*****

Divine Appointments

What little courage I had and desperately embraced was ripped from me and teasingly floated beyond my grasp.

Other than my 4-year-old daughter, Pearl, my meager fortitude was all I had to push me to survive and live. In a splintering moment, it had vanished. I fought all that was heaped upon me these past few years, and now a minor occurrence would cause my final defeat. A shattered ax handle destroyed everything and seemingly wrote the final chapter for me and my precious little girl.

I fell on my knees and screamed my final cry to the heavens. “Please, Lord, take us quickly.”

I collapsed into the snow and wailed while I awaited the end.

“Ma’am?”

His voice startled my eyes open and my bladder immediately evacuated its contents. I beheld a frightening sight, sure he was the very image of death coming to take me. What little light existed was behind him and he appeared as a tall, dark, faceless shadow.

I laid down and cried, expecting to depart this world. He gathered and begin to carry me. I realized he was taking me into the cabin and my thoughts turned to Pearl.

“Please have mercy on my daughter.”

“I have you, ma’am. Let’s get you warm.”

He laid me on the bed next to Pearl and placed our remaining quilts over us. Pearl was ill and, although her eyes grew wide at the site if this man, her fever, fear, and weakness held her still.

The strange man looked around the cabin and I could see him more clearly as my eyes adjusted to the light. He was very tall and had long, brown hair escaping the sides of his winter hat. It appeared he had several days’ growth of beard, and thus he seemed ragged. After searching his surroundings he looked directly at me and I could see his brown eyes for the first time. I sensed kindness, and yet emptiness. His smile was genuine and settled my soul. Without true cause, I felt safe in his presence.

“Ma’am, do you have any firewood? It’s as cold in here as it is outdoors.”

“No, sir. I was trying to cut and split some large logs when the ax broke.”

“Excuse me, ma’am. I’ll be right back.”

He left for only a moment, then returned with a rifle. I shuddered for a moment until he propped it up by the door. He must have been carrying it until he picked me off the ground. Once again, he left but returned within a few minutes.

“Ma’am, there’s nothing outside to use for a fire.”

I saw him wandering around the room and observing our home. He noticed how empty it was. I had used most of the few pieces of furniture for fuel. All that remained was our mattress on the floor. I watched him observe that the kitchen cupboards were empty. He hung his head when he considered our home’s conditions.

He walked to where Pearl and I were laying, and I saw him smile warmly at my little girl. He must have seen in her eyes that she was not well. He removed his glove and brushed her blonde hair from the side of her face in a subtle attempt to feel her temperature. His smile remained, but his eyes betrayed his concern.

“Ma’am, you can’t stay here in this weather.”

I was defeated and nodded in agreement.

“I live a little over a mile down the road. I’m going to walk home and come back with my automobile to get you and your little girl. You’ll be safe and warm with me for a while, and I have plenty of provisions.”

I nodded, but he saw the fear in my eyes. “I have no way to repay you, sir.”

He took my hand and with his deep, rumbling voice he said as softly as he could, “Ma’am, I expect nothing except your wellbeing.” His smile melted my fears. “While I’m gone you should change out of your cold and wet clothes, and gather up whatever you may need. Keep your daughter comfortable, and I’ll have a warm place next to the fire for her to rest.”

Before I could say a word, he retrieved his rifle and quickly made his way out the door.

I barely had time to collect our clothes and bedding when I heard him knock at our door. I knew he sensed an urgency to help us, so he entered before I could respond.

“Ready, ma’am?”

“Yes, sir.”

He gave me a warm, comforting smile as he went to the bed and picked up my daughter.

“Hello, princess. I’m Mister Bill. What’s your name?”

The fear on her face softened as she responded bashfully. “Pearl.”

“Pearl! What a beautiful name for a pretty little girl. We’re going to find you a nice, warm place to rest a bit if it’s alright with you.”

She snuggled into him with full acceptance of his care, and my heart warmed for the first time in many months.

