Peter's Christmas - Part 1

Happy 9th of December!
I wanted to post more this week, but besides posting on Monday, it just didn't happen. I was much too busy trying to get other things done and fighting a bad cold. My cold is almost gone now, for which I'm very thankful. (It's hard to sing in a choir when you have a cold.) And I've gotten a lot of my bigger things done. For now at least. :P Maybe next week I can post more often. ;) Though you can check out my posts on Read Another Page as I'm posting reviews on Christmas stories and movies on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

Now, before you start this story, I need to tell you a little of the history of it.
It all started last autumn. It wasn't Thanksgiving yet and I was trying really hard to get a quilt done for a someone who had asked me to make them one. (Believe me, it's not a usual project to make an entire quilt. Doing the hand quilting, sure, but not the rest.) Anyway, I was sewing the binding on and my sister had the radio playing. We were listening to WCPE with their lovely classical music. A song came on, and I have no idea who wrote it or what it was, but I could hear words. (It was all instrumental.) Someone was calling Peter! I could hear it as clearly as though it were written out. "Peter! Peee–ter!" Then some other lovely music would fill the air before the call came again. And again. When I told my sister, she gave me that look. The one that says, "You're crazy." But I heard it. And I wondered why they were calling for Peter, and and who was calling.
So, a few days later, with that call still in my mind, I sat down and wrote "Peter's Christmas" and discovered the answers to my questions.
I hope you enjoy it.

Peter's Christmas

Part 1

    “Peter! Pe–ter!”

    I heard the call as I shut off the engine and opened the door of my truck. “What are they listening to on the radio?” I thought, glancing towards the house. It was a warm December evening, not the kind of weather you think of when you know that tomorrow will be Christmas Eve.

    Mounting the steps to the long front porch, I heard the call again.

    “Peter. Pe–ter!”

    That’s when I realized that the call didn’t come from the house but from the woods. Turning, I scanned the tree line in every direction but saw nothing. Who was Peter and why was he being called?

    “Peter! Pe–ter! The second call had a rising inflection in it, almost as though the name were being sung.

    “Strange,” I thought, opening the screen door. “I don’t remember anyone named Peter living around here.” I racked my brain trying to think of a family with someone of that name, but every time I came up blank. There just weren’t any Peters unless one was new to the area.

    “Peter. Pe–” The name was interrupted by a slight cry as though of pain.

    Quickly opening the door, I stepped inside. “John, Charles,” I called my sons. “Get the lantern and a flashlight. I think someone’s in the woods and needs help.”

    “Can I come too, Daddy,” my fifteen-year-old daughter, Dorothy, begged.

    Knowing that the one who had been calling was probably a girl, I nodded. “Get your jacket, the sun’s going down.”

    In less than ten minutes the four of us were crossing the road and entering the dark woods beyond.

    “Hello!” I called, hoping the woman would answer.

    “Peter!”

    We plunged deeper into the woods toward the sound of the voice, and soon our lights fell on the form of a young woman half lying on the ground.

    “Ma’am, what happened?” I asked.

    The young woman lifted a pain filled face. I could see a large scrape down one side of it. “I can’t find Peter,” she sniffed. “And then I stepped in a hole or something, and my ankle turned. Help me find Peter!”

    John had knelt beside her. “Did you get that scratch when you fell?”

    “I suppose so,” replied the woman, putting a hand up and gingerly touching her face. “I don’t know. I’m been searching the woods for over an hour.” There was a whimper in her voice, a sound of defeat and despair.

    “My name’s John Hampton. That’s my father, my brother Charles, and my sister Dorothy. Can you walk?”

    The girl shook her head. “I can’t get up. My name is Virginia Stone. But I have to find Peter. Could you help me up? Maybe I can walk if I can just get to my feet.”

    When John glanced up at me, I silently shook my head and nodded back towards the house. If the woman had injured her ankle, it needed proper attention. Besides, she only had on a light jacket and, even if the weather was unusually warm for the twenty-third of December, it was getting colder now that the sun had fully set.

    “Virginia,” I said, “we’re going to take you back to our house; it’s not far, and then you can tell us about Peter, and we’ll look for him.”

    For a moment I thought the woman would refuse, for she closed her eyes and stiffened. “I suppose it would help if I had a few more people looking for him.” She put an arm about John’s neck without a protest and let him lift her.

    John was in the army. He’d been called up just after Pearl Harbor but hadn’t been sent overseas. Instead he’d been stationed at the camp near our home as an instructor. Since he lived so close to home, he had managed to get a four day leave to spend the holidays at home, and now, as he easily lifted and carried the young woman with no apparent effort, I was thankful he was home. I missed having my eldest son around all the time.

    Back at the house, John set Virginia on the couch and then moved back so his mother could attend to our guest. It took but a moment before my wife looked around. “John, run next door and phone Dr. Brown. This ankle is badly wrenched.”

    “Yes, ma’am.” John started at once for the door, and I followed him to the porch.

    “John,” I said, lowering my voice, “phone the sheriff as well and let him know we’ve got a missing person. It wouldn’t hurt to round up a few more men either. I’ll see if I can find out more about Peter before you get back.”

    John nodded, took the steps in a single bound, and started off at a rapid dog trot down the road. I knew it wouldn’t take him long to reach the neighbor’s, and I wished again that our telephone line had been repaired. A storm five days ago had knocked it out, and there weren’t a lot of repair men in our area.

    Stepping inside again, I was accosted by the agitated voice of our visitor. “Please,” she begged, “we have to find Peter!”

    I nodded. “We will. How old is he and what does he look like?” I perched on the arm of a chair and glanced about the room. All the children were there except John; Charles, Dorothy, Ruth and Alice. My wife, Mary, sat beside the young woman and dabbed away the blood from her scraped face.

