Spiritwind

By Joyce Rone

Abby is the sixteen-year-old daughter of a pastor who ministers at a church in St. Louis. Although she believes in her father's message of salvation, she does not agree that putting God's will first should be a priority. She is not interested in making a total commitment like her parents. Rather her heart's desires is to obtain wealth, even with her meager background, and to possess expensive material things and a high place in society. It would not matter what cost she might have to pay to get what she wanted. When told her papa was giving up his church to begin a home mission work in Kansas and that she would have to go with them, she thought her world had come to an end. Her hopes of a wealthy lifestyle seemed to be disappearing before her eyes, but to her surprise, she finds that Kansas has more to offer than she had thought. After some time had passed since moving to Kansas, Abby gradually begins to change without even realizing it herself until the day she comes to understand that putting God first and seeking His will for her life is the only thing that brings joy, peace, and satisfaction. Her life takes a totally different direction than the one she had chosen for herself. Because of the faithfulness of Abby's parents to stay in God's will, not only Abby, but many others, come to see the great things God can do if we put Him first.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Apr 26, 2018
• ISBN: 9781641406628

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Spiritwind

Joyce Rone

ISBN 978-1-64140-661-1 (paperback)

ISBN 978-1-64140-662-8 (digital)

Copyright © 2018 by Joyce Rone

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Those who wait upon the Lord . . . shall mount up with wings as eagles.

—Isaiah 40:31

Chapter 1

It was a most perfectly delightful day, I thought to myself, as I nodded to two ladies I met on the sidewalk. It was early afternoon. The sun felt warm against my back, and the temperatures assured the promise of spring. The first of April was usually a beautiful month in our neighborhood. Thousands of early spring flowers dotted the scenery everywhere you looked. The sounds of gardening were heard, and the fresh smell of newly turned dirt was always a good sign that spring had arrived or at least was about to arrive. I had seen a foot of snow make a surprise visit in April in years past, but I had confidence as I strode quickly toward my destination that this year spring had come and winter had been left far behind.

My father had been the pastor of the same church in a quiet neighborhood in a town called St. Louis since as long as I could remember. We had lived a moderate life. My parents were very frugal and spent very little other than on the necessities of life. We raised a garden every year, and Papa had built a chicken coop so we would have plenty of fresh eggs and chicken and dumplings at least once a month. I hated chickens with a passion. They were nasty, and it was about all I could do to stick my hand in their nest to gather the eggs. But we were never lacking in food and always had plenty to eat and to share with others. Mother made sure we were dressed appropriately. She was an excellent seamstress and consequently I’d never had a store-bought dress. Our clothes were relatively plain although she did allow me to have bright colors in the dresses she made me. While my parents were fairly strict concerning the things we could or could not do, they had also taught me the importance of doing things for myself and thinking on my own.

Mother had been a former school teacher and believed firmly in a good education. I not only had to learn to cook, clean, and sew, but she also made sure I had learned to read, write, learn history and math as well as the fine arts, and, of course, there was Bible study and prayer time.

Papa had taken a three-month leave of absence from his church to go on a missionary trip. He was scheduled to come home today, and that was the reason I was being sent to the store.

As a young lady of sixteen, almost seventeen, I was very impressed with myself and the maturity of my years. The fact that my mother now thought I was responsible enough to walk to the General Mercantile Store and purchase the things she needed made me feel a little more supercilious than I knew I should have been.

While I understood my parent’s life of giving and serving, I had already decided this was not going to be the life I chose for myself. I believed you should help people, and I also believed you should love the Lord and do according to the Bible, but I did not believe that I had to give up everything and live meagerly in order to do that. I had already begun to think about my future and what I wanted to obtain in life. Someday I would be wealthy and have many of the material things I so desired. Of course, I would still be willing to share my good fortune with others in need, but, more importantly, I would have nice things, very expensive things for myself.

On occasion, I had been permitted to go with Papa to the downtown area when he went on business. The ten years following what they called the War Between the States found many new people moving into the Mississippi River area and a number of them brought their wealth with them. Of course, my life had been pretty sheltered, and I really didn’t know much about the war or the goings on of the town or the people except what little I would overhear when adults were talking. When Papa allowed me to go with him, I paid very close attention during such conversations. I was very curious and had a keen desire to learn all I could. I had heard lots of talk in the last few months about the management of the town government. It seemed the wealthier men in town had some new ideas about managing the growing community than those who had been there for some time.

