February comes, and we’re ready to be done with winter. Often, we've had two or three months of snow nd sleet and slush and canceled plans due to bad weather. We get cross. We complain. We sigh and say “Come on April!! Come on!! Hurry!”
But this month, I’ve been reminded by our theme that it’s a month of joy. I should stop whining about the weather, stop wishing everything could just go my way for once, and ask God to remind me to think of Him.
He’s already provided the joy. It’s a fruit of the Spirit, after all! I just have to recognize it, and pull from the abundant fountain of His joy.
As I look around, I can think about how beautiful the trees look while laden with snow. I can laugh as my cats try to see around the ginormous icicles in my windows. I can be grateful for our amazing neighbors who plow our driveway for us after every big snow. I can have blast going sledding, or go out and spend some time with my brothers carving out a snow hut.
These are all the amazing and joy-inspiring things of winter, that with God’s power, I can focus on. He’s given me His Spirit, His power, to think His way about the world (1 Corinthians 2:12-14), and what a joyous opportunity I’m missing if I don’t draw upon it!
Aelsa Butler, General Editor
Allie Hawbaker, Secretary Editor
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Verses of the Month:
Psalm 16:7-11
I bless the Lord who gives me counsel; in the night also my heart instructs me. I have set the Lord always before me; because he is at my right hand, I shall not be shaken. Therefore my heart is glad, and my whole being rejoices; my flesh also dwells secure. For you will not abandon my soul to Sheol, or let your holy one see corruption. You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.
{Isabel Delacruz}
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Craft:
DIY Stamps
What you need:
Craft Foam Sheets
Scissors or Exactor Knife
Small Wooden Block
Glue
Ink
Cut your foam sheet into the shape you want your stamp to be. Then glue the foam shapes onto your wood block and let dry. Stamp away!
{Charity Clothespin}
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Quote of the Month:
A thing of beauty is a joy forever.
~ John Keats
{Georgie Hawthorne}
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The Benefactor
A young widow sees the hand of God providing for her through a mysterious friend. To read earlier entries, please visit our website.
Seven
"Mom, you're not going to believe what I just did." Bryn called down the hall as she dumped the bags in her room.
"What?" Naomi was knitting in the living room, and looked up as Bryn joined her.
"I invited Eric to come watch the game here on Sunday."
"I believe you." Naomi smiled, annoyingly unsurprised. "You don't have any reason to lie to me."
Bryn hesitated. "Well, I'm the one who issued the invitation, and I can't even believe I did it. I don't know what got into me." Chuckling, she bent over and picked Josie up.
"I think you like him."
"Of course I like him! He's a nice—Mom!" Her eyes flew to the portrait of her and Andrew on their wedding day, and disappointed tears sprang to her eyes as angry words leaped to her tongue. "Mom, how can you do that to me! How can you say that, when I'm still grieving?"
Instantly sorry, Naomi apologized gently. "It was insensitive, Bryn. Forgive me.." She watched sadly as Bryn dropped her head into her hands, sitting silently until Bryn looked up and reached for a tissue.
"Will you forgive me for it, Bryn?"
Bryn nodded as she blew her nose.
"Thank you." A long pause followed, in which the only sounds was the clicking of Naomi's needles, and the cooing of Josie's quiet play, then Naomi spoke softly. "Can I speak straight with you, sweetie?"
Bryn’s heart did a funny sink, like it did when she was young and about to get in trouble for something, but she shrugged and agreed. "Sure."
"I know the pain of losing a spouse. Mine was a very different situation, I know. I had the happiness of being married for thirty some years, rather than four, and had seven months to prepare myself for his death, while you had no time at all, but I want you to listen to me with an open mind because I've been here before."
Bryn nodded, swallowing her pride like she was gulping at the lump in her throat.
"It's very hard to voluntarily let go of someone; it's even harder when he's wrenched from you, but in either situation, the loss comes from the perfect hand of God. Impossible as it is for us to understand, God took our husbands from us, and we need to accept that. I believe that you have. But there's a plan loosely outlined in the bible for widows that is the next step in your journey, and it's not any easier than the first." Bryn shifted uncomfortably.