    “Peter is only six,” Virginia said. “He’s all I have left. You see, Mama died when Peter was just a baby, and Papa was sent overseas–he was a member of the reserves and got called up after Pearl Harbor.” She flinched. “He was killed in action three months ago. Peter’s all I have left,” she repeated in a whisper.

    Though my heart went out to the young woman who was no more than a girl herself, I kept my focus on the missing boy. “Where do you live?” I hoped this might help us in finding Peter.

Where is Peter?

Have you ever helped look for a missing child?

Will you be back next Friday for the next part of this story? 

Join the fun and read other posts from the "12 Days of Christmas" by clicking on the image.

Christmas Delays - Part 2

Happy 5th of December!
I hope you enjoy this conclusion to this Christmas story. Keep checking this blog because I'm not sure when I'll post something next. ;)

Christmas Delays

Part 2

    Linda introduced herself and found out the woman’s name was Alice. Her husband was somewhere in France. The three children spoke not a word but stared wide eyed. After Linda had helped Alice to the bed, she asked about wood for the fireplace.
    “We don’t have much left,” Alice whispered. “I haven’t been able to go get more, and Teddy isn’t old enough to send.” She moved restlessly. “What we have is through that door.” She motioned toward a door near the stove.
    In a very few minutes more, Linda was building a fire, and Dave came in. He pulled his coat off and rolled up his sleeves. Noticing a curtain hanging on a wire stretched across the room, he pulled it shut to try to warm up the makeshift bedroom. Motioning to his wife, he stepped to one side.
    “Honey, I brought the basket of food in. Can you heat up some water and give the children some food?” The youngest child had begun to cry when she could no longer see her mother.
    Linda nodded with a smile. Her experience of being the oldest in a large family stood her well now. Before long she had found out that Teddy was four years old, and he took care of his brother and sister. Bobby was three and Lori was only one. Lori cried for her mother until Linda opened the basket of food and put a cookie in her hand. While the kettle heated, Linda settled the three children around the table and began to make them some supper. Teddy informed her that Mama hadn’t gotten them any and added with childlike frankness,
    “Mama didn’t eat today either ‘cause she wasn’t feeling good. But did you know tomorrow is Christmas?”
    “I did know that, Teddy.” Linda smiled.
    Bobby had to tell his bit of news. “Daddy is gone away so we not have a Trismas tree.”
    “That’s okay,” Linda assured him. “You can have Christmas without a tree.
    Lori began to cry. Her cookie was gone. She was still hungry. Linda set a plate of food before each child and then stepped to the curtain to tell Dave the kettle was hot.
    Dave turned at sound of her voice. He spoke softly. “Make her,” he nodded toward the bed, “a cup of tea, and then can you handle things here a few minutes? We need more wood than we have. And don’t worry,” he added with a smile at her concerned look. “The baby isn’t coming yet.”
    His wife nodded.

    With a cup of tea in her hand, Linda glanced at the children who were busy eating and then slipped through the curtain over to the bed. Alice opened her eyes.
    “The little ones?” The question was low.
    A smile flashed across Linda’s face. “Are just fine. They are eating supper now and quite content. Don’t worry about them. I’m used to children. There was a whole parcel when I was growing up.” Gently she brushed the hair away from Alice’s pale face and raised her head holding the steaming cup of tea to her lips. “When was the last time you ate?”
    The answer came slowly. “Last night.”
    All was still then. The only sounds were the fire crackling in the fireplace, the noise of spoons at the table and now and then a thud of wood being set down. After a few minutes in which Alice seemed to doze off, Linda slipped back to the other side of the curtain. Dave was just coming inside. He carried a small evergreen in one hand and a bag from the car in the other. Linda’s smile when she saw him was very bright, and the children stared in astonishment.
    “She seems to be sleeping,” Linda whispered in answer to Dave’s nod of the head. “And Dave, she hasn’t eaten since last night.”
    Dave frowned. “I’m afraid this is going to be a difficult birth, Honey.” He set the tree in an empty bucket and handed his wife the bag. Then with a smile for the children, he stepped back to their mother.

    The children greatly enjoyed the decorating of that tree. From the bag, Linda brought forth some gilded pine cones, gay buttons and bright red yarn. The yarn was intended for a sweater Linda was knitting, but she decided the tree needed it more than the sweater. Dave opened the curtain a little that Alice might watch for a few minutes.
    Teddy paused suddenly and asked, “Where’s my stocking?”
    “And mine,” Bobby whispered.
    Lori just stuck her fingers in her mouth.
    Their mother heard and in a voice filled with emotion, whispered to Dave where they were. He brought them out, and Linda helped the little ones hang them up.

    It was growing late. The sun had long since gone, and the stars shone brightly in at the windows. Dave made another trip out to the car to bring in a few more of their things, for they wouldn’t be leaving that night. Linda sat in the rocking chair with Lori cuddled in a blanket in her arms while the two little boys sat at her feet. In a soft voice she told them the very first Christmas story of all. After that she began to sing. One Christmas carol after another filled the little house with its sweet sound of peace, joy and good will.
    As the boys began to nod, Dave, who had been standing by the partially opened curtain where he could keep an eye on his patient and his wife, came and tucked them into a makeshift bed on the floor beside the stove. Lori whimpered when Linda made a move as if to put her in bed as well, so with a smile, she settled back and continued rocking, her thoughts drifting back to the days of her childhood.

    “Linda!” Dave’s low but intense voice roused her some time later. Instantly she was wide awake. Quickly she placed Lori between her brothers, tucked the blanket around them and then hurried to the bedside.