Just over the last year, things had begun to change so quickly that every time I went with Papa to town, I hardly recognized some of the places and surrounding areas because they looked so different. Along the river, several new warehouses and what appeared to be some type of factory had been built. People were moving around like workers in a beehive. I was even more fascinated with the big new beautiful homes that had begun to spring up—houses that were magnificent in their architecture and were grandeur in their appearance. But what I noticed even more were the men and women driving around in fancy carriages. The ladies were dressed in elegant attire with matching hats, gloves, and bags. I was green with envy from the first time I set eyes on these couples. As I began to observe how other people lived, my future goals began to grow even more. I was determined that one day I would live this lifestyle and obtain this stature in life. I could only imagine the beautiful homes they lived in, and their social life was more than I could comprehend, but this is what I wanted in life more than anything else. I wanted to have wealth and a place in society, and someday that would be mine. In spite of my meager background, I was confident I could use my femininity and intelligence to get what I wanted.

Not only did my plan include marrying a rich man, but I also wanted to own my own business. I was persuaded that a lady’s elite dress shop would be very successful especially with all the seemingly wealthy people now moving to St. Louis. Yes, I knew that in this day and time, it was not fashionable for women to be in business, but that would not deter my ambition. I was just headstrong enough that I knew someday I would achieve my goals.

I already had a partner who shared in my ideas and who I felt had the means and place in society to help me reach these goals. Papa had permitted me to visit with Aunt Elizabeth about once a month. Aunt Elizabeth was Papa’s only sister, and I loved her dearly. Unlike my mother, she was fun, and she enjoyed life to its fullest extent. But more importantly, she was always open to new ideas. She seemed to have a very keen mind and savored every opportunity for a new adventure. Aunt Elizabeth had married a well-to-do gentleman. He owned a couple of businesses in town. I wasn’t sure exactly what he did, but obviously he did well. They lived in a very nice home, Aunt Elizabeth was always dressed well, and they had a woman who did all their cooking and cleaning.

On my visits to her home, we had talked about my dreams a number of times. Aunt Elizabeth assured me she would be willing to help me get started, and she had some good ideas of her own. With her help and influence, I knew I could be successful. She had even talked about having a coming out party for me when I turned eighteen to help introduce me to the right people, as she said, including some eligible bachelors.

Part of our plan had been that I would attend the girl’s prep school when I turned sixteen, but my parents refused to listen. Not only was it a question of money, but they also felt I had a good-enough education already and attending the prep school might put me in situations I could not handle—whatever that meant. I was sure I could handle any situation that might come my way. I could not confide to my parents, but it was not the education I was interested in as much as it was the people I would meet and contacts I could make that would help me reach the goals I had set for myself.

Aunt Elizabeth had tried to intervene and persuade Papa to allow me to attend, but to no avail. He and Mother had already discussed the subject, and the answer was no.

My mother had insisted I needed to get my head out of the clouds and be happy with what God had given me in life. She thought I needed to concentrate on finding the right husband and then concentrate on being a good wife and mother. She had even named several young men from our church she thought would be a good candidate as a husband for me. I had heard that message preached to me every day for months and now knew it by heart. But I was not interested in these young men from our church. Several of them had already tried to gain my attention. But I would have what I wanted or I would have nothing at all.

As much as I loved my parents and respected their way of life, they simply did not understand that if you wanted certain things in life, you just had to reach out and take what you could.

I had not seen Aunt Elizabeth since the day she had come to the house to speak to Papa about the girl’s preparatory school. For as long as I could remember, there had always been tension between Aunt Elizabeth and my mother. I was never really sure why my mother harbored ill feelings toward Papa’s sister. They each maintained civility toward one another, but that was about all. The Christmas holidays was about the only time we all ever came together to share a meal. To make things easier for the family, Aunt Elizabeth never came to the house very often. I knew from what Aunt Elizabeth had told me that Papa went to visit with her every week. Papa loved his sister very much, and in many ways, they were a lot alike. She might have persuaded him over to the idea of the girl’s school, but I knew he would not do anything that would upset my mother, unless there was no other way. So, I resigned myself that the girl’s school was out.