Bill made sure we were comfortable in his automobile, which looked like the Model T Fords I’ve seen but in the rear it had a platform that looked more like a delivery truck. He gathered the remaining items from the cabin that I couldn’t carry and proceeded to take us to his home. My fears started to rise as I realized my vulnerability. I was trusting this strange, yet friendly man with everything. I resolved that I would withstand anything as long as Pearl was safe. I prayed that his motives were honorable.

Bill guided his vehicle near the front door of a very large log cabin. Unlike the small hunter’s cabin Pearl and I occupied, this was a large dwelling that was clearly a permanent residence. I walked in as Bill carried Pearl behind me, and I immediately felt the warmth we so desperately needed. To the left, there was a roaring fire blazing in a large, walk-in fireplace. Bill carefully placed Pearl on a sofa facing the fire and made sure she was comfortable. He replaced the cold wrappings from my home with quilts that were already warm from the fire, and I saw my lovely daughter smile in contentment for the first time since early autumn. It was now early December, and I was sure we would not have lived to see Christmas in this exceptionally cold season.

“Ma’am, please sit near the fire and I’ll get you both tea to warm you and something to eat.”

While he retrieved our tea I observed his glorious home. The main room was large and open with various functional areas. Around the fireplace, the sofa and four stuffed chairs provided the comfortable feel of a parlor. A large farmer’s table stood between the parlor and kitchen. The back wall next to the parlor had more shelves of books than I’d ever seen in one place. A large desk further defined this area as an office. His home had a comforting aroma from the scent of the wood fire mingled with a slightly musty odor from the old books.

The room had a rustic elegance that seemed to combine an odd assortment of adornments. Some furniture seemed elegant, while other pieces appeared more suitable for a single man’s home. The curtains were greatly out of place for a gentleman living alone. They were made of fine lace and appeared to belong in a home where the family enjoyed wealth. A small photograph of a beautiful young woman was placed in the center of the mantle over the fireplace. I assumed there was a woman living here either now or in the not-too-distant past. The photograph and its surrounding trinkets were clearly a memorial.

“Your tea, ma’am,” he offered as he set a steaming cup next to me. “I’ll put Pearl’s here too so you can give it to her when it cools a little.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I have some bread and cured meat to satisfy your hunger until dinner is ready. I’ll be right back and then, perhaps, we can introduce ourselves.”

He walked to the kitchen and I noticed a dignity in his stride. He was not an ignorant backwoodsman. The books, his speech, and his mannerisms all strongly indicated that Bill was an educated man. My curiosity was only eclipsed by my strong gratitude.

He walked to Pearl first and gave her some buttered bread and a piece of meat that reminded me of the type of cured meats my mother had for us when I was young. Pearl was still very quiet and I knew she was not feeling well, but she smiled brightly at the offering Bill handed her. I was thankful she seemed to feel well enough that her appetite had improved, or maybe she was eager to have something to eat other than the beans we had been living on for the past few weeks.

“Here’s a plate for you, ma’am.” Bill took a seat above Pearl’s head on the sofa and smiled as they made eye contact. “Now I know this pretty little lady here is Pearl, so I guess now would be a good time to learn your name, ma’am.”

I couldn’t help but smile when I saw Pearl’s response in her face. “I’m Balbine. Balbine Mathis. But please call me Bal as do my friends and family.”

“Bal, it’s a true pleasure to meet you.”

“Sir, the honor is mine and Pearl’s. I have no doubt we owe you our lives.”

“Bal, I’m just glad I found you. I’m William Ness, but please call me Bill. And it’s my pleasure to have your company and I beg you not to feel as if you owe me anything.”

“You are too kind, Bill. But regardless of what you say, we owe you everything. I’m wondering how you came upon us so providentially.”

“I believe it truly was providential, or what I call a ‘divine appointment.’ I was returning home from hunting for my dinner, and after I dropped several rabbits I chose to take a long route to avoid several other hunters I heard in the area. My route home took me past your cabin and I heard your rather desperate cry.”

“I was entirely desperate, and you are a miraculous answer to my prayer.”

Bill began stroking Pearl’s hair as she gently drifted off to sleep. “I’m sure we have a lot to talk about, and we can answer each other’s questions at dinner. For now, the two of you should rest and I’ll prepare our meal.”