    It was a long, difficult time. Linda could tell by the firm set of her husband’s jaw that things were serious. All she could do was follow orders quickly and to pray. Never once did she stop praying. Dave too was praying as he worked. This was by far the hardest delivery he had done outside of a hospital.
    At long last, just as the distant city bells were ringing out the Christmas morning, the baby arrived. A girl. Dave didn’t hear the bells, but Linda did.
    When a pale Alice reached to take the flannel bundle from Linda, she asked softly, “Did I hear the Christmas bells ringing?”
    Linda nodded. “Your little girl has come on Christmas morning.”
    Alice gave a tired smile as she snuggled the tiny bundle in her arms and gazed into the sweet little face. “Christmas bells. You are Mama’s little Christmas Belle.”

    Some time later, when Alice had fallen asleep with her new little daughter nestled in the crook of her arm, Dave and Linda slipped out to the porch. The stars were still bright in the heavens and the moon cast a silvery light over the snow. Dave looked down at his wife and smiled. He received an answering smile as he folded her in his arms; their lips met in a long kiss.
    “Dave, aren’t you glad now that we had so many delays?” Linda whispered.
    A puzzled look crossed Dave’s tired face. “What do you mean?”
    “If we hadn’t been delayed so long, that patch of ice might have melted, and we wouldn’t have stopped . . .. What would have happened?”
    Dave cringed, “I don’t even want to think of that, not on Christmas Eve.”
    Linda gave a soft little laugh. “Honey, it’s Christmas Day. The baby came right as the bells were rung. Merry Christmas, Dave! Merry Christmas. We may not have made it to my folks’ home, but we helped make this home a happy Christmas because of God’s Christmas delays.

Have you ever had delays upon delays that turned out for the best?

If you had a baby born on Christmas Mornings, what would you name her?

Do you like me posting when it isn't Friday?

Christmas Delays - Part 1

Merry 2nd of December Friday Fiction Fans!
Do you have all your decorations up? I wish we did. But, since I'm pretty much the only one who has time to do them this year . . . Yeah, it's happening a bit slowly. :) And, since I've always had a bit of trouble remembering the "odds & ends" of projects, it really feels like I can't get anything done because I keep remembering and then forgetting the little things that finish off some place. So last night I made a list. A rather long list, of all the decorating left to do. And I put down those "odds & ends" so I wouldn't forget them.
Now, if you have not been here before in December, I wanted to let you know that I don't just post on Fridays. I love Christmas, I love December, so I post here, there, and any time I want to. If yo don't want to miss a post, make sure you are following me or check back often.

My week has been a bit on the crazy side. Trying to decorate here and there, trying to read, trying to write, trying to get other things done and then releasing my new book. :) If you didn't hear about it, you can go here to find out. Here's the cover though.

Now, since it seems that everyone enjoys a WWII story, I decided to re-post this story. It was my 2nd Christmas story that I had written. I hope you enjoy it.

Christmas Delays

Part 1

    “Great! Here we are in a ditch! This is the third delay this morning!”
    A merry peal of laughter was the only response his wife gave him for a minute.
    Dave Quincey tried to frown but instead smiled wryly at his young, dark eyed wife. “At this rate we won’t make it to your folk’s house until New Year,” he grumbled good-naturedly.
    “Oh, Dave, I couldn’t help laughing. This is the fourth, not the third delay. First the alarm didn’t go off, then you got stuck talking on the phone, or listening rather, to a patient, then we had a flat tire and now we’re in a ditch.” Here she broke off to laugh again.
    It was Christmas Eve; the sun shone brightly on the snow covered trees and fields. This was Dave and Linda’s first Christmas together. Not only that, but Dave had received a notice to report to the Medical Corps for service by the 10th of January. The young couple knew well that it would only be a matter of time before Dave was sent overseas or to the Pacific  to join in the war against the power hungry Nazis and Japanese. They were determined, however, to make this a joyful Christmas, and had promised to spend it with her parents and siblings who lived hours away. They had planned to leave first thing in the morning, but first one thing and then another had delayed them. Now it was early afternoon, and they still had several hours left to travel.
    Dave sighed. “Did you tell them when we would be there?”
    Linda shook her brown head. “I didn’t know if you would have calls to make today or not. I said we’d be there before Christmas. If nothing else, we could get out and walk.” Her eyes twinkled.
    Dave grinned. It was impossible to stay upset with a wife as merry as his.
    Just then a truck slowed down and stopped in front of them. The driver got out and came back to their little car. “Do you need a hand?”
    “A pull would be more helpful I’m thinking,” Dave replied.
    The truck driver laughed. “I’ve got a chain. I’ll have you out in no time. Just wait there.”
    True to his word, within five minutes the truck had pulled them out of the ditch. With a hearty thanks and an exchange of Merry Christmas! they went on their way.

