on a hot summer's day.
"And don't take all day. There's plenty of darning left to
do."
Faith stepped off the back porch and reached behind the
steps for the leather strap she'd been braiding on previous
trips. Keeping to the well-worn path, she held the strap hid den in the folds of her dress. Her handiwork wouldn't be
appreciated should she encounter Nicholas along the way.
She took refuge in the outhouse, bolted the door, then
made herself as comfortable as possible. For over an hour
she braided and prayed for patience, more faith, and more
guidance. Papa always said, "Don't make a bit of difference
where you pray. God hears you no matter where you are.,,
Well, she sure hoped he was listening now because she
was giving him an earful.
I'm running real low on faith, Lord. I don't mean to be always
complaining. I know there's folks a lot worse off than me. Guess
I'm just feeling sorry for myself again. My fingers hurt from darning, and I've got a big blister on my little toe from those awful
pointy shoes. I know Nicholas isn't as cranky as he seems. I caught
him talking real gentle-like to a stray dog the other night. He
didn't know I saw him, but he was awfully kind to the lost pet.
And one night, he brought a new caff into the house and laid it by
the stove. I thought Liza was going to faint. Said she'd just
mopped the floor that day! But he didn't budge an inch. Said he
wanted to keep a close watch on the heifer in case she got off to a
rocky start. Now I ask you, Lord, would a mean man be that considerate? I don't think so. I think he must have other things on his
mind, things that don't concern inc but that make him the way he
is. On the inside, I suspect, he is a kind man. If you'll just provide
me sucient faith to see this thing through, I believe it will all work
out. . . . Bless Mary Ellen's new twins. They sure are sweet
The sudden knock on the outhouse door startled her from
her preoccupation.
"Faith?"
She sat up. "Yes, Mr. Shepherd?"
"Mama says you've been in there over an hour. Are you
ill?"
"No. I'm fine." Faith felt color heat her cheeks. Of all the
humiliating things Mother Shepherd could do! Sending
Nicholas to the outhouse to fetch her back to darn those
old socks!
An eternity passed.
"Are you coming out?" Nicholas's voice sounded weary.
"Do you need to come in?" Faith asked, wishing he
would just go away. Couldn't a woman enjoy a personal
moment?
More agonizing silence passed. She knew she'd have to
answer him sooner or later.
"Mr. Shepherd? You still there?"
"I'm here."
"Go back to the house and tell Mother Shepherd I'll be
there in a moment."
She couldn't come out with him standing there. He'd see
the braided strap and be angry. It was one of those "man"
things he'd warned her not to do. She exhaled a heavy sigh
when she heard the sound of receding footsteps.
Supper that night was fried chicken, milk gravy, string beans,
and biscuits and sorghum. Faith cleared the dishes from the
table. It was one of the few times Liza consented to let her
help in the kitchen. Nicholas excused himself and retired to
the side porch. Liza retreated to the parlor to read the Bible.
Faith completed her kitchen chores. Pouring a fresh cup
of coffee for Liza and one for herself, she proceeded into the
parlor to join her future mother-in-law.
The kerosene lamp burned low. Liza was asleep in her
chair, her reading spectacles slipped down the bridge of her
nose. The open Bible was still in her lap.
Poor dear, Faith thought. Drinking and chewing. How could
she help Liza, make her see those were only temporary
solutions to whatever was troubling her?
Setting the coffee on a corner table, Faith turned up the
lamp for a closer look. Liza's face, peaceful in sleep, looked
softer tonight, almost vulnerable. Leaning closer, she sniffed.
Not a sign of liquor on her breath. Faith quietly removed
Liza's spectacles, placing them and the Bible on the table.
Leaning
"And don't take all day. There's plenty of darning left to
do."
Faith stepped off the back porch and reached behind the
steps for the leather strap she'd been braiding on previous
trips. Keeping to the well-worn path, she held the strap hid den in the folds of her dress. Her handiwork wouldn't be
appreciated should she encounter Nicholas along the way.
She took refuge in the outhouse, bolted the door, then
made herself as comfortable as possible. For over an hour
she braided and prayed for patience, more faith, and more
guidance. Papa always said, "Don't make a bit of difference
where you pray. God hears you no matter where you are.,,
Well, she sure hoped he was listening now because she
was giving him an earful.
I'm running real low on faith, Lord. I don't mean to be always
complaining. I know there's folks a lot worse off than me. Guess
I'm just feeling sorry for myself again. My fingers hurt from darning, and I've got a big blister on my little toe from those awful
pointy shoes. I know Nicholas isn't as cranky as he seems. I caught
him talking real gentle-like to a stray dog the other night. He
didn't know I saw him, but he was awfully kind to the lost pet.
And one night, he brought a new caff into the house and laid it by
the stove. I thought Liza was going to faint. Said she'd just
mopped the floor that day! But he didn't budge an inch. Said he
wanted to keep a close watch on the heifer in case she got off to a
rocky start. Now I ask you, Lord, would a mean man be that considerate? I don't think so. I think he must have other things on his
mind, things that don't concern inc but that make him the way he
is. On the inside, I suspect, he is a kind man. If you'll just provide
me sucient faith to see this thing through, I believe it will all work
out. . . . Bless Mary Ellen's new twins. They sure are sweet
The sudden knock on the outhouse door startled her from
her preoccupation.
"Faith?"
She sat up. "Yes, Mr. Shepherd?"
"Mama says you've been in there over an hour. Are you
ill?"
"No. I'm fine." Faith felt color heat her cheeks. Of all the
humiliating things Mother Shepherd could do! Sending
Nicholas to the outhouse to fetch her back to darn those
old socks!
An eternity passed.
"Are you coming out?" Nicholas's voice sounded weary.
"Do you need to come in?" Faith asked, wishing he
would just go away. Couldn't a woman enjoy a personal
moment?
More agonizing silence passed. She knew she'd have to
answer him sooner or later.
"Mr. Shepherd? You still there?"
"I'm here."
"Go back to the house and tell Mother Shepherd I'll be
there in a moment."
She couldn't come out with him standing there. He'd see
the braided strap and be angry. It was one of those "man"
things he'd warned her not to do. She exhaled a heavy sigh
when she heard the sound of receding footsteps.
Supper that night was fried chicken, milk gravy, string beans,
and biscuits and sorghum. Faith cleared the dishes from the
table. It was one of the few times Liza consented to let her
help in the kitchen. Nicholas excused himself and retired to
the side porch. Liza retreated to the parlor to read the Bible.
Faith completed her kitchen chores. Pouring a fresh cup
of coffee for Liza and one for herself, she proceeded into the
parlor to join her future mother-in-law.
The kerosene lamp burned low. Liza was asleep in her
chair, her reading spectacles slipped down the bridge of her
nose. The open Bible was still in her lap.
Poor dear, Faith thought. Drinking and chewing. How could
she help Liza, make her see those were only temporary
solutions to whatever was troubling her?
Setting the coffee on a corner table, Faith turned up the
lamp for a closer look. Liza's face, peaceful in sleep, looked
softer tonight, almost vulnerable. Leaning closer, she sniffed.
Not a sign of liquor on her breath. Faith quietly removed
Liza's spectacles, placing them and the Bible on the table.
Leaning
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