“I’ll help,” I offered.

“Not today, Bal. Please, rest.”

He made me feel so comfortable in his home and, truthfully, I was glad I could just sit and rest. My mental anguish combined with being drained physically had me on the verge of complete exhaustion. Bill arose and went to skin and butcher the rabbits. I fought my eyelids until minutes later when he descended into the root cellar and sleep won its battle with my consciousness.

I awoke slowly from a restful nap and initially struggled to place my surroundings. My panic quickly subsided, and the soft glow of oil lamps confirmed that the sun had set. As to how long ago, I didn’t know.

Then I saw the most wonderful sight I could imagine.

Bill had washed, shaved, and changed into clean clothes. He was seated on the sofa and Pearl was peacefully sleeping in his arms. He didn’t notice that I was awake, and I heard him softly humming a tune as he cradled my daughter in his arms. She was stirring, so I knew she was partially awake. But she was extremely content in her surroundings. Bill’s warm eyes watched her and glistened with emotion. A tear escaped when I considered how this day had begun, and how we now found ourselves in the comfortable and safe company of a real gentleman. I closed my eyes and thanked God for his care.

“She likes resting in your arms,” I softly said.

I startled him a little as he was clearly lost in thought.

“She’s a precious young lady. Her fever is breaking, and she seems more comfortable.”

“Mommy?” She looked at me without leaving his embrace.

“Hi, Sweetie. Are you feeling better?”

“Yes. And I’m hungry.” She slowly rose and came to me for a hug.

“The two of you can wash up in the bathroom. I have running water and there is an indoor privy. I’ll get dinner on the table.”

Unlike my family’s home in Pennsylvania, the house didn’t have electric, but the indoor plumbing out here in the wilderness was a true blessing. Surprisingly, there was even hot water. A kerosene space heater in the bathroom kept it comfortable.

With personal business finished, we sat at the table while Bill dished up some wonderful rabbit stew with carrots, potatoes, parsnips, onions, and sprigs of thyme. A bottle of wine and a basket of fresh rolls were staged for our meal. We held hands and Bill thanked God for His provision and for bringing our paths together.

“Bill, this is wonderful. We haven’t had anything worth eating for several days, and now you’ve prepared a feast beyond imagination. You’re an amazing man.”

“I wouldn’t say amazing, but thank you just the same. Do you like wine?”

“My family is originally from France, so wine is in our blood. I’m surprised you have any here in the Pocono Mountains.”

“My brother is a wine importer in Newark. He sends me a case of assorted European wines about once a month. This is a Beaujolais that he knows is a favorite of mine.”

My mouth was in heaven. The meal was perfectly prepared and seemed to reflect the atmosphere in the house in that it was both rustic and elegant. As we finished and settled in front of the fire, I knew Bill would have questions. I instinctively trusted him with the answers.

“Thank you for that wonderful dinner. You’re a marvelous cook for a man living alone in the woods.” I smiled at him letting him know it was all meant as a compliment.

“You’re most welcomed, Bal. I’ve come to enjoy cooking in the past several years.”

“You do well, sir.”

“Thank you. Bal, I hope you feel comfortable staying here. I think you and Pearl should stay, at least for the winter, unless you have a safe option where food and shelter are available.”

I felt silent tears begin to cascade down my cheeks. “I have no options. That cabin was my last hope.”

“Then say no more. This is your home and Pearl’s home for the foreseeable future.”

“You are too kind, but we would be imposing on your hospitality to consider staying more than a day or two.”

“Please understand that having you here is not an imposition whatsoever. In fact, I’m looking forward to your company. It’s rather lonely out here and I’m getting tired of talking to trees. They’re good listeners, but terrible conversationalists.”

He laughed at his own joke and I found it endearing.

“Bal, is it presumptuous for me to ask how that hunting cabin became your only remaining choice?”

“It’s not presumptuous at all. If for no other reason than your kindness, I think I owe it to you to tell you everything. But right now, there’s a little girl who should be in bed. Do you have a place in mind?”