    “I can’t believe we are actually going to spend Christmas with my folks,” Linda’s voice showed her excitement.
    “Now Honey,” Dave spoke gravely though the corners of his mouth twitched, and when he glanced at his wife, his eyes twinkled. “Don’t get too excited, we have three more tires that may need changed.”
    “And miles of ditches to get stuck in,” she retorted gaily. “Oh, I didn’t tell you that the boys are planing a snowball fight if the snow doesn’t all melt. I have a feeling you’ll be initiated into the Stephens Sibling Secret Society sometime during our stay.”
    “And what might that be?”
    Linda shook her head with a laugh. “Oh, I can’t say. I just thought I’d give you a little heads up warning so to speak.”
    The car continued down the snowy road filled with merry talk, bright laughter and many an affectionate word. After a time, the sun which had been shining so brightly in its effort to melt the snow, disappeared behind a large bank of clouds that were piling up in the west, and the temperature began to drop.
    “I wonder if we’ll get more snow,” Linda mused, her eyes on the clouds.
    “We already have snow. What would we do with more?”
    “You never can have too much snow for Christmas.”
    Dave grunted, his eyes on the road before them. “I’ll remind you of that when we get caught out here in a blizzard.”
    “A blizzard!” Linda’s ready laugh sounded again. “Then we’ll head to that little house over there and seek shelter for the night. It is such a small house. See, Dave?”
    Dave glanced over and then nodded. “Yep, I saw. It looks rather abandoned to me.”
    “Perhaps there will be a light on the other side where it is closer to the road.”
    Dave didn’t reply as he eased the car around the curve in the road, eyes searching for hidden patches of ice, for with the cold deepening, ice was beginning to form once more.
    “There! I told you there’d be a light! A candle in the window. I love candles in the windows. They make a house so inviting.”
    Now that the road was straight again, Dave ventured a glance. At that moment the wheels of the car hit a hidden patch of ice and began to slide. With strong hands on the wheel, Dave fought to gain control, but in vain. The car turned around and plowed straight into a large snow drift.
    “Great! Now what!” Dave sighed.
    Linda couldn’t help a little laugh. “We could try to dig it out, or we could just stop and have a snowball fight.”
    “Honey, aren’t you even a little upset about being delayed for the fifth time today?”
    Linda looked surprised. “Why should I be? It wasn’t your fault. Besides, I haven’t had this much fun since I went camping with my Girl Scout Troop and a huge rain storm came up.” She chuckled at the remembrance. “And I couldn’t think of anyone I’d rather be stuck with than you.”
    “Darling, you always see the silver lining. I don’t know how you do it, honestly. If it weren’t for you, I don’t know what I’d do.”
    “And,” Linda retorted brightly, “if it weren’t for you, I’d still be at home helping to get supper on the table.”
    Dave leaned over and kissed her.
    “The question is, what are we going to do now?”
    “Why walk over to that little house and ask for a shovel to get our car out.”
    “Or we could just ask if they have a horse and sleigh we could use,” Dave added dryly.

    Soon Dave and Linda were tramping through the snow towards the little house.
    “It doesn’t look as though anyone has been out since the snow fell two days ago.”
    “That’s a pity,” Linda said. “No one to make a snow man or snow angels.”
    “Perhaps no one is home.”
    “Oh, someone is there, I see a whiff of smoke from the chimney.”
    Dave assisted his wife up the slippery porch steps of the tiny weather beaten house and knocked.
    In a moment the door was opened, and a pale, tired looking woman looked out.
    “We’re sorry to bother you,” Dave began, “but our car is stuck in a snow drift, and we were wondering if you had a shovel we could borrow to try and free it.”
    “Come in,” the woman offered opening the door wider. “I’ll see if I can find one.”
    As she shut the door behind her two visitors, the woman suddenly leaned against it and pressed a hand to her side and her eyes closed momentarily. Linda noticed that the woman appeared very pregnant, and she glanced at her husband. Dave had also noticed.
    “Ma’am, are you all right?” he questioned. “Here, let me help you to a chair, you shouldn’t be standing.”
    “I’ll be all right,” the woman gasped as she sank into a chair. Both hands pressed on her stomach, and her breathing was rapid. “The baby has been trying to come all day, but I can’t get out . . . to the hospital.”
    “Linda, I’m going to get my medical bag.” Dave glanced around the dim room, noticing its bareness, three small children huddled close to the stove, and a bed in the far corner near a cold fireplace. “Help her to bed. I’ll be right back.” With that he was gone.

Have you ever slid on ice when in a car?

Every gotten stuck in a snowdrift?

If you want the next part, come back on Monday!

Dylan's Story - Part 7

Happy Day-After-Thanksgiving!
(Or Black Friday if you prefer)
Got any big plans for shopping today? Any sales you just can't pass up? I purchased something on Wednesday that was on a "pre-Black Friday" sale. It was originally over $100.00 and I only paid $34.50 or it. :) I'm happy. :)
Speaking of sales, I managed to get two of my books on sale. The Graham Quartet kindle books are on sale. The first one if FREE, and the second is $.99. And, if you get or already have the first Graham Quartet book on your kindle (or phone or wherever you have the kindle copy), you can get the audio for only $1.99! It's perfect for Holiday traveling.

There is also a sale going on Indie Christian Books that you aren't going to want to miss! I can't recommend all the books because I haven't read them all, but I can recommend authors Sarah Holman, Amanda Tero, and Kate Willis. Check out their books! They have sales on the kindle books and on the paper books.

Well, enough about sales and things like that. I hope all of you American readers had a wonderful Thanksgiving. Did you have family over or did you go somewhere? My grandparents were here and my brother and his family came over to have Thanksgiving on Wednesday so they could go to her family's house for Thanksgiving Day. We rather like this tradition. That means that we can eat leftovers on Thanksgiving and do other things besides stay in the kitchen all day. Yesterday we got our entire yard raked! We have a large yard and a whole lot of trees! Now we have mountains of leaves down by the street. Anyone want to come play in them?

Okay, I have other things I need to get done before I head over to help my brother pull orders for his Black Friday sale at Light of Faith. Have a wonderful week! And enjoy this next part of:

Dylan's Story

Part 7

    Leaning over towards her, Scott said two words, “Fern, stop!” His voice was low but full of authority.
    To her brother’s astonishment, Fern’s cries stopped. She sniffed a few times and sat looking down at her plate.
    “Fern, you can either eat the eggs and piece of bacon now, or you may be excused from the table and eat them for lunch. But if you wait, they will be cold.”
    “Can I have more cinnamon roll?”
    “After you have eaten your eggs and bacon.”
    For a moment Fern looked at the army reserve man as though trying to see how far she could push. She must have realized that she had reached her limit, for her eyes fell again and she picked up her fork and scooped up a bite of eggs.
    No one said a word until Fern’s plate was empty, and then Autumn said softly, “Thank you.”
    “Can I have another cinnamon roll now?” the girl asked, looking at Mr. Wood.
    “I’ll give you half a one and then, if you are still hungry, you can have the other half.” Cutting the large sticky roll, Scott set half of it on Fern’s plate. “What about you, Dylan, still hungry?”
    Hesitating, Dylan looked at his empty plate, and then at the pan of rolls. They were really good–
    “Half a one?”
    Dylan nodded and held out his plate. “Please. These are the best I’ve ever had, Mrs. Wood.”
    “Why thank you, Dylan. With praise like that, I may have to make them more often.”

