Before the spring wore very far into summer, the prospects on the farm were so poor that Clara made her decision to leave for work in the city. Daddy wiped the tears away as he bid her good-bye. It was more than a little comfort to put her into the keeping of Mrs. Eaton whom he respected as a fine person. She was to train under Marguerite for two weeks.
Clara squeezed Mary Jane’s hand and whispered, “I’ll send you k ids some pretty dresses now and then.”
Clara was sorely missed. At least in one area – the garden – her services were not required. Although it had been planted as usual, it was in sad condition. The windmill pumped enough water to irrigate it, but a new scourge had come. Great brownish-gray grasshoppers had moved in and left little for the human beings. The plague was not so bad at the Hillman’s farm as it was south and east in the dustbowl area. One day Wes Corder who lived to the south stopped by.
“Ned,” he said, “it’s bad. I just come from Yoder. You’re gonna think I’m lyin’ to ya, but this is the truth or my name ain’t Wes Corder. The grasshoppers was crossin’ the highway in a regular army. My pick-up, and I ain’t lyin’, my pick-up actually skidded in crushed hoppers as I drove through ‘em. Them poor fellers is done fer and we ain’t fer behind.”
Ned listened quietly. Both men looked very solemn indeed. Then Mr. Hillman spoke.
“Wes, I’m concerned – mighty concerned – but my Bible reads this away: ‘My God shall supply all your need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus’ (Phil. 4:1919But my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus. (Philippians 4:19)). Now I don’t expect to be eatin’ apple pie all the time, but I know the Lord is going to take care of our needs. More important, He has taken care of all my sins and I know I have a future up there in the glory with Him. Nothing – no drought – no nothing can change it. Now wouldn’t you like to know the God that can do all that fer a feller?”
Wes spat tobacco juice expertly into the coal bucket. Mamma shuddered slightly.
“Aw, Ned,” he drawled. “Git outa the clouds and down to earth. Anyways, if yer God is so good and kind, how come He sent all them grasshoppers instead of the rain we need?” A hard look settled over his unshaven face. “I reckon I’ll be shovin’ off now. So long.”
Daddy saw him to his pick-up and walked slowly back. Time lay a little heavy on his hands, as the usual farm work was useless. He sighed heavily and picked up his Bible. Mary Jane had been dusting the living room. She sensed more trouble and bent to pat and kiss his balding head.
“The shield of faith, honey. When it aint’ up them old darts of fear and worry fly thick and fast. Somehow the Lord will see us through.”
“Mary Jane,” Mamma called from the kitchen. “I think some green salad would be nice for dinner.
Mary Jane meditates by the Windmill Pond. How about you running out to get some for us?”
“But, Mamma, the lettuce is ruined. We looked at it together.”
“Oh, I know,” said Mamma stepping to the door of the room, “but remember – I showed you that weed we call ‘lamb’s quarters’? It makes good greens. Weeds get by where the garden vegetables can’t. Dandelion green will do in a pinch too. Oh, we’ll eat I think.”
Daddy laughed. “Truer words was never spoke. Weeds can take anything almost and go to seed. Why, I’ve seen weeds that normally grow three feet high fruit out at three inches high. If you can turn the curse to our advantage, Mom, you’ll do all right.”
Later as Mary Jane went to gather her harvest she thought to herself, “It’s a good thing for us that Mamma was a poor little girl and learned ways to live off the land. Those mushrooms she picked last week were really great. And I’d rather eat cotton tails and little jack rabbits than roast beef. But mortgages and stuff – I wish there was a law against ‘em.”
Down by the irrigation ditch near the sad little garden was a plentiful supply of the weed Mamma had showed her – lamb’s quarters.
“What a curious name – or is it? It’s meant, of course, for wooly lambs, but we’re God’s lambs and sheep – it’s all through the Bible. It’s kind of sweet to think of the Lord Jesus giving us some nice ‘lettuce’ to go with our potatoes.”