“There are two beds in the loft, and it stays warm up there. But I wonder if tonight it would be better to have you both stay in my bedroom down here until Pearl can get comfortable running around the house tomorrow.”

“Do you mean your bed?”

“Yes. I’ll stay upstairs tonight. The stairs are a bit steep and I don’t want her wandering down them in the middle of the night until she’s comfortable with them.”

Bill carried Pearl into the master bedroom and helped me tuck her in. Normally I would make up a bedtime story, but Bill asked if he could read to her. He chose the account in the Bible of Jonah and the whale and told her in a few words what the story means to us. Then he prayed with her, kissed her on the forehead as did I, and we left her to drift off to sleep.

I sat back in the chair I previously occupied as Bill settled into a similar chair facing me from the other side of the sofa.

“She is a sweet girl, Bal. God has truly blessed you with a wonderful child.”

I started to softly cry. “I thought for certain that God would be calling us home today until you saved us.”

“Please know your presence is a blessing to me as well. Until today, I didn’t realize how much loneliness and isolation were consuming me. Just sitting here and talking with you has greatly warmed my heart.”

“I guess you would like to know why I live in that cabin?”

“Yes, but I hope we can safely say ‘lived’ in that cabin. At least, for now.”

I smiled. Bill was not really flirting with me. In fact, I felt he was trying to keep an appropriate distance. But I felt a glow in my heart from his teasing smile. I wasn’t sure if it was because of what he was doing for Pearl and me, or if I was feeling something deeper. Those thoughts would need to be addressed later. I owed Bill an account of my life and why his sudden appearance seemed providential for certain, but in my mind, it was completely miraculous.

“I guess you could say the cabin was the final indignity in a long chain of events. I grew up in Scranton with my parents and my two younger brothers. In 1917, when I was seventeen years old, a lifelong friend of mine began courting me. His name was Robert Mathis and we quickly fell in love. He was called up in the very first wave of the selective service draft and was scheduled to leave in short order. We agreed to marry before he left. One week after our wedding, Robert was off to the Great War.”

“You didn’t have much of a honeymoon then, did you?”

“I guess you could say that. It was so hard to see him leave. I told my mother the day he left that I knew I’d never see him again. She feared the same and claimed women’s intuition was sometimes a curse and hoped we were both wrong. We weren’t.”

I thought I was cried out, but silent tears wouldn’t be stifled.

“Six weeks after Robert left, he was on a transport to France. That’s when I learned I was with child. I sent a letter telling him of the joyful news, but I don’t know if he ever received it. February 7^th, 1918, we received the telegram we dreaded.”

I sensed Bill near me just before he took my hand. He moved to the sofa so he could reach me to provide comfort. I gathered myself with the strength I felt from him before I continued.

“That began a series of events that made me think of Job in the Bible. I didn’t know if God was testing me, but I was still comforted by His presence.”

“I’m so sorry, Bal. You don’t need to say more if you don’t want to.”

“Strangely, I feel that I need to, if it’s all right with you.”

“I’m here. Take your time.”

“March 13^th of the same year, we were notified that my father died in an accident while he was at work. He was on construction crews that built many of the tall buildings in New York City, and a gust of wind toppled him from the framework of one of the top floors of the Bush Tower Building. He was a good man and a wonderful dad. Just that quickly, the two most important men in my life were gone.”

Bill squeezed my hand as I collected my thoughts and self-control. He stayed silent and patient, and I momentarily marveled at his demeanor and apparent wisdom.

“On June 17^th, my precious Pearl was born. She was the only good news that year.”

“She was your treasure in the midst of so much sorrow.”

“I wish that was all the sorrow, but that horrible year continued. Our family was hit hard by the Spanish influenza. My youngest brother, Todd, died the same day Pearl was born. My other brother followed three weeks later. Robert’s mother was his only living relative when he died. She succumbed to the epidemic in August.”

“Dear, Lord!” Bill exclaimed. “So within a few short months, your extended family went from seven to three people with the exception of Pearl.”

The way he summarized that terrible time in my life brought my emotions back to the surface.

