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Authors: Gilbert Morris

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BOOK: The Widow's Choice
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“I . . . I don’t know what to do. Oscar has asked me to marry him.”

“I’m not too surprised. I don’t think anyone else will be either.”

“Has it been that obvious?”

“Pretty obvious. You see, Oscar’s never showed any interest in any other woman, and there have been some attractive women who have tried to get his attention. Why is this a problem for you?”

“Don’t you see it?”

“I guess not. We men are pretty thickheaded. Tell me about it.”

Alona talked about the situation for the next ten minutes, sometimes rambling, bringing up her marriage and how happy she had been, speaking about her worries about the boys and her financial problems, talking about the age difference between herself and Oscar Moran. She finally got to the heart of the matter. “I just don’t feel for Oscar what I . . .”

When she hesitated, Brother Byron said, “You mean you don’t have the same feelings for him that you had for your husband?”

“That’s right. I don’t.”

“But you really didn’t expect to feel that way about any other man, did you, Alona?”

She thought for a moment and then shook her head. “No. I guess I knew I could never feel that way again.”

“And I guess you know that I’m not going to say ‘Don’t marry Oscar Moran,’ or ‘You should marry Oscar Moran.’ I couldn’t say that to you. I know you well enough to know you’ve prayed about it.”

“I have, Pastor, but I don’t have any answer.”

“It’s tough to discern God’s will, isn’t it? How many times have I been there. It’s like you’re going down a road and you see a fork in the road coming, and you’ve got to take one
or the other, but you don’t know which one. And you start screaming out, ‘God, which one—right or left?’ and God doesn’t say anything.”

“It’s exactly like that,” Alona said with surprise. “What do you do?”

“You take the one you want to.”

“But that doesn’t sound right.”

“What’s the other choice? If you don’t take either one, you’ll crash right into the fork. There’re probably trees back there or a house. When this church called me about taking this position, I had no idea whether God wanted me to come here or not. I agonized and I prayed and I fasted, and the longer it went on, the less sure I was about what to do. It was like God locked up heaven and closed it down. Put a sign up that said
No trespassing.
But I had to make a decision. I had to say yes or no.”

“And what did you do?”

“I had to use human wisdom. Since God didn’t tell me directly, I took what seemed to me to be the best road. Even with my frail human wisdom I could make some kind of choice. I had felt for some time that my work was done at the church where I had been pastor for six years. I’d been praying for a new opportunity for a door to open, and suddenly a door was open. So when I didn’t hear a direct message, as Paul did on the road to Damascus, I just said, ‘Lord, you can always stop me, but I’m going to this church unless you intervene.’ So I called the church and told them I’d come, and I watched in case I got a red light. But I didn’t get one.”

He leaned forward and smiled. “And it was the right decision. My advice to you is to do what your heart tells you, and if God gives you a yellow light, be careful. And if He gives you a red light, just say, ‘No. I made a mistake. I won’t do it.’ ”

Alona smiled. “You have the nicest way of refusing to give me any direct advice, Pastor.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice at it. Let’s pray now that whatever happens, God will get glory out of it.” Alona bowed her
head and folded her hands together. Byron Sandifer prayed an earnest prayer, and when he said amen, he got up and walked around his desk. “Why don’t you talk to my wife about this. It may help to get another woman’s perspective.”

“I will. She’s such a sweet woman and has such great insight.”

“She’s home now. I’ll call her and tell her you’re coming, but I won’t tell her why. It’s good for women to talk.”

Alona did have a long talk with Hazel Sandifer. She was a good listener, and in the end she gave no more direct advice than her husband had. But she and Alona prayed together, and Hazel put her arms around her. “You and I will keep on praying, but I think my husband gave you the best advice that anybody could give a woman facing a decision like yours.”

For the next couple of days Alona prayed almost constantly. She was completely out of money—even for groceries. The cupboard was almost bare, and the boys were starting to complain about the simple meals they were having. Alona got down on her knees once again and prayed aloud, “Lord, I have no guidance. I’m going to call Oscar and tell him to come by, and I’m going to agree to marry him. If you don’t want me to do this, make something happen. Please don’t let me make a mistake.”