“Makes you feel a little like Elijah, eh, Mary Jane?” Mary Jane jumped. She was so deep in her thoughts that she had not noticed Daddy come up behind her.
“Yes, Daddy. God fed him by the ravens, didn’t He?”
Picking one of the little plants, Daddy toyed with it thoughtfully. “The going may get pretty rough before long, honey. Take a good look at this tender little weed now. Look at it as a pledge that we’ll be fed too from the hand of God. Lamb’s quarters we are the sheep of His pasture – His lambs, if you please.”
Smiling up at Daddy, Mary Jane replied softly, “I was just thinking the same thing.”
“Funny how the Lord could use a little old weed to encourage our faith. A weed, you know is a symbol of the curse; but God can turn it for us lambs as a symbol of His loving care. I came down to check out that grasshopper poison I got from the government. While you are gathering our greens, I’m going to see if it’s made any progress on them rascals as is eatin’ our garden.”
Later that week great thunderheads began gathering over the mountains to the west. Usually the wind tore them apart and eager rain watchers turned away again disappointed. Today, however, about three in the afternoon, the sky appeared to be darkening noticeably. Mother called to Jennie.
“Have you looked at the sky lately? I think you’d better saddle Macey and get the cows in quick. I’ve an idea we’re in for rain or hail!”
Jennie was ironing some material she was preparing to sew into a dress for her college career beginning in September.
“Oh, Mamma! I just saw Macey and Lucy race by in a playful gallop. No telling how far they’ve gone. I’ll see if I can see them.”
The two horses had sensed a coming storm and had run far to the north in a spurt of excitement. Jennie saw two small creatures quite far away just disappearing over the hill.
“Yep! It’d take as long to get them as the cows. Could I take the old car?”
“But, honey, suppose you were caught in the rain? In no time the mud would get you. Maybe Lori had better go too. If necessary you could shelter in the old Zike house.”
“Okay. But where is Lori? Painting, I suppose.” Lori had sent away for a set of oil paints. She had outstripped everyone else in the family for her artistry and was turning out paintings of mountains, deer and just about any nature scene one could desire all very much to Daddy’s delight.
Soon the girls were walking briskly to the pasture where they could see the cows, fortunately near the old house. It had once been the one-room quarters of the country school teacher back when Marguerite began school.
“Jennie! Look at the greenish-gray color at the edge of those awful clouds. Let’s run. Its going to really rain or hail!”
Just as they reached the cows – all breathless great drops began to fall.
“Run for the house, Lori!”
They slammed the old door shut as a great clap of thunder sounded and lightning cracked nearby. The heavens opened and torrents of hail drove mercilessly across the bleak hills and whitened the ground. The girls looked around the rat-infested room for the most sheltered corner. Since there was no glass in the two windows, they sought a dry spot near the quaint old broken-down range. The but was a sturdy structure built by sturdy men. The walls were constructed of stone and plastered over so that they were a good six or eight inches thick.
Huddled together with the rain sweeping in the windows, the two had time to contemplate.
“You know, Jennie, it’s a shame for this place to decay in ruin. Can’t you just see how cozy it could look with pretty curtains and a braided rug? It commands a view of the whole country up here on the hill.”
“It would make a cute honeymoon cottage. Do you remember Mamma telling about Miss Johnson? She came out one morning to see a big timber wolf standing off there to the right. Wow! But speaking of wolves, the kind I’m scared of is the two-legged kind. I don’t like the looks of those beer cans and cigarette butts.”
“Me either. It occurred to me some tramp might even now be hiking up here from the highway. It isn’t far away, you know.”
“Lori, do you suppose we ought to climb up into the attic? It might be dryer too. But then if someone came, we couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t find us up there.”
Just then a gust of wind slapped the house and a great crash sounded from above. How could they know it was only a rusty hinge letting a little inside shutter fall to the floor?
Jennie was naturally brave, and her faith was very real and strong. “I think we need to pray, Lori, and then we’ll sing hymns. We might as well talk ourselves into it. We’ll probably not get home tonight. It’s still pouring rain and you know what’s between here and home.”
