Good morning and happy August!
Life has been a whirlwind these last several weeks! Writing camp has come and gone. I've worked at the County Clerk's Office, worked as an Election Judge, and spent 7.5 hours hand counting ballots after the election. (Don't worry, we only count a small percentage of the polling places.) I have a long to-do list for this month and I'm trying to work my way through it. I have written and edited, ordered proof copies of two books, worked on blog posts, started to learn how to do something new, and wished I could just read these stories that are in my brain and have yet to be written or finished.
Speaking of stories, here's one I wrote a while ago. I can't remember if it was last fall or in March. Anyway, it's been a while, so if you read it at camp perhaps you won't mind reading it again. And if you didn't read it at camp, I hope you enjoy it today.
A Man of His Word
The colored leaves crunched under his horse’s hooves. Red leaves, yellow leaves, brown leaves, orange leaves. Different shapes and colors.
But he didn’t notice.
The ferns growing beside the stream where the earth was dampest were a mixture of gold and green, and their feathery texture was a sharp contrast to the rest of the foliage on the ground.
But the rider didn’t notice.
Setting in the western sky, the autumn sun cast a golden light on the leaves and onto the waters of the river as it raced down over the rocks in a variety of waterfalls that stretched from one bank to the other.
But the rider didn’t notice.
All he noticed were the faint tracks he was following and the chill in the air. The sun would soon be gone and with it the illusion of warmth it offered.
“Please, Lord, let me find him soon.”
He rode without calling, following the footpath that ran along the bank of the river.
“Please, Lord, keep him safe. Help me find him.”
He rode for some time until the sound of the waterfall was faint behind them and all around was still. Then his sharp ears caught the sound of something or someone. A slight pressure on the reins halted his horse, and both man and animal froze.
“Why didn’t I think to bring a line so I could go fishin’?”
The voice was just through the trees.
As quietly as he could, the man slipped from the saddle and dropped the reins to the ground. He moved forward on quiet feet.
There he was.
The rider breathed a prayer of thanksgiving in his heart as he softly approached. “Ready to go home now, Robert?”
The young man addressed turned quickly and almost lost his balance. The rider quickly caught his arm and steadied him before letting go.
“I ain’t goin’ back.”
“Why not?”
Robert grunted. “You know why not. I’m no good. I’m not quick like the other boys. And I can’t do things with this bum leg of mine. It’s not good for anything.” And Robert glared down at his twisted leg.
“Seems to me you can do a lot,” the other man replied calmly. “You walked nearly three miles with that leg of yours that you say isn’t good for anything.”
“Yeah, well, I have a crutch.”
“So.”
“And I ain’t smart and quick like the other boys.”
“What boys? Last I checked you and your sister didn’t have anyone else living on the farm.”
Robert half turned away. “The boys in the village,” he muttered.
“Oh. The ones who make fun of everything they don’t understand? Yeah, well, they made fun of me too.”
“Of you, Mr. Spoke?”
“Now see here, Robert, if I’m to marry your sister in a few months time, don’t you think it’s time you stopped making me feel so old? My name’s Albert. Let’s be family, shall we?”
Robert didn’t move.
“The sun’s setting.”
Robert shrugged. “Yeah.”
“It’s getting down right chilly here by the river.”
Once again Robert shrugged. “So?”
“So I think it’s time we headed back to the house for some supper. I think Ruth was making apple pie.”
“Go ahead. No one’s keepin’ you.”
“Yes, they are.”
“Who?”
“You.”
Robert gave a snort. “I ain’t keepin’ you, Mr. Spoke.
“Albert.”
“Albert. You can just ride on back to the house and tell Ruth I left her a letter on the dresser in my room.”
“Can’t.”
This time Robert did turn. “What do you mean?”
“I mean just that. I can’t go back to the house alone.”
“Why not? Scared of my sister?”
“No. But I am a man of my word. I told your sister that I wouldn’t come back without you, so either you’ll have to come back with me or I’ll have to go along with you. Of course, if I go with you, Ruth is going to worry a mighty lot. She might ride over to the neighbors and get a search party going. And they’d find us. Then what?”
“Well, I wouldn’t go back!”
“What do you plan to do?”
“Go somewhere else.”
“Somewhere where people won’t make fun of you?”
The boy’s head dropped a little. “Yeah. And I’ll get me a job.”
“Doing what?”
Silence.
“Robert, listen to me. Just because you can’t get the same grades in school as the other boys, it doesn’t mean you are dumb. Why there are some things that you know better than any boy in town.”
“Like what?”
“How to soothe a frightened horse, how to mend a bird’s broken wing. You are also strong. I’ve seen the things you do for Ruth, and she says you didn’t have any help. That stone wall is quite impressive. I couldn’t do it. And another thing, you are patient with the young ones. Those younger children look up to you in Sunday School, Robert. They don’t see your leg or care that you can’t do some example in calculus or read Latin; you know how to share God’s truth with the younger ones so they can understand it. Don’t you see, God has given you a work to do here, Robert. Don’t throw it all away because some boys laugh. They mocked our Lord, remember?”
“But he didn’t have a gimpy leg and struggle to read and write!”
“No.” Albert’s voice was quiet. “You’re right, Robert. Jesus was perfect. There was nothing to mock, but they did it anyway. Are you better than your Lord?”
“No. But it’s hard, Mr. Spoke!”
Albert ignored the wrong name this time. “I know. Jesus never promised it would be easy. But He did promise to always be with us. Can’t you return good for evil, Robert?”
The boy sighed. “I can try. Can we go home now, Mr. Spoke?”
“Albert.”
“Albert. I’m going to have to practice on that.”
“That’s okay,” Albert said with a grin. “Let’s go get my horse.”
Together they walked slowly back to the patiently waiting horse. Albert gave the younger man a leg up and then swung himself on behind. “I sure hope Ruth hasn’t eaten all the supper and that apple pie herself!”
“She won’t have,” Robert promised. “She knew you were a man of your word and would bring me home, Mr. Spoke.”
“Albert.”
“Albert.” Robert shook his head. “I hope your horse knows the way home because I don’t.”
“Don’t worry, he does.”
Dusk settled around them as they rode quickly down the footpath and then out to the road. There it was brighter, for there were no trees to hide the light still glowing in the sky. “Thank you, Lord,” Albert prayed silently. He hadn’t been entirely sure he would be able to talk Robert into coming home.