    After breakfast, before they went outside, Dylan managed to catch his younger sister in the hallway. “Fern,” he whispered, “did you make your bed and tidy your room?”
    “No. And I don’t have to. We’re not at home, you know.”
    “Of course we aren’t, but that just means we should make sure we keep our rooms neat and tidy. They aren’t really our rooms. You don’t want them to make us go back and live alone in that old cabin, do you?” He was pretty sure Mr. and Mrs. Wood would never send them back alone, but he hoped the thought of it would make Fern a little more responsible.
    Before Fern could reply, a voice called from downstairs. “Dylan, Fern, are you two about ready to go see the horses?”
    Ignoring her brother, Fern ran down the hall and disappeared down the stairs. With a sigh, Dylan followed more slowly. He couldn’t decide if it was worth the trouble to try and make his younger sister behave or not.
    “Something on your mind, Dylan?” Scott asked as the boy came down the stairs, his feet almost dragging. “If you don’t want to go see the horses, you don’t have to.”
    “Oh, I want to go. Mr. Wood–” He paused, hesitated, and frowned.
    “Suppose we change something in that sentence,” Scott said. “Suppose you call me Uncle Scott. Since you and Fern are probably going to be staying for a while, it might make things a bit easier. And I know my wife would enjoy being Aunt Autumn. Now, what did you want to say?”
    Dylan didn’t answer right away. He’d never had an uncle. At least not that he knew of. Would it make things easier? Pulling on his sweatshirt, he stepped outside, still in silence. It wasn’t until they were halfway across the yard that he spoke, trying out the new name. “Uncle Scott, Fern . . . well, she can be really sweet, but other times she’s just plain hard to get along with. Mom didn’t always make her keep her room clean or make her bed . . .” His words died away. How could he explain himself?
    “And you are worried that she might cause problems?” Scott looked down at the boy beside him.
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Well, you can stop worrying. Fern will get used to things around here in time, and we aren’t sick like your mom was. Give us a chance, all right?”
    Dylan nodded. He still wasn’t convinced his new aunt and uncle knew what they were getting into, but he didn’t know what else to say.

    Part way through the morning, the sun, which had persistently poked through the clouds every little while, disappeared altogether and the rain began to fall. Out in the stable, Scott stepped to the doorway and looked out. A biting wind was coming from the north and the sky was dark. Everywhere the brightly colored leaves were falling in showers from the trees, leaving the branches bare.
    “I don’t think this is going to let up any time soon,” Scott called back over his shoulder. He had to almost shout to be heard above the torrents of rain. “And the wind has shifted. We may be getting snow or ice before long.”
    At his words, Autumn placed an arm about Fern’s shoulders. She wasn’t ready for winter yet, and she wasn’t sure if the children even had winter coats, but her concern at the moment was how they were going to get back to the shelter of the house. “Stay here, children,” she told Dylan and Fern, pushing the girl over beside her brother. “I’ll be right back.”
    Quickly she hurried over to the door. “Scott, how are we going to get back to the house? We can’t just stay here until the rain stops, for that might not be for hours. We only have on our sweatshirts or jackets. I didn’t think winter would come so suddenly.”
    Scott gave a sigh. “I know. It might not get cold enough for ice and snow today, but that wind has a feel to it that I don’t quite like.” He was silent a moment. “You stay here with the kids. Make sure the horses have enough water and food for the day.”
    “Where are you going?” Autumn thought she knew, but she asked anyway.
    “I’ll make a run for the house and get the truck. Then I’ll come back and get you guys.”
    “Be careful.”
    “I will. And don’t let either of them go out in this rain! We don’t want them ending up in the hospital with pneumonia!”

Do you ever try to get younger siblings to be tidy?

Does it work?

Are you excited about Christmas coming?

Dylan's Story - Part 6

Hello FFFs,
Are you still around? Probably lurking in cyber space, right? 😉 I don't know if this story will be able to pull you out of hiding or not. We'll try it though.

This has been a good but busy week. I've gotten a lot of work done on the Bike Trip project I'm working on, and on listening to the audios of two of my books. I'm hoping to have both TCR-2 and "The Unexpected Request" on audio by Christmas. Wouldn't that be fun? Writing has rather taken a back seat this week. I wanted to write, but I haven't been reading enough to enable me to really write well. Though last night I did get 1,000 words written in 50 minutes. I haven't written that much all month! And, in case you are wondering, it was on a Christmas story. 😊


Have you all gotten winter weather yet? Yesterday it was in the low 80s and very windy. Today it's supposed to drop to the mid to low 40s. Such strange weather.

Now I'm going to let you read more of Dylan, Fern and the Woods. You can read part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4 and part 5 here.

Dylan's Story

Part 6

    The sun was peeking through the clouds when Dylan woke up the next morning. The house was still and quiet, and for a moment he lay blinking, trying to remember what day it was. Today was Saturday. Quickly scrambling from his bed, he hurried to the window. Sometime during the night or early morning the rain had stopped, but the ground was covered with puddles, and water still dripped from the branches of the trees when the wind shook them. A glance at the clock showed him that it was nearly eight o’clock.
    “I wonder if Fern is up yet,” he mused, getting dressed hurriedly and making his bed. After putting away his pajamas, Dylan picked up his shoes and tiptoed into the hall.
    The door to his sister’s room stood wide open and he peeked in. With a slight frown, he turned and headed for the stairs. The smell of bacon and–something sweet–he couldn’t tell what, was making his stomach rumble. On the bottom step he sat down and put on his shoes. He could hear his younger sister’s voice chattering in the kitchen.
    “Well, good morning, Dylan,” a voice sounded nearby.
    Dylan looked up. “Good morning, sir.” Quickly he tied the other shoe and stood up. “Is there anything I can do?”
    Scott Wood shook his head. “Not before breakfast. From the smell of things I’d say it was about ready. You hungry?”
    Dylan nodded.
    Just then Mrs. Wood stepped into the hall. “Breakfast is ready. Good morning, Dylan. You got up just in time, I see. Would you like orange juice, milk, or water?”

