Out of the earth, the rose.
Out of the night, the dawn.
Out of my heart with all its woes,
The courage to press on.
December 24, 1880
Josiah Peale closed his Bible and lay it aside. In spite of the beauty of the passage in Luke that told of the Christ Child’s birth, he prepared for bed with a heavy heart. He hadn’t seen Austin all day, and Newt had been gone for a week or better. He knew that he had no reason to expect to see them on Christmas Day either. Christmas was a sad time of the year for all of them.
As he lay in his bed waiting for the blessed oblivion of sleep to take him, Josiah made a firm resolve. He would lock Christmas away somewhere where it would be safe. He would keep it in the same place where he stored treasured memories of his wife, Sarah, his daughter, Hannah, and the way things were when they were a family. That way it would hurt less. For him, Christmas was a thing of the past. Things could never be the way they used to be, and it was no use wishing they could.
Josiah drifted off to sleep with the image of a box in his mind. Not a gaily-wrapped present with bright ribbons, but a plain, sturdy box. The kind that had a tight-fitting lid. Yes, Christmas would be safe there.
He awoke to a pounding on the door. At least he thought he did. Had he been dreaming? No, there it was again. He fumbled for a match to light the lamp. The clock on his nightstand read midnight. He searched for his slippers and robe and put them on. Then he shuffled to the door and opened it a crack. He held up the lamp and peered out. There was no one there. He must have been dreaming after all. It was snowing heavily, and several inches had already piled up on the stoop. He would have to sweep it off in the morning.
Josiah shivered through his thin robe. His warm bed was beckoning. He lowered the lamp and was just about to shut the door when he saw them. Yes, there were footprints all right, although the snow was rapidly filling them in. He lifted the lamp again and peered out into the yard. The footprints led to something -- a huddled shape on the ground. A silent mound of white.
“Oh, my Lord!” Josiah rushed out into the yard and held up the lamp, peering into the face of a young woman. Her eyes were closed, her face almost blue with the cold. Was she breathing? He laid a hand on her shoulder. She didn’t stir.
Without knowing how he did it, Josiah scooped her up in his arms and carried her into the house. He staggered to the bed and laid her on it. He yanked off her sodden coat and boots and bundled her under the covers. Then he hurried back out into the yard, snatched up the lamp, and ran for the doctor.
##
“Is she going to be all right, Doc?”
Doctor Cleese’s face was drawn tight with concern as he rubbed the woman’s arms, trying to chafe some life back into them. “Get some more blankets, Josiah. We must bring her body temperature up. And put some water on to boil; I’ll need some hot cloths.”
Josiah stripped Austin’s bed and draped the blankets over the girl. Then he stoked the fire and put on a kettle of water.
“Who is she, Doctor? Do you recognize her?” he asked as he tore up an old bed sheet and placed the strips in the water to heat.
“Emily Parsons. She and her husband moved here from Minnesota last summer. Their farm is clear out by Star Meadows. I wonder what she was doing out in this storm; it’s not fit for man nor beast out there tonight. Thank goodness you found her, Josiah; she would have been frozen through by morning.”
“Thank God I heard her knock,” Josiah reflected. As soon as the water was hot, he fished the first cloth out of the pan, wrung it out, and handed it to Ephraim.
The doctor wrapped the cloth around one of the girl’s hands. “I’m relieved to see no sign of frostbite. It would be unfortunate for someone of her tender years to be deprived of her extremities.”
For the better part of an hour the two men worked over the young woman, and at last some color began to return to her cheeks. She moaned and tossed on the pillow, and finally she opened her eyes. She stared uncomprehendingly at them. “Where am I? How did I get here?”
“Hush, you’re safe now,” Ephraim soothed her. “You need to rest. We’ll sort this out in the morning.”
Emily’s eyes widened in alarm and, she tried to sit up. “Old Jake! I left him out there in the storm! He went lame, and I couldn’t ride him any more, and I just left him there. What will Seth say? What will he think of me for leaving him?”
At Ephraim’s insistence, Emily lay back in the bed. She turned away from them, closing her eyes tightly as one silent tear trickled down her face.