"You need to leave your mind open to eventual remarriage; it’s a way God outlines for your, for our, provision and happiness, and while I know the thought is reviling to think about right now, I think you should work towards the goal of opening your mind to the possibilities." Gazing kindly at Bryn, she continued. "Honey, when you walked down the aisle with your dad, you'll remember that I was pushing him in a wheelchair while he held your hand. I cried the whole processional because I was so happy that he had been able to see his little girl get married, and yet so sad because I knew that he would miss all the other milestones—first grandchild, Christmas mornings with the whole clan..." Her voice broke. "I never dreamed of the pain you would go through just months later, but I can tell you now that you and I both promised our husbands 'til death do us part', and because death has parted us, we are both not just free to move on, but recommended in God's word to do what we can to remarry. My teasing you just now was all in fun, but behind it was an assumption that you were ready to start this next leg of your journey to healing. Right now, you are clearly not ready, but I've said what I've said so you can consider beginning to walk that path."
Bryn steadily looked away, and after a few moments sighed. "I know you're right. I don't know that I'm there, yet, though. I just started my mourning, which I should have done right away, but..." Turning red eyes towards her mother, she spoke slowly, almost pleadingly. "How did you start?"
Naomi smiled at her sadly. "I took my ring off my left hand, and put it on my right. That way, I could still sort of feel close to him day by day, but not as my husband, per se, rather a beautiful memory. Only after a year, though. I gave myself the traditional mourning-year, then made myself begin moving forward."
Bryn studied her ring, turning it so it caught the light. The silver gleamed, and the diamonds sparkled nearly like they did on her wedding day, but Bryn thought that her pain had affected the ring somehow, for there just seemed to be something worn and weary about it.
"I don't know." She sighed again. "I'm not sure I can do it. I feel like my mourning-year is just starting —like I was just hurting before, not grieving."
Naomi shrugged. "I understand. But, Bryn, because the healing process is what God wants for you, I challenge you to start it as soon as you can. If you wait till you're ready, you will never begin. The beginning makes you ready. So, when I say what I'm about to say, know that I say it for your sake. If you want me to stay with you for an extended period of time, I want you to start your journey of letting go, so that if you find someone who would be a better housemate than me, your heart is ready and willing; the ring should move." She spoke so gently and kindly that Bryn didn't feel threatened or judged, rather grateful and open. She looked up at her mom, swallowed, and nodded.
*****
"So, wait," Bryn couldn't believe her ears. "The Benefactor led you to Christ?"
It was two days later, and she sat talking with Anne over break on her first day, and had listened to her story with amazement. Anne looked at her, obviously confused and slightly disturbed.
"You said it was a white envelope, with a yellow Post-It, right?" Anne nodded, still lost.
"That's classic Benefactor style!" Bryn laughed, and explained. "The only difference is, he left you a bible, not just money." She finished.
"Huh." Anne shrugged, still obviously muddled. "I guess. That's cool. But you said that you've received similar gifts?"
"I've only gotten one. How about you?"
"Well, I never thought about their being connected, but I did find another white envelope with my name on it a couple weeks ago. I don't know why I didn't connect the dots!"
"Was there a yellow sticky note?"
Anne shook her head. “Not that I remember exactly…”
"Well, that's probably why. A detail like that would have certainly drawn your attention."
"I don't know," Anne laughed with a shake of her head, "I'm not particularly observant. My mom used to joke that I was really a blonde, I just dyed my hair."
Bryn smiled, but Anne went on. "But if the sticky note is such a big part of the whole Benefactor thing, then it's probably not a connected incident."
"He probably just forgot." Bryn chuckled. "Maybe he's blonde, too."
*****
"Hello!" Eric stepped into the living room, calling to Bryn, standing in the kitchen. "Sorry about that. Phone call I had to take." After following her home, then staying out in the car for nearly ten minutes, Bryn understood why he would feel sheepish.
"Oh, that's fine. I'm just taking this out of the oven, and Mom's upstairs putting Josie down for a nap. She'll be down in a second."
"Ah." Bryn noticed his eyes tracing the room, looking at all the pictures hanging on the wall. "What was your husband's name and rank?" He asked.