    Soon everyone was seated at the table. Dylan’s mouth watered at the sight of the skillet of scrambled eggs, the plate of bacon, and the pan of large cinnamon rolls from which the steam was still rising and the icing was melting. After the blessing had been asked, Scott began filling the plates.
    “I want that big one right there,” Fern told him, pointing to one of the largest rolls that sat in the middle of the pan.
    “Can you eat that much?” Scott asked, glancing at Dylan.
    “Her eyes are always bigger than her stomach,” he murmured.
    “I’ll tell you what,” Scott said, placing a slightly smaller cinnamon roll on the plate, “if you’re still hungry after you’ve eaten everything else, you can have more.” He scooped up some eggs. “Do you want a lot of eggs or a little bit?”
    Resting her elbows on the table, Fern shook her head. “I don’t want any. I just want the cinnamon roll.”
    Dylan frowned and cleared his throat, trying to get his sister to look at him. He wished she wouldn’t be so demanding and rude. He also knew what she would be like if all she ate was sugar for breakfast.
    Autumn’s quiet voice broke into the conversation. “Fern, I want you to eat a few eggs and a piece of bacon along with your cinnamon roll. You are going to need something substantial if you are going to go out and see the horses this morning.”
    But Fern’s lower lip came out. “I don’t like eggs, and I only want the cinnamon roll,” she said.
    Dylan saw the looks exchanged between Mr. and Mrs. Wood, though he couldn’t catch their meaning. So much for a nice start to the day. It seemed that no matter which way things went there would be trouble.
    Scott put a small helping of eggs and one piece of bacon on the plate and handed it to Fern. “It takes a lot of good food to make you able to help with the horses.” Then he quickly filled another plate and passed it down to his wife before turning to Dylan. “How hungry are you?”
    “Hungry.”
    Giving a chuckle, Scott heaped the plate and passed it over. “Think you can eat all that?”
    Eyeing the pile before him, Dylan picked up his fork. “I can sure try.”
    Several minutes passed as everyone focused on their breakfast. Then Fern broke the silence. “I want that other cinnamon roll now.”
    “You can have more after you finish what’s on your plate,” Scott told her calmly after a glance at her plate.
    “But I don’t like eggs,” whined the girl.
    “You do too,” Dylan whispered, glaring at his sister.
    She ignored him and repeated her statement, giving a sniff at the end for effect.
    To Dylan’s astonishment, neither Mr. Wood nor his wife seemed to even notice Fern’s complaint. Anxiously he watched his sister while continuing to eat. For a full minute Fern whimpered about not liking eggs, but when no one paid any attention to her, she folded her arms.
    “I want another cinnamon roll.”
    “You may have one as soon as you’ve finished the eggs and piece of bacon that are on your plate.” Mr. Wood took a bite of his crisp bacon. “Hmm. Autumn, is this from that smoked stuff we got last week?” he asked.
    His wife nodded. “I thought we should try it, and I think I like it better than what we have been getting.”
    “So do I. What do you think of it, Dylan?”
    With his mouth full, Dylan could only nod emphatically. He didn’t know what the other bacon had tasted like, but he knew what he was eating was better than any he had ever had.
    “Give me another cinnamon roll!”
    “Fern,” Mrs. Wood said, “you have been told you have to eat what’s on your plate first.”
    “I’m not going to!”
    “It will taste better warm.”
    “I won’t eat it!”
    “Then you may have it for lunch.”
    Nearly choking on his food, Dylan stared at the woman sitting calmly at the foot of the table. Was she crazy? Fern would never stand for something like that! Always before, Fern had been yielded to if she persisted long enough in what she wanted.
    The long moment of silence ended abruptly when Fern burst into loud crying.

Do you usually have to eat everything on your plate before seconds?

Do you want more of this story?

What kind of weather have you had lately?

HitH - My Song Shall be of Jesus - Part 4

Hello!
Wow! The elections are over and I'm still in shock by what happened. Not just the presidency, but we also got the US House and the Senate! And . . . If that weren't enough, Missouri made history! For the first time in the history of this state, we elected Republicans to every state office from Governor, to Treasurer, to Attorney General, and all the others. This has never happened before. And it was the title wave from conservative SW Missouri that overturned the liberal votes of Kansas City and St. Louis. Wow!
And, for those of you wondering, yes, we got to meet Ted Cruz and get a group picture with him. We also got to meet our new Governor elect and his wife and get a group picture with them. American Government Camp was great! I'm still really tired. On election day I was up at 4:30, at the polls by 5:20 and didn't leave the County Seat until 8:30. Then I went to the Republican HQ for the watch party and didn't leave there until after 1:00 and got to bed about 1:30. If I had stayed up 3 more hours I could have stayed up 24 hours. Ha! Just what I didn't want to do! :P

Now I'm trying to catch up on everything. I have messes to clean up, emails to reply to or send, a desk that is covered with all sorts of things, and I'd really like to just go back to bed. ;)

I hope you enjoy this next part of Hymns in the Hills.

