Love Finds a Home (Love Comes Softly Series #8) by Janette Oke Page B

desired, in Belinda's thinking.
    If he only had gone on--told the rest of the story explained the meaning of it all, Belinda grieved. But no. He stopped right there-- short, leaving his congregation to sort through the whole thing for themselves. No wonder they cannot seem to understand the meaning of the Cross, of redemption.
    Belinda felt like crying as she climbed into the carriage with her employer for the ride home.
    "Wasn't that a wonderful sermon, deah?" asked Mrs. Stafford-Smyth as soon as she had properly arranged her skirts.
    Belinda quickly turned to look at her. There was something unusual in the woman's tone. To Belinda's surprise the lady's face was shining in a way that Belinda had never seen before. Belinda could not speak. She just nodded dumbly.
    "I've heard it ovah and ovah," the older lady went on with reverent enthusiasm, "but you know ... I've nevah really understood the meaning of it befoah. This mawnin' as I listened, it all came to me just like that. Imagine! The Son of God himself dyin' in the place of me. Isn't it glorious? Most wonderful! Why, I bowed my head right there where I sat and just thanked Him ovah and ovah. I nearly had one of those--what do they call it?--revival meetings all by myself."
    Belinda stared in wonder. Mrs. Stafford-Smyth had gotten what her pastor at home would call "a good dose of old- fashioned religion"--and in a somewhat unlikely place, too. In a rather formal, staid city church.
    "Oh, Aunt Virgie!" Belinda cried, throwing her arms around the older woman. She wanted to say, That's what I've tried so hard to show you. That's what I've been praying for, working
    for, but that seemed irrelevant now. The wonderful thing was
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    that Mrs. Stafford-Smyth knew the truth for herself. I can hardly wait to write home with the good news! she exulted. She knew her folks would be nearly as excited as she was.
    "You know," the woman went on, her face still shining, "all those readings that we've been doing togethah? Do you remembah where you found them? I'd like us to read them all again--now that I think I understand what they'ah really saying. Could we?"
    "Why, of course." Belinda was thrilled to agree.
    "I can hardly wait to tell Windsah . . . and Pottah. I'll bet they don't understand it, eithah. Cook might . . . there's a feeling I have about Cook. But the girls . . . doubt if eithah of them do. Do you think they do?"
    Belinda hadn't gone that far in her thinking. She was a bit chagrined as she thought of the other household members. She had been concentrating all of her time and prayers on Mrs. Stafford-Smyth.
    "You know, we should have the whole staff gathah for the Bible-reading times," Mrs. Stafford-Smyth continued. "My, I'd just hate it terribly if any one of them right in my own house missed knowing the truth."
    Belinda could not believe her ears, but Mrs. Stafford-Smyth was still not finished.
    "That's what we'll do. Right aftah breakfast each mawnin'. We'll all meet togethah in the north pariah. You can choose the reading and then we'll talk about it."
    Belinda had a momentary qualm at the thought of leading the whole household in the morning Bible lesson. What if someone asks a difficult question? she thought. I'm certainly no theologian. It wouldn't be at all difficult for one of them to stump me--badly.
    But she nodded her head in agreement. Maybe even Mrs. Stafford-Smyth would be able to help explain some of the scriptural truths.
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    It was later that evening that Belinda was able to ask the question that had been gnawing at her all day. Seated in the cozy little parlor having tea and biscuits before retiring, Mrs. Stafford-Smyth was still enthralled with her earlier experience. Belinda listened joyfully as she talked, and then when the lady paused, Belinda posed her question.
    "What was it that made you see it--understand the truth of salvation--all of a sudden?"
    Mrs. Stafford-Smyth stopped, teacup raised almost to her lips, and thought about the question. Then