“Yes,” I sobbed. “All the men in our family were gone. Now it was only my mother, Pearl, and me. I was so scared that Pearl would be taken from influenza too, but God spared our family any more losses that year.”

The flood of memories threatened to consume me, and I paused to gain composure.

“After that, my mother and I rented a smaller home in Scranton but we knew our meager savings and income would not hold out. I worked days at a bakery while my mother watched Pearl, then she worked cleaning offices until the early morning hours.”

“When did you sleep?”

“Hardly ever, it seemed. If Pearl had any problems, one of us didn’t sleep at all. Then early this year, I learned the bakery was going to close and I would be out of work. Mother remembered the hunting cabin my grandfather owned and looked for the deed so we could locate it. We made plans and tried to understand how to live off the land. We bought a large supply of dried beans to be sure we had something to eat, and also seeds and some gardening tools hoping we could grow and preserve enough to survive. We came to the cabin in April with what we could afford to move with the help of the bakery delivery truck. We planted what we could but had very little yield. Potatoes and carrots were most plentiful, and we preserved tomatoes. But almost everything else failed to fill our cupboard with adequate supplies.”

“You mentioned your mother. Where is she?”

I lost control of my emotions momentarily and Bill steadied me. He pulled me next to him on the sofa and held me until I was calm again and could continue.

“When we were harvesting potatoes, I found her on the ground.”

I started to softly sob and Bill calmed me by holding me tighter.

“I rolled her on her back, she whispered, ‘I love you,’ then died in my arms.”

As I told Bill of the events of our past, I felt like I was reliving my experiences and I was beginning to get overwhelmed with emotion. Even so, I felt driven to finish. I owed it to Bill, but I think I owed it to myself as well.

“I didn’t know what to do or who to go to, so I dug a deep grave near the cabin and laid her to rest.”

“Oh, my dear. So you’re completely on your own with Pearl?”

“Yes. And I knew that even without having my mother to feed, we couldn’t get through the winter with what we had. Even the dried beans were nearly gone. I had my father’s rifle for hunting, but I quickly ran out of ammunition and couldn’t afford more even if I knew where to obtain it. Plus, I’m a terrible hunter. I was occasionally successful fishing the pond, but when it froze over I didn’t catch much within the time I could withstand the cold.”

“Why didn’t you seek help from neighbors?”

“I never saw anyone else. I didn’t know your house was here, and it seems most cabins nearby were just for hunting or summer retreats. In the cold, I was limited as to how far I could walk with Pearl.”

The memories of the hopelessness that haunted me welled up within me until Bill held me tighter.

“When you found me, I was sure 1922 would finish what 1918 did to my family.”

I was losing control as I tried to convey my most desperate thoughts. The words came out interrupted by blubbering I couldn’t contain.

“I’m ... ashamed ... to confess ... what I considered ... to spare Pearl any more pain!”

Bill was wise. He remained silent and just held me as emotion controlled me. At some point, he lifted me onto his lap and held me just as I saw him holding Pearl earlier. I cried on his shoulder as he gently kissed my forehead. At that moment he seemed more like a father to me than a friend.

Once I calmed down, he gently closed the evening discussion with great care and wisdom.

“Bal, rejoice that it’s over. Remember, after Job’s trials, he was doubly blessed by God. It’s been a long day. I want you to think good thoughts of the blessings to come and let the past go.”

Just as he did with Pearl, Bill got up and carried me into the bedroom and put me next to Pearl. He kissed my forehead, and quietly left the room. I slept more soundly than I had in years.

The next several days, Bill focused on helping us settle in. I could tell he wanted to be sure we were secure in our comfort with him. He took great care in assuring us of our privacy and safety. By the third day, he finally let me help him in the kitchen. A week later he allowed me to be the breakfast cook, but he always controlled dinner. I found that cooking was more of a source of enjoyment for him than I would have imagined.

The hot baths with running water at the house became my favorite retreat. I soaked, thought, prayed, and felt rejuvenated after every bath.

