Read Online Substitute Guest by Grace Livingston Hill - Free Book Online
Authors: Grace Livingston Hill
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for them to carry far, and the visibility was poor. But he gazed as long as he could, for it seemed he was leaving a house where God presided. And yet, God had come along with them, out into the storm. His storm, His snow, His cold, the old man had said.
He could not see the face of the girl now, but it was there; he knew it was there watching them out into the white peril, and there were tears, perhaps, upon her face. But she was strong and brave. He could see that. They were all strong and brave. It was their nearness to God that made them so. It was this that sent their son out to accept the challenge for this errand.
Now he could no longer see the house, the whiteness was too dense, and the snow stung his eyes so that he could scarcely keep them open, even bundled as he was, and so he turned almost blindly to plod on into the storm. He had staked his life, and the hour was moving on toward six. Would they make it in time? Would they ever come back alive, or would there be three lives lost instead of one?
Chapter 4
R uth Latimer had been too busy all day to look out at the snow. She had come from her boardinghouse to the church during the early stages of the storm, and being shut within stained-glass windows she had no realization of what a few apparently idle flakes of snow could do in a few brief hours.
Ruth was the daughter of a Christian missionary, who, with his wife, had died during their early ministry when Ruth was a tiny child, and she had been sent home to her grandmother. But now the grandmother was gone also, and Ruth was practically alone in the world, with only a very small income. She had come to Collamer in the fall to teach in the public kindergarten, had become acquainted with the Devereauxs through attending the same church, and the three young people had seen quite a little of one another. It had been a great joy to Ruth to be invited to spend this first lonely Christmas since her grandmother’s death in a real home instead of a boardinghouse, and she cherished every minute of the anticipated visit. So it had been a disappointment to discover that the ladies of the church had arranged to give the little children’s classes in the Sunday school their Christmas treat on the day before Christmas, and of course they expected the teacher to be present, and to help in the preparations. For Ruth was not only teaching the kindergarten in day school, but also had charge of the youngsters in the beginners’ department of the Sunday school. So instead of going to the Devereaux house early on the day before Christmas as she would have liked to do, and as they had asked her to do, she had to go over to the church to help prepare for the children who were scheduled to appear at half past two for a couple of hours of undiluted happiness.
Ruth had packed a small suitcase and taken it with her, taking the precaution to ask her landlady for a couple of sandwiches so that she would not have to stop and run back for her lunch, as the boardinghouse was at some distance from the church. Lance had said his car would be brought over for her to drive straight to his house from the church, so that she would have to waste no more time than was necessary.
But when she arrived at the church, fearing she was a little late, she found that none of the other ladies and no other teachers were there. The janitor had just come, and the church wasn’t very warm yet. She had to keep her coat on while she worked.
She had brought several games and a lot of material for a good time, and for the first half hour she busied herself arranging that. Then on the long blackboard that ran the length of the room, she drew a picture of Bethlehem to use with a story she was going to tell the children. She made it much more elaborate than she had intended, sketching in a hint of glory in the sky, and angels hovering above awed shepherds and sleeping sheep. She lingered over the picture to make it realistic because there seemed nothing else to
He could not see the face of the girl now, but it was there; he knew it was there watching them out into the white peril, and there were tears, perhaps, upon her face. But she was strong and brave. He could see that. They were all strong and brave. It was their nearness to God that made them so. It was this that sent their son out to accept the challenge for this errand.
Now he could no longer see the house, the whiteness was too dense, and the snow stung his eyes so that he could scarcely keep them open, even bundled as he was, and so he turned almost blindly to plod on into the storm. He had staked his life, and the hour was moving on toward six. Would they make it in time? Would they ever come back alive, or would there be three lives lost instead of one?
Chapter 4
R uth Latimer had been too busy all day to look out at the snow. She had come from her boardinghouse to the church during the early stages of the storm, and being shut within stained-glass windows she had no realization of what a few apparently idle flakes of snow could do in a few brief hours.
Ruth was the daughter of a Christian missionary, who, with his wife, had died during their early ministry when Ruth was a tiny child, and she had been sent home to her grandmother. But now the grandmother was gone also, and Ruth was practically alone in the world, with only a very small income. She had come to Collamer in the fall to teach in the public kindergarten, had become acquainted with the Devereauxs through attending the same church, and the three young people had seen quite a little of one another. It had been a great joy to Ruth to be invited to spend this first lonely Christmas since her grandmother’s death in a real home instead of a boardinghouse, and she cherished every minute of the anticipated visit. So it had been a disappointment to discover that the ladies of the church had arranged to give the little children’s classes in the Sunday school their Christmas treat on the day before Christmas, and of course they expected the teacher to be present, and to help in the preparations. For Ruth was not only teaching the kindergarten in day school, but also had charge of the youngsters in the beginners’ department of the Sunday school. So instead of going to the Devereaux house early on the day before Christmas as she would have liked to do, and as they had asked her to do, she had to go over to the church to help prepare for the children who were scheduled to appear at half past two for a couple of hours of undiluted happiness.
Ruth had packed a small suitcase and taken it with her, taking the precaution to ask her landlady for a couple of sandwiches so that she would not have to stop and run back for her lunch, as the boardinghouse was at some distance from the church. Lance had said his car would be brought over for her to drive straight to his house from the church, so that she would have to waste no more time than was necessary.
But when she arrived at the church, fearing she was a little late, she found that none of the other ladies and no other teachers were there. The janitor had just come, and the church wasn’t very warm yet. She had to keep her coat on while she worked.
She had brought several games and a lot of material for a good time, and for the first half hour she busied herself arranging that. Then on the long blackboard that ran the length of the room, she drew a picture of Bethlehem to use with a story she was going to tell the children. She made it much more elaborate than she had intended, sketching in a hint of glory in the sky, and angels hovering above awed shepherds and sleeping sheep. She lingered over the picture to make it realistic because there seemed nothing else to
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