“Now, don’t you worry,” the little doctor told her. “I’m sure Jake’s fine. And I’ll send someone out to your place in the morning to tell Seth you’re all right.”
Another tear slipped from beneath Emily’s closed lid. “No, don’t trouble yourself. I’m not going back to Seth. I’m leaving him.”
Ephraim and Josiah exchanged startled looks.
“Now, now. You will feel better in the morning,” Ephraim assured her while Josiah feebly patted her shoulder. “You rest now, and I will be back to check on you first thing.”
Josiah followed Ephraim to the door. “She’ll be all right here. She can stay as long as she likes.”
“I wonder what could have happened between them. I’ll warrant Seth is half out of his mind with worry. I’ll send someone out at first light to let him know where she is. Good night, Josiah.”
Ephraim put on his hat and headed back out into the cold night, and Josiah closed the kitchen door. When he went to check on Emily, he found her fast asleep. And as he blew out the lamp, he saw that her cheeks were wet with tears.
December 25th
At dawn, Josiah, who had been dozing in a chair in his parlor, heard another knock. Seth Parsons rushed in when he opened the door. “Emily! Where is she? Is she here?”
Silently, Josiah pointed to the bedroom, and Seth rushed in. “Emily! Oh, Emily, thank God you’re all right! I was so worried! Old Jake came back by himself. I looked everywhere. What were you thinking, running off like that?”
The young man knelt at the bedside and tried to gather his wife in his arms, but she pulled away. “As you can see, Seth, I am perfectly all right.”
Another knock sounded, and Josiah went to admit Doctor Cleese. “I see Seth’s come,” Ephraim said, stamping the snow from his boots.
Josiah waited while Ephraim took off his scarf and coat. “Sounds like things aren’t going too well,” he said as angry voices came from the bedroom.
Just then, a confused Seth came out of the bedroom. “I just don’t know what to do,” he said, raking his fingers through his hair. “She’s being impossible. I don’t know what I’ve done, but she refuses to come home with me.” He glared back at the open bedroom door. “Who can understand women?” He jammed his hat on his head. “I’ll be damned if I’ll let her go back to Minnesota. She’s my wife; she belongs with me. When she comes to her senses, I’ll be back to take her home where she belongs.”
“Seth, wait . . .” Ephraim called after him. But he was already gone.
The two men exchanged concerned looks. “I was hoping she’d see things differently this morning,” Ephraim said. “I can’t imagine what’s troubling her. Maybe she just needs some time to think things over.”
Josiah shrugged. “The next stage isn’t till Tuesday. She can’t leave before then.”
Ephraim nodded. He went into the bedroom and set his bag down on the dresser. “How’s the patient this morning?”
“A little weak.” Emily struggled to sit up, moaned and slid back under the covers. “And a bit dizzy.”
Ephraim felt her forehead. “No fever. But you should stay in bed today. Your system has had quite a shock, and you need time to recover.”
He pulled one of her hands out from under the covers and examined it carefully. “These fingers look good. Is there any pain or tingling?”
Emily shook her head no, and gave him her other hand to examine.
“Good. Now let me see your toes.”
Dutifully, she stuck out first one foot and then the other.
“Splendid. I see no sign of any peripheral damage. You know, you are exceedingly lucky. You shouldn’t have gone out in that weather dressed as you were. It could have had dire consequences.”
Emily nodded, chastened.
“Something must have precipitated your hasty departure. What was troubling you? Would you care to tell me about it?”
He saw tears in her eyes, but she stuck out her chin and looked away. “No.”
Ephraim sighed. “Very well. But I’m available to talk if you change your mind.” Ephraim closed up his bag. “Do you think you could manage to eat something?”
“I’m not hungry, thank you.”
“Nonsense. You need nourishment if you are going to get back on your feet. I’ll have Josiah bring you something.”
Emily flashed him a grateful smile, then lay back and closed her eyes. When Josiah came in later with her tray, she was sound asleep. He watched her for a few moments. How young she looked. Hannah would have been about her age . . . if she had lived. Josiah sighed heavily and set down the tray.
##
That evening Josiah was surprised to see Emily emerge from the bedroom, fully dressed and looking much better.
