our gift to you - guideposts · 2020. 12. 9. · i’ll tell you what, alice, i’ve never, not in...
Post on 31-Mar-2021
0 Views
Preview:
TRANSCRIPT
O u r G i f t t o Yo u
Back Home Again
Tales from Grace Chapel Inn
(
ThinraysofafternoonsunlightfilteredthroughtheleavesoftheoldmapletreethatdominatedthefrontyardoftheHowardfamilyhome.UnshedtearsblurredAliceHoward’svisionasshesquintedupatthetree’smajesticcanopy.Howwasitpossiblethatmorethanfiftyyearshadpassedsinceherfatherhaddugagallon-sizedholeandplantedthatspindlytwig?Yetsherememberedthatdayasifitwereyesterday.Fatherhadplantedthetreefortworeasons:first,tocelebratethebirthofhisthirddaughterJane,andsecond,tohonorthememoryofhisbelovedwifeMadeleine.Asaresult,thetreehadalwaysevokedmixedfeelingsinAlice.Shehaddearlylovedherlittlesister,butlikeanynormaltwelve-year-oldgirl,shehadalsomournedthelossofhermother.
AndnowFatherwasgoneaswell.Forthefirsttime,therealityofthislosspenetratedherheartlikeawell-aimedsword,andhertearsbegantofallfreely.Ithadbeensuchashocktoreceivethatphonecalltodayatwork.Herfatherhadseemedperfectlyfineearlierthismorning.FredHumbertwastheonetocall.Heexplainedhowhe’dlefthishardwarestoretotakealookattheleakykitchenfaucetthatherfatherhadtoldhimaboutyesterday.Hehadknockedseveraltimesbeforehelethimselfin.
“Ifoundhimsittinginhischairinthestudy,Alice,justlikehe’dpeacefullygonetosleep.ButwhenItappedhimontheshoulder,Iknewsomethingwaswrong.Iguesshe’dhadaheartattack.Icouldtellhewasgone.Probablyhadbeenforacoupleofhours.Iknewitwasnousetocalltheparamedics,soIdecidedtocallyou.Ifiguredyou’dknowwhattodo.”
D1d
Alicehadspedhomeandhadspenttherestofthedaydealingwiththings.Nowthatthearrangementshadbeenmadeandhertwosistershadbeennotified,thereseemedtobelittlelefttodo,otherthantowait.
Itwasthewaitingthatundidher.AllshecouldthinkofwasFatherandallthelittlethingsshewouldmissabouthim,likehissunnysmile,andthewayhelikedtosneaktablescrapstoWendell,thencomplainthatthecatwasgettingtoochubby.She’dmisshisreadingaloudtoherfromthelocalweeklynewspaperandthewayheaddedhisowneditorialcommentsthatneverfailedtomakeherchuckle.No,lifewouldneverbethesameagain.
Ofcourse,Fatherhadbeenquiteoldandhishealthhadbeenfailingforyears,butAlicehadneverreallypreparedherselffortherealityofhisactualabsence.Perhapsshe’dbeenindenial.Therewasnodenyingitnow.Hewasgone,andtherewasabigholeinherlife.ShesatdownonthecreakyfrontporchswingnexttoWendell.Withadeepsigh,sheranherhandoverhiswarm,grayandblackfurandwonderedwhatwasgoingoninthatfelinebrainrightnow.Didheknowwhathadhappenedthismorning?Ofcourse,hemust.Afterall,FatherhadalwaysclaimedthatWendellwas“insightfulforacatanyway.”Shescratchedhisfavoritespot,onthetopofhisheadrightbetweenhisears,andcontinuedtowait.Oh,ifonlyLouiseandJanewouldgethere.
“Alice!”calledashrillvoicefrombehindher.“AliceChristine,whereareyou?”