"Marine Sergeant Andrew Meadows."
"I see." Eric pulled out a chair from the dining room table and sat down.
Realizing she hadn't offered him a seat, Bryn felt flustered, and asked if he wanted some water. She wished her mom would come down. She was a loser at entertaining.
"Yes, thank you." He took the glass from her, and sipped at it. "How did you guys meet?"
"He was my friend's older brother up in Minnesota. I didn't really get to know him, though, until I moved to the Chicago area for school along with his sister. He came to visit her and their cousins over a couple month injury leave. He intended to go home to see his parents, too, but he spent it all down here, visiting with me." She smiled slightly. "I think they caught on pretty quickly to the fact that he'd be spending his spare time in Illinois, so they actually bought a house and moved down here. Anyway, we were married only a year later." She realized that somehow, she was talking about her husband and behaving like a sane human being, not falling apart at the seams.
"How long were you married?"
"Five years."
"Wow." He looked at her sadly.
"Yeah." Sighing, she wondered what was taking Naomi so long. Distracted by listening for any signs of her return, she tried to carry on the conversation.
"What about you?"
Obviously taken aback, Eric laughed. "I've actually never been married."
"Oh, right! Sorry--I meant regarding your past. Where you're from, etc." Bryn cringed in embarrassment.
"Don't worry about it. I'm originally from a city south of here. I lived in an apartment with my single mom and went to school like nearly every other kid I knew." He hesitated as Naomi slipped in.
Stopping short of saying "finally!", Bryn caught Naomi up on their conversation. "He was just telling me about his childhood, and saying how he had a single mom."
"Yes, but she left me when I was sixteen, I'm guessing for a man who didn't want a partner with kids. At least not a sixteen year old." He chuckled. "I woke up one morning to an empty apartment, greeted at the breakfast table by only an eviction notice, my birth certificate, other documents, including one signed by my mother indicating her wish that my guardianship be transferred to my grandfather who lived here in Princeton, and a fifty dollar bill. To this day, I have no idea where she is."
"Oh, Eric, that's awful!" Bryn came around into the dining room, and set the warm dish on the table. "That's certainly not the easiest path a sixteen year old kid has had to walk."
"No, but I believe it was the best for me." Surprised, Bryn looked at him. "I made it through. Really, I should say, God pulled me through. I had been a pretty good kid up till then, but I'd started down a harmful track, and if God hadn't used my grandpa to speak His love to me, I'd be doing some pretty stupid things, and living a completely different life right now."
"Wow." Naomi reached for a chip. "So you've lived nearby ever since?"
"Pretty much, except for school. I started at the community college, then spent the next six years at college and med school in Arizona. Bryn, this stuff's phenomenal!"
"Thanks! Feel free to take it into the living room, though; the game will be starting soon."
As they all sat on the couch in the living room, carrying on about how they chose their favorite teams, Bryn's phone started beeping.
"What's that?" Eric asked, evidently startled.
"Oh, sorry. It's an app I have on my phone." Bryn explained, pulling her smartphone out of her pocket. "The beeping tells me that Josie's been making noise for three minutes. I had the option to have it go off right away, or after one minute, three or five. I choose three--that way, I can know for sure that she's not going back to sleep, but she isn't waiting for as long as five minutes. Then, I can open the app, like this," she tapped the screen, and turned the phone, showing him a live feed of the little girl's room. "I usually check to make sure she isn't talking in her sleep or something, but as you can see, she's bouncing up and down in her crib. She's definitely ready to get up, but that wasn't even a two and a half hour nap. Should I leave her for a while, Mom, and hope she drops off again?"
"Honey, from the looks of that jumping, any dropping will be out, not off." Naomi laughed.
"Alright," Bryn sighed, preparing to push herself up of the couch. "I'll be right back."
"Wait!" Eric stood up quickly. "Do you think she'd object to me picking her up?"
"No. She just wants to get out of that crib. Anybody who does it will be an angel in her eyes, even if she has no idea who they are. Thanks!" She called, as Eric moved towards the stairs. "I'll come change her, though. The diaper bag's up there." She started to get up and follow him.