“Did you have a nice rest?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Are you hungry? Could you eat something?”
“I think I could. But let me get it.” Emily bustled into the kitchen, and a short time later she called Josiah to sit down to a simple supper of potato soup and cheese sandwiches.
Josiah dug in eagerly. “This is delicious. I seldom have a home-cooked meal these days.”
Emily smiled. “I’m glad that you are enjoying it.” She looked down at the napkin in her lap. “Mr. Peale, if you don’t mind me asking, is there a Mrs. Peale?” She looked up at him. “I mean, I know it’s none of my business, but I saw the pictures on your mantle.”
Josiah swallowed hard. “I’m a widower. My wife died several years ago.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.”
Emily concentrated on her soup, and it was a few minutes before either of them spoke. She passed Josiah another sandwich. “The young woman in the other picture, is that your daughter? She’s very beautiful.”
Josiah looked towards the fireplace. “Yes, she was. She died two Christmases ago.”
“How awful for you. Please forgive me; I didn’t mean to pry.”
Josiah managed a wan smile. “Hannah always loved Christmas. If she were here, she’d be at the spinet right now pounding out Christmas carols.”
Emily smiled. “I know how to play. Would you allow me to serenade you?” She laid down her napkin as she rose from the table.
“Please, go right ahead. There’s some music there somewhere.”
Emily patted the dust from the padded stool and pulled it up to the piano, and she and Josiah thoroughly enjoyed a round of carols, ending with a rousing version of Jingle Bells.
Emily laughed and spun around on the stool. “That was wonderful! I don’t know when I’ve had so much fun. You have a wonderful voice, Mr. Peale. Did you ever sing in a choir?”
“Back in Boston my wife and I both belonged to the church choir.” His face clouded over.
“You must miss her very much.”
“It was a long time ago.” Josiah got up and walked slowly to the mantle. He picked up Sarah’s picture and traced the soft contours of her face through the glass. “Christmas is especially hard. Christmas is a time for family.”
He turned to face Emily. “Now it’s my turn to pry. Why are you leaving Seth? He seems to be very much in love with you. Don’t you love him anymore?”
Emily turned away from him. It was a moment before she spoke. “I love Seth very much, Mr. Peale. That’s why I have to leave him.”
Josiah set down the picture. “I’m afraid you’re not making much sense.”
Emily turned stricken eyes on him. “Seth deserves better than me. I can never give him what he wants. He’s unhappy. And that makes me unhappy. Things will be better if I leave.”
“I’m afraid I still don’t follow you.”
Slowly, Emily got up from the stool and walked to the window. She drew back the curtain and peered out into the night. The snow was still falling softly; it would be plenty deep by morning. “Seth wants a child,” she said finally. “More than anything else in this world, he wants a child. He deserves to have a son to carry on his name. He needs a son to help him with the farm. And I . . . I can’t give him one.”
“But surely if you are patient. You’re still very young.”
Emily turned away from the window. “It’s not going to happen. I know it’s not. We’ve been married for seven years. I’m barren. And I can’t stand to watch him suffering anymore. Especially at Christmas.”
Emily sat down on the loveseat and looked at Josiah through her tears. “You see, Mr. Peale, every year Seth goes out and gets a Christmas tree – a big one. It takes up the entire parlor!” She smiled. “He’s like a child himself at Christmas. And every Christmas Eve he brings out the toys he had when he was a boy. There’s a wagon and a team of horses. There’s even a wooden train and some tracks his grandfather carved. Every year Seth brings out those toys, and every year he says, ‘Maybe next year I’ll have a son of my own to give them to.’” Emily sighed. “Last night when he finished decorating the tree, I waited for him to bring out the Christmas box. And I dreaded hearing him say those words. I just knew he was going to say them to me again, the way he has every year since we’ve been married. But this year he didn’t even bring out the box. He just stood looking at the tree for a while and then went out to do his chores. He didn’t say anything at all. He didn’t even look at me. And that’s when I knew he’d given up. As I have.”