D 2 d
Aliceglancedtowardthewestsideofthehouseintimetospyaflashofvividredhairjustpassingthroughtheovergrownrosetrellis.Sherecognizedtheshadeas“TitianDreams”—thecolorthatAuntEthel’shairdresserappliedtoherrootseveryfourweeks.AliceknewshemightbeabletoavoidAuntEthelifshehurriedintothehouse,butwhatwouldbetheuse?Herauntwouldeventuallycatchupwithheranyway.For,despiteAuntEthel’sage,whichAlicesuspectedwasmid-seventiesalthoughAuntEthelkeptthissecret,shewasasharpoldwoman,bothinwitandintongue.Andduringthetenyearsshe’dlivedinthecarriagehousenextdoor,she’dbecomeoneofAlice’sgreatestchallengesinlife.
IthadbeenFather’ssuggestiontorelocateAuntEthelnearby.He’dbeenconcernedabouthisyoungersistergrowingoldalone,andatthetimeitsoundedlikeagoodideatoAlicetoo.She’denvisionedthethreeofthembecomingasortoffamily.Andindeedtheyhadintheirownway.
“I’montheporch,”Alicecalled.
“Oh,Alice!Whatareyoudoingjustsittingaroundatatimelikethis?Landsakes,theremustbeahundredthingstodorightnow.”
“Yes.”Alicesaidwithatiredsmile.“AndI’vebeendoingthem.”
“ButIwasjustchattingwithCarleneMossdownatthenewspaper,andshesaidthatyouhadn’tnotifiedthemofDaniel’s
D 3 d
demiseyet.Naturally,they’llwanttodoafront-pagestoryaboutDaniel’slifeofservicehereinAcornHill—probablyneedagoodphotographtoo.IthinkImayhaveonethatwillwork.Goodnessknowsthatmangavehislifetohiscongregation.Formorethansixdecadestoo!Andwhataboutthememorialservice,Alice,haveyoudecidedwhatto—”
“IthoughtI’dleavesomedecisionsuntilJaneandLouisearrive.”
“Andwhenmightthatbe?”AuntEthelpeereddownatherwatchasifshewerethestationmasterwaitingforadelayedtrain.
Aliceshrugged.“I’mnotsure,butI’mguessingLouisemightarrivelaterthisafternoonandJanebytomorrowevening.”
“Well,Iguessit’sallrightforyoutositaroundalldaylongifyoulike,butIhaveplacestogo,peopletosee.”
Alicestoodup,leaningovertheporchrailingshepeeredintoheraunt’spaleblueeyes.“Butdon’tyoumisshim,Auntie?”
Forabriefmoment,AuntEthel’sveneerofbusynessandefficiencyseemedtocrackslightly,andsheevensniffed.“Well,ofcourse,Imisshim,dear.Hewasmyonlylivingbrother,andIexpectedhimtogoonforever.”Shenowpulledalace-trimmedhankyfromthebodiceofherfloraldressanddaubedhernose.“Ijustdon’thavetimetodwellonitrightnow.”
Alicepartiallyunderstoodheraunt’sphilosophy.Sometimesitwaseasiertokeepyourselfbusyanddistracted,to
D 4 d
holdyouremotionsatbay.Butmaybeitwasn’talwaysthebestroute—atleastnotinthelongrun.
“Whataboutthisoldhouse?”demandedtheaunt,changingthesubjectasonlyshecoulddo.“Didn’tyourfatherleavethisplacetothechurch?Doesthatmeanyou’llbemovingoutsoon?”
Aliceslowlyshookherhead.“ActuallyFatherleftittous—toJaneandLouiseandme.”
AuntEthelfrownedasifthiswerethesilliestplanimaginable.“Whatonearthwillthethreeofyoudowiththishouse?Goodgracious,it’sfallingdownaroundyourears.”
“Idon’tknowwhatwe’lldowithit,butFatherhadbeengoingonaboutthisideaquitealotrecently.Herecalledwhenwethreegirlsweregrowinguphere.Hekeptremindingmeofallthegoodtimeswe’dsharedinthishouse.Ithinkhehopedthatgivingittouswouldsomehowhelptobringusbacktogetheragain.”