Oh well, I am not going to let anything spoil my day, I whispered to myself. I had my goals and dreams, and I would find a way to get what I wanted someday no matter what I had to do. Right now, I wanted to get to the Mercantile Store as soon as I could so I would have a little time to look around. The owner had opened a small section of his store to add a few fine dresses and matching hats, and I couldn’t wait to see what new items he might have. Not many in our section of town could afford the dresses he had, but I guess he sold enough to keep a small stock. I never got the chance to look around much when I went with Mother to the store. Her idea of shopping was to get what was on her list and be on her way as quickly as possible. Window-shopping was a waste of one’s time according to her. This was going to be a day I would have all to myself.

Good morning, Mr. Wilson, I said as I entered the store.

Good Morning, Miss Abagail. You seem to be a might chipper today. The reverend is due in today, isn’t he?

Yes, I am happy today, I chirped back. It’s a beautiful day outside. Spring is in the air. Can’t you feel it? And yes, Papa will be in this afternoon.

Do you have a list of things I can get for you, he asked as he watched me eyeing the clothes section of the store.

Mother had told me not to dally around, but I was sure I could get by with an extra thirty minutes if I managed it just right.

Yes, I do, Mr. Wilson, if you could get them together, that would be wonderful.

You just take your time, Miss Abagail. I’ll have your items ready when you are.

What a peach Mr. Wilson is, I thought to myself as I moved toward the dresses.

Mr. Wilson did have several new things I had not seen, but one dress was to die for. I looked over every inch of the dress and held it up against my body as I looked in the mirror. It was just perfect. It couldn’t have been more perfect if I had designed it myself. I hung the dress back in its place and sneaked a peak at the price tag.

Not as much as I expected, I thought to myself. But whatever the price, it was certainly more than I could afford right now, and I knew it was out of the question to even mention it to Mother.

I looked around at some other items and then proceeded to the front of the store. I loved shopping, but I knew I had to get back home or I would have more lecture about the benefits of never being late than I wanted to hear today.

Mother was more than a little surprised as I came bouncing in the door with my packages.

Well, you’re certainly in a good mood today and back in record time, she said half smiling.

You told me to hurry, didn’t you? I retorted. Besides, it’s a wonderful spring day. It puts an extra step in your walk.

Well, I’m glad you are back. We still have several things to do before your father gets here. I had wanted to meet him at the train station, but he insisted that we stay here and wait for him. I’m preparing a special dinner, so get your apron on so you can help. With Mother, it was never a question of whether you wanted to help, it was always in the form of a command.

I was anxious to see Papa as well. Mother was always very serious, but Papa on the other hand was lighthearted and always had an amusing story to tell. I had missed his laughter and good-natured teasing over the last three months.

I noticed Mother kept looking at the clock to see the time. I hadn’t stopped to consider about how much she had missed Papa, but I could now begin to sense the eagerness and anticipation she felt but had kept hidden inside.

The clock struck five. Papa should be coming through the door any minute. His train was scheduled to arrive at four thirty.

Nathan, who was my only younger brother by four years, had been sitting outside on the porch, and his was the first announcement that let us know Papa was home. While I loved Nathan, he was mother’s pick between the two of us. She was as strict with him as she was me, but she did dote on him occasionally. Nathan was the perfect child and always did as he was told where I could not necessarily say that about myself.

There were the usual hugs and kisses as Papa took time to greet each of us individually. Everyone was talking at once. Papa sat his traveling bag on the floor of the sitting room. He was smiling his big usual smile.

Now, if you will all sit down, he said while opening his bag. I brought each of you a special gift. he said, speaking slowly. He was being very deliberate in his motions. He was enjoying dragging out the suspense while we all waited eagerly for his surprise.

It was like having Christmas all over again. He handed each of us a package wrapped in brown paper. I was really excited. This was the first time I could remember Papa ever bringing home a gift for no reason. As I opened my package, my heart sank just a little. It was a small doll, an Indian doll. What on earth was he thinking? I was almost a grown woman, and