The tears flowed freely now, and Josiah got up and handed her his handkerchief. She buried her face in it and sobbed. “That’s why I left. I had to. I can’t stand in his way any longer. If I leave him now -- give him a divorce -- Seth can marry again. Then maybe he’ll have what he so desperately wants.”
Josiah tried to digest this information. “I see. Where are you planning to go?”
Emily blew her nose. “I figured I’d wait for the next stage going east. I still have family in Minnesota. Last night I was coming to town to buy a ticket. But then the storm came, and Jake went lame, and, well, you know the rest. I ended up here with you.”
“I think you need to give it some more time,” Josiah protested, “I hardly think that Seth . . .”
Emily stood up. “Please, Mr. Peale, my mind’s made up. I’m leaving on the first stage. And nothing anyone can do will stop me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to go to bed. I’m feeling very tired.”
“Of course.”
Josiah was reaching for the lamp when he heard
Emily sigh, followed by a muffled thump.
“Emily!” Josiah rushed to her side. She had fainted dead away.
##
Dr. Cleese came out of the bedroom, wiping his hands on a
Towel.
“What’s wrong, Doc? Is Emily all right? What happened? I hope I didn’t upset her too much. Or maybe she overdid it playing the spinet.”
Ephraim smiled. “Relax, Josiah. There’s nothing wrong with Emily. At least nothing that nine months won’t cure.”
“You mean . . . ?”
“Yes. Emily is going to have a baby.”
##
When Seth had arrived and gone in to see Emily, Josiah went into Hannah’s bedroom. He closed the door and leaned against it for a few moments. Then he went to the closet. He knew just what he was looking for. He pushed aside some dusty books and reached into the corner. Yes, there it was. He took down a box and blew the dust off the top. He held in his hands a plain wooden box – one with a tight-fitting lid. Reverently, he opened it. Inside, staring back at him was a tiny tin soldier. Just a little paint was missing from the well-loved toy that his son had placed beneath the tree every Christmas when he was a boy. At one time there had been a regiment of soldiers, but this was the only one left now.
Next to the soldier lay an angel with gossamer white wings. Josiah’s throat tightened at the memory of lifting his tiny daughter up so she could place her treasure on the very tiptop of the tree. “There. Isn’t it beautiful, Father?” The sweet voice came down to him through the years. “Yes, Hannah, but not as beautiful as you,” he whispered. “Not as beautiful as my little girl.”
Josiah moved the angel carefully aside and picked up a carved wooden cross. How Sara had treasured it, he remembered. She always hung it in the very front of the tree where they could see it. “It’s the meaning of Christmas,” she would tell him. “I want the children to always remember the meaning of Christmas.”
Josiah replaced the box and carried his treasures out to the parlor where the Parsons were preparing to take their leave. “Here,” he said, taking Emily’s hand and placing the ornaments in it. “I want you to have these for the baby. You can put them on your tree next year.”
Emily’s brown eyes widened. “Oh my! Are you sure? How kind of you. Thank you. We’ll always treasure them, won’t we, Seth?”
In answer, Seth reached out and took Josiah’s hand. “Thank you, sir, for everything.” He took his wife gently by the shoulders and turned to go, but Emily pulled away. Running back to Josiah, she threw her arms around him. “I want to name the baby after you if it’s a boy,” she said softly.
Josiah held her out at arm’s length and looked into her eyes. “And if it’s a girl?”
“Hannah . . . if that’s all right with you.”
Tears came into Josiah’s eyes. “Of course, it is. I think she’d like that.”
“Merry Christmas,” Emily said, and she kissed him on the cheek.
Josiah waved from the window as he watched them drive away. Then he went back into the bedroom. Taking the Christmas box down from the shelf, he opened it once more. There was nothing inside it now; it was empty. But strangely enough, he didn’t feel sad and bereft like he’d thought he might. Instead he felt surrounded by love. Sarah and Hannah seemed very near. Josiah smiled and closed the lid. He wouldn’t be needing the box any more.
December 26th
The next morning Josiah bathed and dressed carefully before heading out. He needed to find his son. It was too late for this Christmas. But there was another one coming. He needed to give Austin another chance. Forgive him again. Forgive him and this time forget. There was still time.
The End
12/04