AuntEthellaughed,buttherewasadistinctnoteofsarcasminit.“Well,nowwouldn’tthatbesomething.I’lltellyouwhat,Alice,I’venever,notinallmyborndays,everknownflesh-and-bloodsistersanylessalikethanyouthree.”
Aliceknewherauntwasmostlyright,butthetactlesscommentstillirkedher.Yet,shekeptherreactiontoherself.
“Well,youthreewouldbewisetoselloffthisrundownoldplacequicklybeforetheplacedeterioratesevenmore.Tsk-tsk.Justlookatthatpeelingpaint.”
D 5 d
AlicestrokedWendell’scoatmorefirmlythanbefore.Thecatreactedbyhoppingdownandsashayingacrosstheporch.
“Oh,there’sLloyd,”saidAuntEthelsuddenly.Shewavedacrossthestreet,andthencalledoutachirpy“Yoo-hoo!”
LloydTynanhadonhislightblueseersuckersuittoday,withadarkerblueshirtandacrispwhitebowtie.Hesmiledbroadlyandwavedback.AsmayorofAcornHill,nottomentionAuntEthel’smostrecentbeau,itwaslikelyhehadalreadyheardthesadnews.And,ifnot,he’dcertainlyhearaboutitnow.
“Willyouexcuseme,dear?”AuntEthelgaveherflamboyantcoiffureaquicklittlepat.“IneedtogospeaktoLloydaboutsomethingI’dlikehimtosayatyourfather’sservice.”
“Notatall.”Alicefeltawaveofreliefpassoverher.ThankgoodnessforLloyd.Ifhehadn’tshownupwhenhedid,shemight’vebeensubjectedtoanotheroneofAuntEthel’slittlelecturesonwhyAliceshouldgetherselfmarried,particularlynowthatherfatherwasgone.Thiswasoneofheraunt’sfavoritetopicsandcouldalwaysbecountedonattimesofweddings,births,showers,holidays,orfunerals.Alice’sageofsixty-twodidnothingtodeterheraunteither.EveryoneintownknewthatAuntEthelfirmlybelievedthatromancewasn’tlimitedtotheyoung.
Justthesame,Alicefeltcertainshedidn’thaveitinhertoabidethatparticularspeech.Nottodayanyway.Longago,Alicehadresignedherselftohersinglelifestyle.Sheenjoyednursingandcaringforothers,andshedevotedherselftoheryouthgroupandreallylovedthosegirlsasiftheywereherown.Whatdidit
D 6 d
039-5406
Guideposts | PO Box 5815 | Harlan, IA 51593 | Guideposts.org
matteriftheywereyoungenoughtobehergrandchildrennow?
FatherhadalwaysprovidedagoodbufferforAuntEthel’sthoughtlessinterference,lovinglyremindingAlicehowusefulandhelpfulshewastosomany.Heenjoyedreplayingtheoccasionalstoryhe’dhearatthecoffeeshop,exaggeratingshewascertain,aboutthevariouspatientswhowere“touchedbyAlice’sselflesskindnesses”duringtheirhospitalstays—asifsheweresomekindofFlorenceNightingale.Fatherwouldreinforcetohertheimportanceofherworkwiththeyounggirlsinthechurch.Ithadallhelpedtobalancethingsout.Butnowthathewasgone,AuntEthelhadtheupperhand.
Shewalkeddowntheporchsteps,treadinggentlyontheboardthatwasloose,asshepeereddownthequietstreettowardtown.Thepavementshimmeredlikewavyglassinthehotafternoonsun.Wouldthissummerneverend?ItwasSeptemberalready,andyetjustashotasmid-July.ShesteppedontothesidewalkandlookedtowardHillStreet,longingtoseeLouise’scarturningthecorneratthefour-waystopbeforeitslowlyproceededthisway.ButChapelRoadremainedjustasquietandemptyastheoldVictorianhousebehindher.
top related