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Authors: Kim Vogel Sawyer
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discuss that part of her past life – it was over, it couldn’t be changed, and it needed to stay buried. As a teacher, she intended to make sure none of her students ever suffered the same fate as her illiterate father. “I wrote to Missy, asking her forgiveness, but now . . .” She bit her lip as another wave of guilt threatened to overwhelm her.
“Miss Amsel, if there’s one lesson I’ve learned more’n any other, it’s worry don’t add one day to our lives.” The woman marched forward and gave Edythe’s shoulders a squeeze. “All the stewin’ in the world won’t change the fact that your sister decided she wasn’t going to stay put. Stewin’ won’t find her. Stewin’ won’t do nothin’ more than give you dyspepsia.”
Despite herself, Edythe laughed. “Mrs. Kinsley . . .”
The woman put on an innocent face. “You think I’m funnin’ you? I’ve had my share of dyspepsia spells, an’ I can tell you from experience, they don’t do a body any good.” She smiled. “Listen, young’uns do foolish things. Your sister’s young – impetuous, yes?”
Edythe gave a hesitant nod. Missy was prone to rash behavior. Sometimes Edythe thought she behaved impulsively to garner Pa’s attention – to make him think about someone other than himself.
Mrs. Kinsley continued. “Could it be that in the time it took your brother’s letter to get from there to here, she already realized her foolishness an’ went on home?”
A bubble of hope bounced through Edythe’s chest. “I . . . I suppose it’s possible.”
“Then that’s what we’re gonna hang on to.” Mrs. Kinsley slung her arm around Edythe’s waist and led her toward the kitchen. “ ’Til we hear otherwise, we’re gonna pray, believin’ that your sister is safe an’ sound.”
They sat at the table and Mrs. Kinsley asked a blessing for the food. The woman added, “An’ thank You, Lord, for keepin’ Missy safe – we trust You to take care of that girl, since we can’t. Amen.”
Mrs. Kinsley filled Edythe’s plate to overflowing with oven-browned vegetables and tender slices of beef. Although the food was cold from sitting so long neglected, Edythe found it surprisingly flavorful, and her stomach growled in anticipation. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”
Mrs. Kinsley harrumphed. “Considerin’ you hardly ate two bites last night an’ slept through breakfast this mornin’, I’m not surprised.” Then she grinned. “But seein’ you eat good now tells me you’re lettin’ loose of your worry for Missy.”
Should she be eating when she didn’t know if Missy was at this very moment going hungry? She lowered her fork.
“You stop that right now.” The woman’s sharp words startled Edythe. The landlady pointed to Edythe’s plate with her fork. “Don’t just sit there starin’ at your plate. Eat up.” When Edythe didn’t reach for her fork, Mrs. Kinsley snapped, “Is not eatin’ gonna make any difference for Missy? ’Course not – it’ll only make you sick. Gal as thin as you can’t afford to be skippin’ meals. So eat.” She gentled her voice. “Things’re gonna be fine – you mark my words.”
Desire to believe Mrs. Kinsley’s proclamation created a pressure in Edythe’s breast. “How can you be so sure?”
“We placed your sister in God’s hands. He’s capable of takin’ care of her better than you or me or anybody else could.” Mrs. Kinsley went back to eating, unconcerned.
Edythe forced herself to lift her fork to her mouth. But while she chewed and swallowed, eating by rote rather than for pleasure, she replayed her landlady’s words. “ We placed your sister in God’s hands . . .” “We” intimated Edythe had done so, too, but she had no concept of what it meant to place something in God’s hands.
Chapter
EIGHT
By midweek, Edythe began to question the wisdom of visiting all her pupils’ folks. She still believed becoming acquainted with each family was a good idea, but
“Miss Amsel, if there’s one lesson I’ve learned more’n any other, it’s worry don’t add one day to our lives.” The woman marched forward and gave Edythe’s shoulders a squeeze. “All the stewin’ in the world won’t change the fact that your sister decided she wasn’t going to stay put. Stewin’ won’t find her. Stewin’ won’t do nothin’ more than give you dyspepsia.”
Despite herself, Edythe laughed. “Mrs. Kinsley . . .”
The woman put on an innocent face. “You think I’m funnin’ you? I’ve had my share of dyspepsia spells, an’ I can tell you from experience, they don’t do a body any good.” She smiled. “Listen, young’uns do foolish things. Your sister’s young – impetuous, yes?”
Edythe gave a hesitant nod. Missy was prone to rash behavior. Sometimes Edythe thought she behaved impulsively to garner Pa’s attention – to make him think about someone other than himself.
Mrs. Kinsley continued. “Could it be that in the time it took your brother’s letter to get from there to here, she already realized her foolishness an’ went on home?”
A bubble of hope bounced through Edythe’s chest. “I . . . I suppose it’s possible.”
“Then that’s what we’re gonna hang on to.” Mrs. Kinsley slung her arm around Edythe’s waist and led her toward the kitchen. “ ’Til we hear otherwise, we’re gonna pray, believin’ that your sister is safe an’ sound.”
They sat at the table and Mrs. Kinsley asked a blessing for the food. The woman added, “An’ thank You, Lord, for keepin’ Missy safe – we trust You to take care of that girl, since we can’t. Amen.”
Mrs. Kinsley filled Edythe’s plate to overflowing with oven-browned vegetables and tender slices of beef. Although the food was cold from sitting so long neglected, Edythe found it surprisingly flavorful, and her stomach growled in anticipation. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”
Mrs. Kinsley harrumphed. “Considerin’ you hardly ate two bites last night an’ slept through breakfast this mornin’, I’m not surprised.” Then she grinned. “But seein’ you eat good now tells me you’re lettin’ loose of your worry for Missy.”
Should she be eating when she didn’t know if Missy was at this very moment going hungry? She lowered her fork.
“You stop that right now.” The woman’s sharp words startled Edythe. The landlady pointed to Edythe’s plate with her fork. “Don’t just sit there starin’ at your plate. Eat up.” When Edythe didn’t reach for her fork, Mrs. Kinsley snapped, “Is not eatin’ gonna make any difference for Missy? ’Course not – it’ll only make you sick. Gal as thin as you can’t afford to be skippin’ meals. So eat.” She gentled her voice. “Things’re gonna be fine – you mark my words.”
Desire to believe Mrs. Kinsley’s proclamation created a pressure in Edythe’s breast. “How can you be so sure?”
“We placed your sister in God’s hands. He’s capable of takin’ care of her better than you or me or anybody else could.” Mrs. Kinsley went back to eating, unconcerned.
Edythe forced herself to lift her fork to her mouth. But while she chewed and swallowed, eating by rote rather than for pleasure, she replayed her landlady’s words. “ We placed your sister in God’s hands . . .” “We” intimated Edythe had done so, too, but she had no concept of what it meant to place something in God’s hands.
Chapter
EIGHT
By midweek, Edythe began to question the wisdom of visiting all her pupils’ folks. She still believed becoming acquainted with each family was a good idea, but
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