"Don't worry about a thing, Bryn," he chuckled. "I'll get her and the bag and you can relax. It's fine. I know a little bit about kids." He grinned as she sheepishly dropped back on the sofa.
Of course he does, she thought with some embarrassment, he's a pediatric physician. In a moment, however, she was suddenly struck with a worry that he'd be looking in random rooms till he found the one he needed, so she called out,
"Turn right at the top of the stairs. It's the first door on the left."
"You don't happen to mean the one with a cute little wooden plaque hanging on it that says 'Josie', do you?" He laughed from the stairs, carrying her daughter and the diaper bag that was bigger than the infant it provided for. "Really, Bryn, I'm neither a snoop nor an idiot. Here's your Josie, and here's your bag." He laughed and grunted as he deposited both on the floor at her feet. "What do you keep in that thing? Her bowling ball?"
Bryn chuckled and shook her head. "You'd be surprised how heavy diapers, extra cans of baby food, toys, a change of clothes, plus the regular contents of my purse can get."
As she knelt down and reached for the diaper bag, Eric resumed his seat at the other end of the sofa.
"I haven't asked you yet," he said as the game went to commercials, "how are you liking it there at McDonald's?"
"Oh, fine!" Bryn exclaimed, "Anne is amazing and we get along very well. We actually have a good amount of things in common. I mean, she's had things really rough, and I can’t imagine living her past. She's an incredible young woman who is a huge blessing and example to me, we're both raising young children without a spouse, and are both recipients of those Benefactor things. God actually used the Benefactor, this mysterious unknown guy, to bring her to Christ, and she says it was a gift of fifty bucks and a bible one Friday night that has inspired her to be totally transformed, with hope and strength to keep going. Isn't that cool?"
Naomi nodded as she took a bit into a tortilla chip, but Eric just looked at Bryn in disbelieving interest. After a moment, he laughed a little, and shook his head.
"Seriously? That's incredible!"
"It is." Bryn agreed. "I don't know quite what to think about it; the whole situation is so unusual. I mean the Benefactor thing. I do wonder, though, if the guy's heard all the stories."
"I'm sure he doesn't know all the stories," Eric shrugged, "but I'll bet he's aware of some of them."
"You're probably right."
The commercials now over, and the game beginning again, the conversation dwindled slightly. Bryn sat on the couch, outwardly watching the game, but inwardly thinking.
Was it wise to have invited Eric over? Her mom had done so first, but still, having an eligible man over to watch a football game with two unmarried women did seem a little weird. However, since he had accepted, and was sitting on the other end of the sofa, playing peacefully with Josie, she brushed it off and turned her attentions once again to the game.
The home team lined up, ten yards from scoring. Bryn glanced at Josie, and noticed Eric suddenly look down at her, too. He smiled as the little girl handed him a toy, and Bryn turned back to the screen, catching the last sequence of a cheerleading shot. If she had wondered why Eric had so quickly lowered his eyes, she didn't anymore. Impressed, Bryn made eye contact with Naomi. That level of honor and purity caught her attention, and she smiled. He wouldn't look at anything he shouldn't, and he would protect the things that mattered to him. As she watched him settling in again, holding her daughter in his lap, she knew that she had absolutely nothing to fear from him or anybody else when he was in her home. She was sorry she'd ever doubted him.
Editor/Author Note: This serial is a trial run on my part. I’d love to get fellow amateur writers’ opinions on it as I experiment with the idea of completing this novel. Thank you! ~A
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Book: Barnaby Rudge by Charles Dickens Similar in style to his A Tale of Two Cities, Dickens’s Barnaby Rudge is set during the 1775 Gordon Riots, a time in England’s history where anarchy ruled in the name of anti-Catholic Protestantism. Describing the thoughtless pain that popular movements can cause through abuse of power and reckless destruction, it’s not as humorous as many of his other works, but very potent in its themes.
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Corrections from Gazette, January 2014 :
~The gazette bore conflicting reports regarding the theme of the month. The theme was Love, not Treasure.
~Also, in the Original Works section, January’s issue of The Benefactor was Chapter 6, not 5.
~ Chapter 6 of The Benefactor was an unedited version, I have updated the former post to the edited version of the chapter
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