blush. “I do too.”
Andy finally spoke. “Well, the entire town would call youcrazy. I don’t blame them for feeling the way they do—I blame them for the way they handle themselves, the way they act.”
Estella nodded. “It isn’t right. They are blinded by the problems and trials of their own lives. They cannot see or feel anything else. It isn’t at all how God would have it be. God calls us to bear one another’s burdens, to help those in need, minister to those who are suffering. People seem to have forgotten all about that.”
“Well, maybe we need to remind them,” Mary Beth said sternly.
Estella met the young woman’s eyes. “Yes. Maybe we do.”
FIVE
“Baking with you is so much fun, Mrs. Nelson,” Mary Beth told the older woman as they worked to make some Christmas treats. “My mother isn’t interested in even putting up a tree this year. She’s so worried about Sammy.”
Estella pulled a pan of simmering raisins and dates from the stove and poured them into a bowl. “I’m sure she is worried. It can’t be easy to have him so far away, especially at Christmas.”
“Bing Crosby was singing ‘I’ll Be Home for Christmas’ on the radio, and I thought Mama was going to cry her eyes out. She finally stopped just before Poppy got home, but he knew just the same.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. It can’t be easy on you either. Sammy’s your only brother, right?”
Mary Beth continued kneading her dough. “Yup, he’s the only boy. He used to say having three sisters was a real pain in the neck.” She sobered and met Estella’s gaze. “But he didn’t really mean it.”
“Of course not.”
Mary Beth’s expression grew distant. “I’m scared something will happen to him. I’m afraid he’ll get hurt . . . even die. I can’t talk to Mama about it because she’s just as scared.”
“Something very well could happen, Mary Beth. It’s the way things go with war. You have to accept the fact that Sammy is in a very dangerous place and he might get hurt—might not come back.”
“I was hoping the war would be over by Christmas, like they talked about on the radio.”
“Wishful thinking,” Estella murmured. “I think that’s everyone’s favorite thing to say. Why, they were saying it after Pearl Harbor was bombed. With great patriotic indignation the boys marched off to war shouting, ‘Remember PearlHarbor!’ while their folks sat at home and said, ‘Surely it will be over by Christmas.’ Everyone needs to have hope, Mary Beth. You too. It might not be over by Christmas, but it will eventually be over and done with, and we’ll have our boys back home.”
“Some of them won’t be back.”
Estella put her arm around Mary Beth. “No. Some of them won’t be back.”
“So many of the boys from Haven and the surrounding area are dead. It won’t ever be the same, will it?”
“I suppose it won’t,” Estella replied. “But we must trust God. Even in this, He has a plan. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that. Sometimes it’s hard to have hope. But, Mary Beth, we have to have hope—hope keeps us going.”
The young woman looked to Estella. “I’ll keep having hope—if you will.”
Estella smiled. “It’s a deal.” She looked at the table and gave Mary Beth one final squeeze. “We’d better get to work or all of this will go to waste. Then we’ll have the government at our doors.”
“That’s right.” Mary Beth giggled and crossed her arms against her chest in a purposeful manner. “Waste is out! We’re at war!”
****
Andy went back to work the week before Christmas. There weren’t as many telegrams now, but they came steadily nevertheless. As the week progressed, news came of a major German offensive in the Ardennes.
“What’s that mean?” Bob Davis asked as he gave Mr. Harrison his trim. “What’s an Ardennes?”
“It’s a place, Bob,” Ralph Moore threw out, getting up to go to the wall map.
Andy sat quietly waiting his
Andy finally spoke. “Well, the entire town would call youcrazy. I don’t blame them for feeling the way they do—I blame them for the way they handle themselves, the way they act.”
Estella nodded. “It isn’t right. They are blinded by the problems and trials of their own lives. They cannot see or feel anything else. It isn’t at all how God would have it be. God calls us to bear one another’s burdens, to help those in need, minister to those who are suffering. People seem to have forgotten all about that.”
“Well, maybe we need to remind them,” Mary Beth said sternly.
Estella met the young woman’s eyes. “Yes. Maybe we do.”
FIVE
“Baking with you is so much fun, Mrs. Nelson,” Mary Beth told the older woman as they worked to make some Christmas treats. “My mother isn’t interested in even putting up a tree this year. She’s so worried about Sammy.”
Estella pulled a pan of simmering raisins and dates from the stove and poured them into a bowl. “I’m sure she is worried. It can’t be easy to have him so far away, especially at Christmas.”
“Bing Crosby was singing ‘I’ll Be Home for Christmas’ on the radio, and I thought Mama was going to cry her eyes out. She finally stopped just before Poppy got home, but he knew just the same.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. It can’t be easy on you either. Sammy’s your only brother, right?”
Mary Beth continued kneading her dough. “Yup, he’s the only boy. He used to say having three sisters was a real pain in the neck.” She sobered and met Estella’s gaze. “But he didn’t really mean it.”
“Of course not.”
Mary Beth’s expression grew distant. “I’m scared something will happen to him. I’m afraid he’ll get hurt . . . even die. I can’t talk to Mama about it because she’s just as scared.”
“Something very well could happen, Mary Beth. It’s the way things go with war. You have to accept the fact that Sammy is in a very dangerous place and he might get hurt—might not come back.”
“I was hoping the war would be over by Christmas, like they talked about on the radio.”
“Wishful thinking,” Estella murmured. “I think that’s everyone’s favorite thing to say. Why, they were saying it after Pearl Harbor was bombed. With great patriotic indignation the boys marched off to war shouting, ‘Remember PearlHarbor!’ while their folks sat at home and said, ‘Surely it will be over by Christmas.’ Everyone needs to have hope, Mary Beth. You too. It might not be over by Christmas, but it will eventually be over and done with, and we’ll have our boys back home.”
“Some of them won’t be back.”
Estella put her arm around Mary Beth. “No. Some of them won’t be back.”
“So many of the boys from Haven and the surrounding area are dead. It won’t ever be the same, will it?”
“I suppose it won’t,” Estella replied. “But we must trust God. Even in this, He has a plan. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that. Sometimes it’s hard to have hope. But, Mary Beth, we have to have hope—hope keeps us going.”
The young woman looked to Estella. “I’ll keep having hope—if you will.”
Estella smiled. “It’s a deal.” She looked at the table and gave Mary Beth one final squeeze. “We’d better get to work or all of this will go to waste. Then we’ll have the government at our doors.”
“That’s right.” Mary Beth giggled and crossed her arms against her chest in a purposeful manner. “Waste is out! We’re at war!”
****
Andy went back to work the week before Christmas. There weren’t as many telegrams now, but they came steadily nevertheless. As the week progressed, news came of a major German offensive in the Ardennes.
“What’s that mean?” Bob Davis asked as he gave Mr. Harrison his trim. “What’s an Ardennes?”
“It’s a place, Bob,” Ralph Moore threw out, getting up to go to the wall map.
Andy sat quietly waiting his
Similar Books