Ten days after Pearl and I joined Bill in his home, I felt comfortable enough to ask him about his past. Just by being in his home, I learned that he had been a Methodist pastor with a circuit of four churches. I knew that he had been married, but I hadn’t mustered the courage to inquire about her. After Pearl was put to bed that night, I set out to ask him the difficult questions.

We sat together to the sofa in front of the fire with the remaining contents of a bottle of Beaujolais.

“I can get used to having wine every night. It brings the French woman out in me. How much do you store in the cellar?”

“I can’t possibly drink all that Sam sends me every month. I must have 12 or 13 unopened cases down there. But I must admit that my intake has increased with your welcomed presence in the house. Maybe tomorrow I’ll open some Riesling that he has been after me to try.”

I struggled to find a way to ask Bill some personal questions. He saw the look on my face in the brief silence.

“Bal, is there something on your mind? You seem pensive.”

“You’ve only known me a few weeks. Can you read me that well?”

“I’ve grown to admire your different looks. They tell me so much.”

“What! What do they say?”

“I’m not revealing my secrets,” he laughed.

“What do you see in my face?”

“That’s a different question.” His eyes warmed and a soft smile spread across his lips. “I see a beautiful and warm woman with flowing blonde hair, whose capacity for love is immense. I see it when you talk about Pearl or your late husband and family members. I also see a wonderful humility that shows me you don’t know how amazing you are.”

I know I turned many shades of red as I blushed. “You’re embarrassing me.”

“I apologize. I sometimes speak before I think through what I’m going to say.”

“Are you saying you didn’t mean what you said?” I wasn’t sure what his last statement meant.

“Oh, Bal. I didn’t mean to upset you. What I meant is that I often say exactly what I mean without thinking of the consequences. I didn’t mean to embarrass and I certainly don’t want to flatter you inappropriately. Before I say too much, I just want you to understand that I think you’re an amazing woman. But now, you still haven’t answered my first question.”

“Which question?”

“What’s on your mind?”

“Oh. Yes. Well ... I shared my past the first night we met and, while I think I know some things, I actually know very little about you.”

“What do you think you know?”

He was frowning as if he was building defenses.

“I know that you were a pastor, that you are very intelligent and well-read, and that you either are or were married. I know you are a marvelous cook and a good hunter. You’re strong and handsome. And you are the kindest and most gentle man I’ve ever met.”

“I guess I should blush. You are too kind. So what do you want to know first?”

“The photograph on the mantle—is that of your wife?” His face dropped and I’m sure I saw a tear in his eye.

“Yes. That’s my Catherine. She passed about five years ago, and she was truly the love of my life.”

Without shame, he let a few tears trickle down his cheeks. His pain at the loss ran very deep.

“Bill, did I ask too much of you to share that?”

“No, I want you to know. I still miss her every minute. We were married when I was 20 and she was 18. We were together for 12 glorious years.”

“I miss Robert every day too, but it must be different. We never had the chance to make marriage the normal part of our lives. I miss the lost opportunities even more than the few memories we were able to create.”

“I can see that. Catherine and I were everything to each other and our daily relationship defined us. I still talk to her in bed as if she’s there next to me.”

“I think that’s really sweet. May I ask, how did she pass?” Bill’s face showed so many emotions at once that it scared me. He looked hurt, angry, and sad all at once. “Don’t feel obligated to tell me. I can see it cuts you deeply.”

He softened a little as he looked away, appearing to try and control the deep emotions coming to the surface.

“Bal, I’ll tell you someday. I can’t today.”

“I’m sorry, Bill. I’ve touched a nerve I didn’t know would hurt you so much. Please, forgive me.”

“Of course, but I need to ask your patience. I never had to recount the events of those days, and it will take me some time to have the courage to face them with someone else. But, for now, what else do you want to know?”

“I hope my questions aren’t too close to the pain you’ve experienced. If they are, just say the word ‘later’ and I will understand.”

“All right. I can do that. So what next would you like to know?”

“There’s a lot about you that doesn’t make sense. A man as learned as you and who has pastored congregations is living remotely and alone. You seem to be someone who should be near people.”