light jacket.

“I noticed,” said Angela. “To be honest, it’s not what I would have ordered—had the choice been mine—but we’ll make do.”

Thomas nodded. “I think it will clear by midmorning,” he predicted cheerily.

———

They hurried through the morning chores and breakfast to get an early start on their trip to town. The girls were to change for the wedding at the Andrews’ house after the morning service. Mrs. Andrews had helped Angela sew her wedding gown. It was not nearly as elaborate as the gown Trudie had worn, but Angela was content. It suited her.

Louise was to wear a dress of pale blue and Sara one of soft pink. Angela was allowing Sara the privilege of pinning up her long blond hair.

“It is rushing things a bit,” she explained, “so tomorrow it is back to braids again.”

Sara nodded, but her eyes danced with the excitement of being considered grown-up—even for a day.

“We must hurry,” coaxed Angela as they finished their breakfast. “We don’t want to keep everyone waiting. Thomas, are you ready with the Scriptures?”

Thomas lifted the family Bible and was about to begin the morning reading when Louise interrupted.

“Couldn’t we play the game? Just once more? Please. It won’t take us long. Please.”

“But we can still play the game. Just as often as we like,” said Angela. “Thane is always happy to play it with us.”

“But Thomas will be gone,” said Louise, fighting hard to keep back the tears. “It just won’t be the same anymore.”

No. It would not be the same. Thomas would be gone—leaving for his dream of schooling and research just as soon as she and Thane returned from their short wedding trip. And then Derek would be leaving them to make his way in the world. And before they all turned around, Louise would be grown—then little Sara.

Before Angela could start crying, a new thought came to her. She would always have Thane. There would be no day when he would grow up and leave her. That was the marvel of God’s great plan. Through good times and bad, through sickness and health, in weakness and in strength, Thane would be with her as long as God granted them years on earth. It was a comforting thought to Angela. She rose from her chair and lifted her head, her eyes shining in appreciation for the wisdom and love of her Father.

“All right,” she agreed. “One more time with Thomas.”

Louise, satisfied, settled back in her chair. Angela hurried to the buffet drawer and came back with the fifth scribbler they had been filling with their memories.

Thomas started the memories. “I remember,” he said, “the morning I was baptized. It was a very special morning for me—I was telling all my friends that I intended to put aside selfish plans and try to live my life in the manner Christ taught His disciples. Mama took me in her arms and told me she was proud of me for making the right decision—then she looked me in the eyes and said, ‘Thomas—always be true to the step you are taking. Don’t ever—ever think of turning back.’”

As Angela hurriedly wrote to keep up with Thomas’s words, she noted to herself that
somewhere along the way we have changed from just sharing memories to also thinking of the lessons Mama so subtly taught with each little incident of our childhood
.

After a moment of silence Derek cleared his throat and said, “I remember one morning when I went out to feed the chickens and the mother cat was running across the yard with a little dead bird. I chased her and got it back. I cried—and I brought it in to Mama. She just hugged me for a long time and let me cry and then she said, ‘Son, don’t fight death. Death, too, is a part of life. One thing dies that another might live. God is a wise God. He has a purpose for all things—even death. And for us—His special creation—death is the only gate to eternal life. When the time comes for me to join Him, though we might wish to linger a bit, it will be a triumphant time. Remember that.’”

Derek stopped and swallowed hard. “I had forgotten that,” he went on, “until just now.”

Angela blinked away tears. To some it might have seemed morbid to be talking of death on her wedding morning, but it wasn’t morbid to Angela. She felt that Derek had just made an important step in dealing with his grief.

“I remember,” said Sara, “the little pink quilt Mama made for my dolly. I got the dolly for Christmas and she didn’t have any blankets and it was cold. I remember. We shivered even in the kitchen that winter.”

Angela remembered that cold spell of which Sara spoke. It hadn’t lasted long but it had been bitter.

“Well, I wanted my dolly to be warm. I tried to hide her under my sweater, but then Mama said she would make her a quilt—and she did. And when she gave it to me she said, ‘Sara, always show as much—much passion—’”

“Compassion,” corrected Angela softly.

“‘Com-passion,’” Sara continued, “‘toward others as you are showing for your dolly now. Share your warmth, Sara. Share your love.’”

Louise wriggled on her chair as if she had changed her mind about wanting to play the game. By the time Angela had finished writing Sara’s memory, however, Louise was ready to begin.

“I remember,” she said in a whispery voice, “one morning when Mama came to call me for school. I didn’t want to get up so I thought I would just pretend I was sick.”

Louise stopped and fidgeted some more.

“Well, Mama laid a hand on my forehead and she said there was no fever—then she had me open wide my mouth and she looked at my throat. She said it was fine. She pressed on my tummy here and there and asked if it hurt and I said ‘No.’ Then she asked me if I had—had broken my leg and I said ‘No’ again, so she said I must really be quite fine then. Nothing seemed to be wrong—so she told me to get up. After breakfast when I was kissing Mama goodbye, she held me close and said, ‘Louise, don’t ever try to pretend you are something that you are not. Folks always see right through the sham. Be true to others—and to yourself.’”

Louise paused for a moment and then admitted softly, “Sometimes it is still hard for me not to pretend—a little. But I—I am trying to learn.”

You poor darling
, thought Angela as her pen stopped writing for a minute while she considered the words.
Perhaps you are growing up
.