They sat quietly and each in her own way communed with the Father above. Hymns and fragments of hymns were sung to while away the next two hours. At last they were quiet, having exhausted every note of their musical knowledge. There was no need to mention the steady, dull roar which they had both been hearing. In their minds they could see the dark, swirling flood waters pouring over the ledge down near the pond in a miniature Niagara Falls. In the darkness and steady rain it would be foolhardy to attempt to get home.
Lori thought she heard a strange squish-squash somewhere out in the darkness. Her heart skipped a beat as she thought of tramps. Hoping it was one of the cattle, she considered it best to be quiet. Jennie had her eyes closed in prayer, but the regular rhythm of the sound was unmistakable. She grabbed Lori’s arm.
“Quick! To the attic!’’
In the darkness Lori’s foot caught a beer can which noisily skittered into the old stove. The clash of metal against metal sounded to them louder than the report of a gun. Just then a loud masculine voice sounded clearly above the wind and rain.
“Jennie! Lori! Are you there?”
Good old Daddy! He had braved the flooding creek and storm to come for them. He had a lantern too and some food.
“Oh, Daddy! It won’t seem bad at all to stay here now with you!” Lori sighed after eating a few bites of her sandwich.
“Stay here!” Daddy ejaculated. “Shucks, girls, we cain’t stay here. We’re going home.”
“But how did you ever get across the creek to come here, Daddy?” Jennie asked. “I was so glad to see you and so hungry I forgot to ask.”
“Well, now the crick is going down some. I know it’s roaring at a great rate. But down near where it goes under the fence by French’s forty, it narrows down some. I jest pole vaulted across her there. Nothin’ to it. I’m sure you gals, being spry’s grasshoppers, kin do it too. Don’t look so shook, Lori, your old pop’ll show you how and see ya get over safe. I think we can count on it being even easier than when I came across.”
Lori suddenly lost her appetite for the sandwiches and cookies. She was the most un-athletic of all the girls. Her gentle suggestions that she didn’t mind sleeping on the floor and that it really wasn’t too cold went unheeded. Jennie was no support, being as confident as her father.
To walk in the mud the distance to the roaring gulch took no small effort, and they had to stop occasionally to clear the balls of mud from their shoes. Lori’s apprehension grew.
Daddy’s spirits were high. “We lost the spring planting and the fields is washed out some, but this rain’ll save the pasture and the livestock. It’s a lot to thank the Lord fer.”
Lori was thankful, but she hoped to live to be more thankful. The inevitable crossing lay dead ahead.
“Yeah, nothin’ at all to it now. She’s gone down a lot. Ready girls? Now watch me.”
He grabbed the pole and aided by momentum from a little run, swung expertly across. He repeated and returned. “Who’s first now? Think ya got the hang of it?”
“Sure, Pop! Give me the pole.” And Jennie was across before Lori could recover enough to open her eyes to see how her sister did.
“Toss it back now!” Daddy called. “Here we go, Lori. Watch agin and I’ll do it a mite slower.” Time was running out. A quick “Lord, please help me!” was sent up above and Lori grasped the pole. “Don’t look! Just do it!” yelled Jennie.
So Lori shut her eyes and made the little run. She would have made it fine, except for that quick look at the chocolate swirling water. The pause weakened her thrust and she landed in the slimy five inches of mud left by the flood at its crest. There was no standing there. But Daddy’s quick strong hand caught her, and Lori was safe.
“I knew it, Daddy! I knew I’d fall!” she cried, swiping at the thick mud on her skirt and knees.
“A little short on faith there, honey,” said Daddy comfortingly. “Next time don’t be a Peter, Lori. Yer mistake was lookin’ at the waves.”
Home again at last, and oh, what luxuries – a bath, clean clothes and the comfort of the old iron bed!
“Oh, Jennie,” Lori observed to her sister. “I hope I never forget to thank the Lord for my good old clean bed every single night!”