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Authors: Kim Vogel Sawyer
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so I said I’d be proud to host the new schoolmarm.”
Mrs. Kinsley laughed softly. “Now, it’s not that I think of you as a child – it’s plain to see you’re a woman grown – but you were needin’ a roof over your head, an’ I provided it.” Her eyes flew wide. “But don’t think I did it out of hopin’ to earn a crown or to add a few dollars to my bank account.”
Although Edythe had only known Mrs. Kinsley for a week, she already knew the woman was not selfish. Crusty, perhaps, but not selfish. Edythe hung her head. “You aren’t selfish. But I am.”
“You?” The word blasted out on a note of incredulity. “Why, you’re a schoolmarm – givin’ your time an’ talent to a passel of youngsters. Why’n thunder would you say you were selfish?”
The tears Edythe had tried to squelch returned to pour down her cheeks in warm rivulets. “I did a terrible thing. I – I left home, and I left my sister behind.” Once the words started, she couldn’t control them any more than the tears that continued to rain down her face. “Missy is fourteen, the same age I was when my mother died. Being the oldest, I took over our entire household at fourteen. Missy was only a baby then, and I had four other siblings besides.”
“Land sakes.” Mrs. Kinsley’s blue eyes grew round. “That’s a fearsome load for a young girl.”
Edythe nodded, gulping. “It was hard, being ma to my brothers and sisters. Especially when Pa . . .” She shook her head, dispelling unpleasant memories. “The children might as well have been mine alone for all the attention he paid them.”
Mrs. Kinsley slipped her arm around Edythe again and gave her several pats. “Sounds to me like you’ve been earnin’ your crown, too.”
Edythe jolted away from the woman’s kind touch. “I don’t deserve a crown. As soon as Missy was old enough – the very age at which I was forced to grow up – I left her. All the others were out on their own. I decided not to wait until Missy grew up. I’d given my family fourteen years already . . . half of my life . . .”
Edythe paused, her mind tripping through the years of service, the years of waiting until she could grasp freedom from the responsibilities thrust upon her far too soon. “So despite my father’s endless pleas for me to stay home and care for Missy and for him, I earned my teaching certificate and I left. I left them all behind.”
Guilt sent her pacing the room, a feeble attempt to escape its clutches. “And now my brother Justus wrote to tell me Missy ran away. I’d asked Justus and his wife to keep her, but . . . but she missed me, so she ran away. No one knows where she is.” Worry and fear struck like lightning, nearly driving Edythe to her knees. “She’s only fourteen – a mere child, the same age as dear Martha Sterbinz. How could I have been so selfish? Why didn’t I stay?”
Mrs. Kinsley came at Edythe with open arms, wrapping her in a tight embrace. Edythe clung to the older woman, grateful for her understanding. She sniffed hard while Mrs. Kinsley rubbed her back.
“Don’t you go blamin’ yourself. Seems to me you gave your family plenty – more’n most would’ve done.” The encouraging contact of the woman’s warm palm was a healing balm to Edythe’s aching soul. “You need to be proud of the way you stepped in an’ played mama for your brothers an’ sisters. As for Missy . . .” Mrs. Kinsley took hold of Edythe’s shoulders and set her aside. “We’ll just be prayin’ that she comes to her senses an’ goes home.”
Edythe began pacing again. “She’ll never go home. Not to Pa. He’s so . . .” Edythe came to a stop. She sought an appropriate word. “Bitter. He wears one down with his constant melancholy.”
“Losin’ his wife like he did could bitter a man,” Mrs. Kinsley said.
Edythe shook her head. “It wasn’t losing Mama that soured him. It was something much less important.” But Edythe had no desire to
Mrs. Kinsley laughed softly. “Now, it’s not that I think of you as a child – it’s plain to see you’re a woman grown – but you were needin’ a roof over your head, an’ I provided it.” Her eyes flew wide. “But don’t think I did it out of hopin’ to earn a crown or to add a few dollars to my bank account.”
Although Edythe had only known Mrs. Kinsley for a week, she already knew the woman was not selfish. Crusty, perhaps, but not selfish. Edythe hung her head. “You aren’t selfish. But I am.”
“You?” The word blasted out on a note of incredulity. “Why, you’re a schoolmarm – givin’ your time an’ talent to a passel of youngsters. Why’n thunder would you say you were selfish?”
The tears Edythe had tried to squelch returned to pour down her cheeks in warm rivulets. “I did a terrible thing. I – I left home, and I left my sister behind.” Once the words started, she couldn’t control them any more than the tears that continued to rain down her face. “Missy is fourteen, the same age I was when my mother died. Being the oldest, I took over our entire household at fourteen. Missy was only a baby then, and I had four other siblings besides.”
“Land sakes.” Mrs. Kinsley’s blue eyes grew round. “That’s a fearsome load for a young girl.”
Edythe nodded, gulping. “It was hard, being ma to my brothers and sisters. Especially when Pa . . .” She shook her head, dispelling unpleasant memories. “The children might as well have been mine alone for all the attention he paid them.”
Mrs. Kinsley slipped her arm around Edythe again and gave her several pats. “Sounds to me like you’ve been earnin’ your crown, too.”
Edythe jolted away from the woman’s kind touch. “I don’t deserve a crown. As soon as Missy was old enough – the very age at which I was forced to grow up – I left her. All the others were out on their own. I decided not to wait until Missy grew up. I’d given my family fourteen years already . . . half of my life . . .”
Edythe paused, her mind tripping through the years of service, the years of waiting until she could grasp freedom from the responsibilities thrust upon her far too soon. “So despite my father’s endless pleas for me to stay home and care for Missy and for him, I earned my teaching certificate and I left. I left them all behind.”
Guilt sent her pacing the room, a feeble attempt to escape its clutches. “And now my brother Justus wrote to tell me Missy ran away. I’d asked Justus and his wife to keep her, but . . . but she missed me, so she ran away. No one knows where she is.” Worry and fear struck like lightning, nearly driving Edythe to her knees. “She’s only fourteen – a mere child, the same age as dear Martha Sterbinz. How could I have been so selfish? Why didn’t I stay?”
Mrs. Kinsley came at Edythe with open arms, wrapping her in a tight embrace. Edythe clung to the older woman, grateful for her understanding. She sniffed hard while Mrs. Kinsley rubbed her back.
“Don’t you go blamin’ yourself. Seems to me you gave your family plenty – more’n most would’ve done.” The encouraging contact of the woman’s warm palm was a healing balm to Edythe’s aching soul. “You need to be proud of the way you stepped in an’ played mama for your brothers an’ sisters. As for Missy . . .” Mrs. Kinsley took hold of Edythe’s shoulders and set her aside. “We’ll just be prayin’ that she comes to her senses an’ goes home.”
Edythe began pacing again. “She’ll never go home. Not to Pa. He’s so . . .” Edythe came to a stop. She sought an appropriate word. “Bitter. He wears one down with his constant melancholy.”
“Losin’ his wife like he did could bitter a man,” Mrs. Kinsley said.
Edythe shook her head. “It wasn’t losing Mama that soured him. It was something much less important.” But Edythe had no desire to
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