She went next door to use the telephone. The Carruthers family was always willing to let her use their phone. After chatting very briefly with Pearl, she called the foundry. When she got through to Oscar, she said, “Hello, Oscar. It’s Alona.”

“Alona, is anything wrong?”

“No, but I’d like to talk to you.”

“Would you like me to come out to the house?”

“Yes, I would.”

“I’ll come right now. I’ll be there in a few minutes. I’ll see you then.”

Alona put the phone down, thanked her neighbor, and returned home. She sat down in a rocker in the living room and
began to rock back and forth. Her mind had been filled with confusion, but now somehow the decision seemed simple. “I’ve done all I know how to do,” she murmured. “Now I’m going to see that my boys have a chance.”

She got to her feet when she heard the car pull up and opened the door.

“Well, here I am,” Oscar said as he took off his hat. “What is it? Are the boys all right?”

“Yes, they’re all right. Come into the living room.” They went into the living room and stood face to face. “Oscar, you asked me to marry you, and I’ve kept you waiting for my answer. Now I’d like to tell you that if you still want me to be your wife, I will.”

“Of course I still do.”

“Wait a minute,” she said, putting out her hand as he stepped forward. “I haven’t told my boys yet. I’ll have to talk to them and see how they feel about this. Their opinion is very important to me, you understand.”

“I know that. Of course you must talk to them. I would expect nothing less.”

“All right. I have to say something else . . . and I’m afraid it may sound harsh or uncertain.” Alona was speaking rapidly now and forced herself to be calm. “I want to be as honest with you as you’ve been with me.”

“I appreciate that. Please go on.”

“You know I had a good marriage and that I was very much in love with my husband.”

“Yes. I’m glad about that.”

“I . . . I don’t feel for you what I felt for him. I don’t think I’ll ever feel it for any other man.”

“It’s not reasonable that you would. I don’t know much about things like that, but you married when both of you were young. He was your first love. It was different, special. And you can never repeat things like that. I’m glad you told me this, and I want you to talk to the boys. Talk to them tonight, or this afternoon.”

“I’ll talk to them as soon as they get home from school.”

“Will you call me as soon as you have your answer?”

“Yes. I will.”

He took her hand and lifted it and kissed it. Then he laughed. “I’ve never done that in my life—kissed a woman’s hand.”

Alona smiled. “It was nice. You did it very well.”

He laughed again. “I feel like I’m on top of the world. I know the boys like me. That’s in my favor, but I won’t say any more. Call me when you have an answer for me. Either way, even if you decide not to marry me, I’ll think no less of you.”

“That’s kind of you, Oscar. I’ll call as soon as I’ve talked to the boys.”

She waited until he had left and then sat down again in the rocker. She thought for a long time about their brief conversation and tried to predict what the boys would say. She waited, wondering if she would feel that she had done something wrong. Perhaps that would be the way God would stop her. She continued rocking in the quiet house, but she felt nothing—neither joy nor apprehension.

“Boys, you can go outside and play in a minute, but there’s something I need to talk to you about first.”

“I’m always afraid when you say that, Mom,” Tim said nervously. “It usually means bad news.”

“I’ll bet it’s about money. We’re broke, aren’t we?” Zac spoke up.

“Well, we are broke, but that’s not exactly news. Here, sit down on the couch, all of you.” She pulled a chair over in front of them. “You look like three baby birds, all waiting with your mouths open for me to poke some food down your throat.”

“Come on, Mom,” Carl said. “What is it? Have we done something wrong?”

“No, of course you haven’t.” Alona hesitated as she studied their faces. Zac’s especially, who was a living memorial
of Truman, looking more like him than the other two. Carl also resembled him, but Tim had only a faint resemblance. He had taken her characteristics, and now she saw that he was the most afraid of what she was going to say.

“This is nothing to be afraid of, boys. It’s a decision I have to make, but I need your opinions.”

“Are we going to have to move again, Mom?” Tim asked.

“Well, that’s possible, but that’s not what I wanted to ask you.” She hesitated, then gave a half laugh. “I’m a little embarrassed. I don’t know how to say this, so I’ll just say it right out.” She took a deep breath. “Mr. Moran has asked me to marry him.”

