Read Online The Hesitant Hero by Gilbert Morris - Free Book Online
Authors: Gilbert Morris
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Birthday Party
The shrill wind howled as Jolie Vernay made her way toward the green house set back off the road. She had to lean against the strong wind while sleet bit at her cheeks. It was about a kilometer from the orphanage to the house, and she normally enjoyed the walk, but today her feet and cheeks, and even her hands, despite the wool gloves, were growing numb.
The sleet swept over the street, and as Jolie turned off the main road and walked quickly toward the house, she looked forward to the evening ahead—good food, warmth, and rest. She had returned from the United States too late to start an internship immediately, but she would begin the following fall at the hospital in Clermont-Ferrand, a city not far from the village where she had lived most of her life.
In the meantime, she had accepted a post as a half-time staff physician and half-time secretary at the large orphanage in town. She found the work very satisfying as well as a welcome relief from the stress of working in the emergency room in New York. She still carried some of that stress with her.
Opening the door, she stepped inside, took off her boots, and slipped her feet into warm house slippers. She took off her hat and coat, wet and heavy with sleet, hung them on the coat-tree, and took a deep breath. Good to be home. She went down the hall and into the kitchen. The good smell of food cooking was in the air, and her mother was standing by the stove.
“Hello, Maman. ”
“Ah, you are back. Go stand in front of the fire and thaw yourself out. It’s cold enough to freeze an Eskimo.”
“Yes, it is very cold.”
Marvel Vernay did not look her forty-six years. Her hair was the same brown as that of her daughter, and her eyes were the same blue. She was small, but her posture was so erect she appeared taller. Her cheeks were flushed by the heat of the stove, and as she smiled at Jolie, she exposed perfect white teeth. “Did you have a good day?”
“Very good. We’ve got the chicken pox epidemic brought to a standstill, I think.”
“Chicken pox is difficult, but it’s not as bad as some other things that children can get.”
“You’re right. Thank God.”
As the two women shared the details of their days, and as Jolie thawed out, she began to set the table with the fine china. “We never use plain dishes,” she commented, “always this expensive china even for just the two of us. Why is that, Maman?”
Marvel smiled. “There are so many things in this world that we can’t have, so the things we can have, I intend to use. They are only dishes. If we break one, it doesn’t matter. Now, you make the tea while I take the roast out of the oven.” A knock at the door interrupted her words.
“Are you expecting someone, Maman?”
“No. Not that I know of. It’s probably Madame Dalon from next door. She probably needs to borrow something for supper.”
Walking to the door with quick steps, Madame Vernay opened it, but instead of finding her neighbor, she saw a tall man holding a large suitcase.
“Madame Vernay?”
“ Oui, I am Madame Vernay.”
“My name is Tyler Winslow.” He spoke French with a heavy accent and seemed to be searching for the words heneeded. “I am a friend of your daughter. We met in New York. I wonder if she’s at home.”
“Why, yes, indeed. Come in, Monsieur Winslow. Bring your things with you. They’ll freeze solid out here.” Marvel stepped back as the man entered. “I remember my daughter wrote me about you,” she said with a smile. “But she didn’t tell me you were coming.”
“I didn’t really know myself, Madame Vernay.”
“Well, put your things down, take off your coat, and we’ll surprise her.” Marvel waited until he had hung up his coat and stomped his feet on the mat before leading him down the hall. Turning into the kitchen, she said, “Jolie, a surprise for you. A visitor.”
Jolie turned, and Marvel saw her eyes open wide and her lips part with astonishment.
The shrill wind howled as Jolie Vernay made her way toward the green house set back off the road. She had to lean against the strong wind while sleet bit at her cheeks. It was about a kilometer from the orphanage to the house, and she normally enjoyed the walk, but today her feet and cheeks, and even her hands, despite the wool gloves, were growing numb.
The sleet swept over the street, and as Jolie turned off the main road and walked quickly toward the house, she looked forward to the evening ahead—good food, warmth, and rest. She had returned from the United States too late to start an internship immediately, but she would begin the following fall at the hospital in Clermont-Ferrand, a city not far from the village where she had lived most of her life.
In the meantime, she had accepted a post as a half-time staff physician and half-time secretary at the large orphanage in town. She found the work very satisfying as well as a welcome relief from the stress of working in the emergency room in New York. She still carried some of that stress with her.
Opening the door, she stepped inside, took off her boots, and slipped her feet into warm house slippers. She took off her hat and coat, wet and heavy with sleet, hung them on the coat-tree, and took a deep breath. Good to be home. She went down the hall and into the kitchen. The good smell of food cooking was in the air, and her mother was standing by the stove.
“Hello, Maman. ”
“Ah, you are back. Go stand in front of the fire and thaw yourself out. It’s cold enough to freeze an Eskimo.”
“Yes, it is very cold.”
Marvel Vernay did not look her forty-six years. Her hair was the same brown as that of her daughter, and her eyes were the same blue. She was small, but her posture was so erect she appeared taller. Her cheeks were flushed by the heat of the stove, and as she smiled at Jolie, she exposed perfect white teeth. “Did you have a good day?”
“Very good. We’ve got the chicken pox epidemic brought to a standstill, I think.”
“Chicken pox is difficult, but it’s not as bad as some other things that children can get.”
“You’re right. Thank God.”
As the two women shared the details of their days, and as Jolie thawed out, she began to set the table with the fine china. “We never use plain dishes,” she commented, “always this expensive china even for just the two of us. Why is that, Maman?”
Marvel smiled. “There are so many things in this world that we can’t have, so the things we can have, I intend to use. They are only dishes. If we break one, it doesn’t matter. Now, you make the tea while I take the roast out of the oven.” A knock at the door interrupted her words.
“Are you expecting someone, Maman?”
“No. Not that I know of. It’s probably Madame Dalon from next door. She probably needs to borrow something for supper.”
Walking to the door with quick steps, Madame Vernay opened it, but instead of finding her neighbor, she saw a tall man holding a large suitcase.
“Madame Vernay?”
“ Oui, I am Madame Vernay.”
“My name is Tyler Winslow.” He spoke French with a heavy accent and seemed to be searching for the words heneeded. “I am a friend of your daughter. We met in New York. I wonder if she’s at home.”
“Why, yes, indeed. Come in, Monsieur Winslow. Bring your things with you. They’ll freeze solid out here.” Marvel stepped back as the man entered. “I remember my daughter wrote me about you,” she said with a smile. “But she didn’t tell me you were coming.”
“I didn’t really know myself, Madame Vernay.”
“Well, put your things down, take off your coat, and we’ll surprise her.” Marvel waited until he had hung up his coat and stomped his feet on the mat before leading him down the hall. Turning into the kitchen, she said, “Jolie, a surprise for you. A visitor.”
Jolie turned, and Marvel saw her eyes open wide and her lips part with astonishment.
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