My Song Shall be of Jesus

Part 4

    Ali jumped off the rock and brought Mattie back from her wanderings, offering her a small branch with a few green leaves to play with. “Ain’t any need fer ya ta help all the time. Weren’t nothin’ fer ya to do anyhow with the young’uns all sleepin’. Say, Belle, what’s yer home like, back in the city? I ain’t never been anywhere’s bigger’n the town. Is the city much bigger? Zeke said it is, but I kain’t see how he knows since he ain’t never been there.”
    “Oh, yes, the city is much bigger than the town. Why, there are hundreds of houses and streets. The main streets are busy with trolly cars and buggies. Some of the shops are so big that you could take all the children there and lose them in five minutes if you didn’t keep your eyes on them.” She laughed at the thought.
    “Ya ain’t joshin’ are ya?”
    “Not the least bit.” Then she began to describe the house she had lived in all her life; the green lawns around it, the flower gardens which had been her special care, and the shady trees. “We didn’t have as many trees as you have here though. And there weren’t as many hills either.”
    “Why did Aunt Lynn move away from here, I wonder,” Ali spoke quietly.
    “I don’t know for sure. I think she fell in love with Papa. But I don’t know where they met. I wish now I had asked her all about it. But you see I didn’t know I was going to be coming out here until just last week.”
    “Didn’t ya?”
    Belle shook her head. “No, Papa had been sick now and then, and the doctor said he needed a change. But he couldn’t leave his business right away, and they thought it best if I was somewhere else where they wouldn’t have to worry about me. Mama had written Aunt Lillian to see if I could come here, and I only found out when it was time to pack. It was all so sudden. You see, Papa got worse, and the doctor said he must leave even if his business wasn’t ready. So Uncle Archie said he’d take care of the business, I was packed off here, and Mama and Papa were to leave on the very next train.”
    “Do you miss ‘em?”
    Not trusting herself to speak, Belle only nodded.
    “I ain’t never been away from my family fer more’n a few hours,” confessed Ali. “An’ then it were jest at our cousins.”
    “There are more cousins?” Belle forgot her homesickness and stared.
    “Yep. Didn’t Aunt Lynn tell ya about Uncle Nate an’ Aunt Claire?”
    With a doubtful shake of the head, Belle replied slowly, “She talked about Uncle Nathan, but he wasn’t married.”
    Ali laughed merrily. “Maybe he weren’t married when she left, but he shore is now. Why they got most as many young’uns as we got. Only they ain’t got the older ones ta help. Sometimes Jess, Riss an’ me take turns goin’ over ta help Aunt Claire. I reckon I’ll ask Ma if’n we kain’t go over an’ see ‘em soon.”
    Dumbfounded by this news, Belle could only stare at Ali in silence. More cousins. And an aunt she knew nothing about. She wondered if her mama had known of Aunt Claire and had just forgotten to tell her. But then she hadn’t known about all the cousins either. She would certainly have a lot to write her parents about. Suddenly she frowned. “Ali, how do folks mail letters out here? Is there a postoffice?”
    “I ‘spect there’s one in town.”
    “Does anyone go to town very often?”
    Ali shrugged. “Sometimes Zeke an’ Ez go ‘cause they kin git work there, but it ain’t close enough fer the rest of us ta go much.”
    Belle could understand why.
    A shadow fell across the girls and they looked up. Zeke was standing there. “Ain’t ya comin’ ta supper?”
    “Ain’t no one said it were time,” Ali retorted, lifting Mattie and holding her out to her brother.
    “Humph,” Zeke grunted, swinging the little one to his broad shoulders. “Jess called ya twice.”
    Startled by this piece of news, the two girls scrambled to their feet and hurried down the sunny slope to the house with Zeke behind them.
    The rest of the family was already seated at the table when they entered, and Belle thought she caught a glare from Kade’s expressive eyes. “I’m so sorry we are late, Aunt Lillian, Uncle Benjamin,” she began. “Ali and I were talking and we didn’t hear a thing.”
    “I reckon once ain’t goin’ ta hurt, but pay more attention next time er ya might have ta eat when the food’s cold. If’n there’s any left.” Uncle Benjamin nodded to the empty places. “Ya still wantin’ ta say grace?” he asked Belle.
    “I will if you don’t want to, Uncle.”
    Uncle Benjamin motioned her to proceed and Belle did.
    Part way through the meal, Ali turned to her father. “Pa, Belle learned us a new song on the way ta church this mornin’.”
    “Did she?”
    “Yep. Learned us all. Then we sung it in church an’ the minister said we did fine.”
    “Well, I reckon we can listen to it after we eat an’ the dishes are cleaned up.”
    Ali took a few more bites before looking up again. “An’ Ma, kin Belle an’ me go over ta Aunt Claire’s this week? Belle said she ain’t known Uncle Nate were married.”
    “Aw, he’s always been married,” Kade protested. “I betcha she were jest makin’ it up.”
    “No, I wasn’t, Kade, really,” Belle insisted. “I don’t know if my mama knew Uncle Nathan had gotten married. If she did, she never mentioned it to me. I didn’t even know about all of you until I arrived.”
    Kade turned and eyed his cousin skeptically. “Honest?”
    Belle nodded. Then her eyes began to sparkle and a smile spread across her face. “I’m going to have such a lot to tell her and Papa in my letter.”

Have you ever missed the call to supper?

Did you get out and vote this week?

Next week I'll be posting some of "Dylan's Story." Will you be here?

HitH - My Song Shall be of Jesus - Part 3

And a lovely good morning FFFs!

My week has been busy! I've walked and walked and walked. Shouted and waved political signs on busy streets, stayed up later than normal, gotten up earlier than normal, knocked on strangers' houses, left literature about the Republican candidates, answered questions, and been very political, including meeting a few people I think you would like . . . And I'm not done yet. American Government Camp doesn't end until Wednesday! Yeah, I'll be really tired by then!

And, since this coming Tuesday is ELECTION DAY . . . Don't forget to go vote if you are old enough. If you are not old enough, make sure your parents and any older siblings go out and vote. I will once again be sitting all day long (for 13 hours) at a polling place on Tuesday. I'm hoping for a very busy day. Even if those kinds of days mean you hardly have time to eat, it's still much more fun than sitting around and wishing someone would come and vote. (I mean, only 1 or 2 voters an hour can get a little dull.)