Astonishment washed across Carl’s face. “Did he really!”

“Yes. He really did.”

“Which Mr. Moran?” Tim asked.

“Oscar.”

“It’ll be great, Mom!” Zac said. “We’ll move into his house, and we can play pool anytime we want to, can’t we?”

“There’s more to it than playing pool, Zac. It would be different. Yes, we’d move into his house, but I need to know if you’re ready to accept him as your stepfather. What about you, Tim? You’re the oldest.”

He swallowed hard. “It means you wouldn’t have to work, doesn’t it, Mom?”

“Yes, but I don’t mind working.”

“I hate it when you have to work. I hate it when you have to worry about money all the time. You wouldn’t have to if you married Mr. Moran, would you?”

“No. That’s true enough.”

“He’s been real good to us, Mom,” Carl said. “Remember he took us hunting and bought us clothes? I think you oughta do it.”

“He’d be your dad. You understand that. Not your real dad. You’ll never forget Truman.”

“Would my name be Carl Jennings or Carl Moran?”

“It would be Jennings. You’d still have your father’s name unless Mr. Moran decided to adopt you legally.”

“Why would he do that?” Tim asked quickly.

“Well, purely for legal reasons. For instance, if he wanted to leave you something in his will, it would be easier if you were his legal sons.” She hurried on to say, “He’s not taking the place of your father. Nobody can ever do that.”

“What about you, Mom?” Tim said. “Do you want to marry him?”

Alona turned to this tall son of hers who was so much like her. He alone of the three understood the heart of the matter and cared for her feelings. “I think he’s a very fine man, and I think he would do wonderful things for you boys, and I think we would get along very well.”

For the next ten minutes Alona sat there answering all their questions. It was easy enough to see how the boys stood. Carl and Zac could see only the advantages, but Tim was worried, as she had known he would be. She tried her best to be as honest as she could. When it seemed they had finally asked all of their questions, she said, “I’m going to leave it up to you boys, because we’re a family. I don’t mind working. It’s hard, but we’ll make it somehow. It would be easier, and you boys could do many things if we had more financial security, but we’re not going to make the decision based on that. Would we be a better family, do you think, if I married Oscar and we went to live at his house?”

Of course Carl and Zac at once agreed that they would. But Alona was watching Tim’s face. She saw he was trying to control his emotions and could not imagine what they were. “What do you say, Tim? This is not a majority decision. If any one of you says no, I’ll say no too, so it’s up to you, Tim.”

“Mom, I can’t decide for you.”

“Do you think you could be happy?”

He cleared his throat and searched for words. “I want you to be happy, Mom, and I want you to have an easier life. I don’t care about anything else.”

“There’s my good boy!” Alona cried. She rose up, hugged him, and then hugged the other two. “All right. I’ve prayed about this, and I’ve asked you all about it, and I’ve sought guidance from the pastor and his wife. I’m going to take this as a yes.”

“When will you marry him, Mom?” Tim asked.

“I imagine it will be quite soon. Will that be all right?”

He managed a smile. “Sure. It’ll be fine, Mom. It’ll be good. I’m all for it.”

Alona wasn’t certain if this was the exact truth, but she took him at his word. “All right. End of conference. You can go ahead and play now.”

Later that night, she waited until the boys were in bed, and then she went next door to use the phone again. Pearl and her husband were still up, and they left her alone to make the call.

She dialed Oscar’s number at home, and when he answered, she said, “I talked to the boys, Oscar.”

“How did they take it?”

“They gave me their permission.”

“I’m so glad they did. Were they happy?”

“Yes, they were.” She did not go into detail but said, “If you’d like to come over tomorrow morning, we can talk more.”

“All right. But let me ask you now. Do you want a big church wedding and a fancy dress and all that?”

“No, not really.”

“Neither do I. What do you say we just get married in the pastor’s office. Then we can go away for a few days to get used to each other.”

“But what about the boys?”

“They can stay here with Jason. I think he enjoys their company almost as much as I do.”

“All right, Oscar. I’ll look for you in the morning.”

“I’m very happy, and we’ll be happy together, Alona. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

BOOK: The Widow's Choice
11.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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