I hope you enjoy this next part of Hymns in the Hills!

My Song Shall be of Jesus

Part 3

    “I do hope you will be able to make it each week. Why, Philip,” Mrs. Williamson added, turning to her husband and seizing his arm, “we could start a Sunday School.” She looked at the others. “We have wanted to start one, but there never seem to be enough children and young people who will come. Could you come and help us each week, do you think?”
    Belle looked eagerly from Zeke to Ez. She wanted to say they would come but wasn’t sure Uncle Benjamin would let them go or if Zeke and Ez would be willing to bring them. “Do you think we could?” she whispered, looking up at Ez.
    He shrugged.
    “We’ll have ta check with Pa,” Zeke finally said. “He ain’t home every Sunday an’ Ma’d get too tired with all the young’uns.”
    Mrs. Williamson opened her eyes wider. “Are there more of you than the seven right here?”
    “Reckon so,” Ali replied. “There’s Sade and Si, Tabby, Benny and Mattie.”
    “Couldn’t they come along too? We’d be glad to have all of you.”
    There was no immediate reply, and the silence began to grow uncomfortable until the minister said, “You don’t have to give any answer now. Chrissy is always ready to start something right away. But tell me, Zeke, just where do you live in the hills?”
    In a few short sentences, Zeke gave Mr. Williamson directions, adding, “It ain’t as easy as it seems. Now we’d best be goin’.” He looked around. “Where’s Kade an’ Rome?”
    Ez jerked his head in the direction of the sunny slope. There were the two younger boys, rolling down the hills, unmindful of their clean clothes.
    “Ain’t Ma goin’ ta give ‘em what fer,” Ali whispered to Belle as the girls, after saying good bye to the minister and his wife, walked over to the wagon.
    “Kade! Rome!” Zeke’s strong voice rang out on the quiet afternoon air. “If’n ya don’t aim ta walk back, ye’d best get ta the wagon.”

    They were halfway home before anyone broke the silence. “Belle,” Ali asked, “are all minister’s like that one?”
    Rubbing a thumb gently over the cover of her Bible, Belle shook her head. “No, they are all different. Like everyone is. Did you like him?”
    “Uh huh. Zeke, ya think he’ll come see us?”
    “Huh uh.”
    “But he asked fer directions.”
    Zeke shrugged.
    “I think he will.” Jess’s quiet voice interrupted anything Ali might have said.
    “Why ‘ud he want ta come ta our house fer?” demanded Kade.
    “Because ministers like to visit people.” Belle wasn’t sure why exactly, but she knew their minister back home visited folks.
    The wagon rumbled and creaked over a few holes before Ali said, “Reckon he’d be comin’ ta see if’n you an’ Rome ken behave at home like ya did in church. If’n ya can’t he–”
    “Ali–” Ez began.
    “Quit tryin’ ta pick a fight,” finished Zeke. “Kade an’ Rome did good taday.”
    Nothing else was said, but Belle could feel the pleasant mood had changed, leaving tension and ill will behind. Was there something she could say? No, but she could sing. Hoping that the others would join her, Belle began her song of the morning.

“My song shall be of Jesus,
His mercy crowns my days,
He fills my cup with blessings,
And tunes my heart to praise.”

    The late afternoon sun was filtering down through the leaves of the trees. Evening was coming, but for now all seemed hushed and still, as though nature had taken a repose in preparation for their evening concert. Up on a rock, in the shade of a great oak, sat Belle, silent. It was the first hour she had spent alone since her arrival two days ago. With a soft sigh, she leaned back against the tree and looked up. “I suppose I will get used to it,” she murmured to herself. “I wonder what Mama would say if she could see this place. It is lovely, the colors of the flowers, the different shapes of the tree leaves, and the hills and the sky. It’s all so quiet here when the children are somewhere else.” Her thoughts drifted to her absent parents. “I hope you can rest today, Mama,” she whispered. “But why couldn’t I have gone with you and Papa? I could have helped. Oh, Papa!” She sniffed and blinked rapidly, trying to keep back the tears. She wouldn’t cry. She had promised she would be brave.
    Softly she began to hum and after a few minutes her tears went back to their place.

“My song shall be of Jesus,
Whatever ill betide;
I’ll sing the grace that saves me,
And keeps me at His side.”

    Into the hush that followed her song, came the sound of shouting children. Turning her head, Belle saw her younger cousins racing about the yard after one another. Kade and Rome were waving sticks and soon Si and Benny had some too. The girls, seemingly oblivious to the sword fighting going on, raced here and there. Pulling her feet up, Belle clasped her hands around her knees and watched. There appeared to be children everywhere, and surely there were more than eight of them!
    For a time no one noticed Belle in her secluded place under the tree. She could watch the others in peace. But it didn’t last long. Ali soon caught a glimpse of her, and with Mattie slung on her hip, she tramped up the hillside.
    “Kin me’n Mattie join ya?”
    “Of course.” Belle scooted over to share the rock with her cousins. “What is everyone else doing?”
    Ali shrugged. “Don’t know. Pa’s gone an’ so are Ez an’ Zeke. I reckon Jess an’ Riss’ll be helpin’ Ma fix supper soon.”
    For a moment Belle was silent, watching the youngsters below them. “Should we help somewhere? I didn’t know what to do and it didn’t look like I was needed, so I just came out here. I’ve never been in a family this large before, but maybe I should have stayed to help . . .” her voice trailed off.

Do you think the minister will visit them?

Do you ever get overwhelmed by a crowd of younger children?

Are you looking forward to the next part of this story?

P.S. I wrote this post on Monday, so I couldn't exactly tell you who I had met because I wasn't sure just who I would actually get to meet, but Ted Cruz was going to be at a rally . . . But, if you want to know if I got to meet him, leave a comment and I'll tell you. :) After I return to "civilian life."