It was hard to believe that this strong-minded man was the same person as the shaky-handed, head-hanging boy I knew last year.
"Ira," I asked, "what does Brother Tommy say?"
"He’s the one who encouraged me. He says the church has always been for sinners and nothing but sinners. He says some of the lost sheep have come to the Shepherd and some are still running away, but that Drema and I have nothing to hide."
"Ira, I know that we Christians are all supposed to believe that, but I am really scared that some people won’t like it at all."
"But, Granny, when were we ever supposed to pet people in their weaknesses? Why shouldn’t this wedding help people to take a stronger stand for the truth? Maybe some other black sheep would come to the Shepherd if they saw He really did wash and accept them."
I turned to Drema and shook my head. "Now, you are in for it, honey. You’ve fallen in love with a real man. His hand really is on top. You won’t be able to whine and nag and boss this one. You’re not going to be able to get your own way all the time."
She was able to speak up. "But, Dicey, my mother says that it is indecent to wear white dresses at your wedding unless you are a virgin."
"Oh, you sweet pretty thing, here’s the catch: your Mom has no say-so in it. Mom and Dad are in the back, husband is in the front. Jesus says LEAVE and CLEAVE. Leave your parents and cleave to your mate. That’s called ‘breaking the apron strings’ and, my, does it ever hurt, but now’s your chance to get started on a good marriage. Your Mom and Dad will catch on that somebody else is going to look after you now."
"And as for you, Ira," I continued to preach, "you will be wise to listen to other opinions, even her Mom’s, then make the decision that you believe will please the Lord. If you chicken out and let somebody else take over your job as head of the home, you will answer for it. If your home is a mess—if the children are mean or the garbage is piled up, the Lord will be pointing His finger at you."
"So there you have it. It’s your job to lead, Ira, to please the Lord. It’s your job to follow him, Drema, to please the Lord. And it’s my job to stay out of your business, to please the Lord," I joked.
"Say, Drema, have you seen the house lately?" I asked.
"No, ma’am."
"You’ll be amazed. Ira’s got it snug and ready. He’s put the very best quality of flooring and windows and roofing into it. All I can see that it needs now is a woman’s touch."
"I’ll enjoy that."
"Let me know if I can help you any, honey."
They went off down the path, arm in arm. Ira looked as if he stood a little taller and straighter. Drema looked a bit slumped. But I knew that I had steered them in the right way. Hadn’t Tim and I spent years trying to get our marriage lined up in the Bible way?
So now you know why, three weeks later, there was a sweet wedding held in our little church.
Tommy had on his red-checked pants and his red jacket outfit which just fit his jolly mood. He was slapping everyone on the back and squeezing the older couples up together ‘til they hugged each other and blushed. He was patting some kids on the head and some on the tails, according to their behavior, and welcoming the strangers, the relatives and friends of the bride and groom.
Ira had had to suffer for his own convictions, for his Dad wasn’t about to come in that church again. Ira’s mother was so torn between her loyalty to her husband, even in his stubbornness, and her son. Finally, Ira had gone to his mother, put his arm around her shoulder, and suggested, "How about if you and Dad go up to my house during the service and see that everything is ready for our little party."
She was relieved and happy to help the young couple in that way.
On his side of the family, only Debbie came. And there she sat beside John, looking sort of happy and wistful. Maybe she was thinking wedding thoughts herself.
John had made several trips with his car, bringing all the young people he could round up. He always did see a chance for missionary work. Some of the girls he brought weren’t the churchgoing type, you could tell. Drema’s parents and her grandmother and cousins and little brothers and in-laws and out-laws were all there. Her Dad seemed very tame.
Even my neighbors, the Tates, came. Never knew of their being in church before.
Tommy had done a good job of talking to the church members. They all seemed to be able to lay down their judgments and criticisms to come and rejoice with the young couple. Except for one family.
It was a happy service, more like a Saturday night worship than a regular wedding. Three quartets sang and Tommy had a few words to say which turned into a full-sized message for those who were lost in sin. (Ira and Drema were pleased about this because several of those visitors came back to church after that and decided to give themselves to Jesus.) As Tommy gave a prayer of blessing over the couple, he put his hands on their heads and a beautiful stream of foreign words began to come out. They were slow and distinct and sounded like an important pronouncement. As often, the foreign words stopped and beautiful old-fashioned English began to take over. Much of it was from the Bible: "Ye have not chosen Me, but I have chosen you and ordained you that ye should bring forth fruit, and that your fruit should remain: that whatsoever ye shall ask of the Father in My name, He may give it to you. These things I command you, that you love one another. I have loved you with an everlasting love." How I wish I could remember all of it!
As the Amen sounded out in the congregation, Ira turned and put his arms around Drema and her very large, shapeless, long white dress and gave her an unabashed tender kiss.
It doesn’t sound very churchy, but everyone began to clap and cheer as they started down the aisle and out the door together.
Many cars followed them up past my house. They were parked every which-a-way. The church singers came and kept up lively Gospel music in one corner while Ira’s Mom and I made ham sandwiches and opened potato chips in the other. Somebody kept making up ice cream cones and pouring pop.
Everyone wanted to see how the house had turned out. There were pretty checked curtains in the kitchen windows and heavy warm ones in the living room in orange and blue plaid. The woodpile was neatly stacked beside the fireplace and a large shaggy orange rug centered the floor. The furniture was nice, but scarce.
The big wood fire made the older people want to talk about the way things used to be. They really enjoyed themselves.
The little kids kept trying to climb the stairs. Their mothers stood guard at the bottom and grabbed each one as he started up.
The crowd began to break up about eleven. I went on home and saw the cars leaving one by one. When I saw John go out for the third time with his last load, I knew the festivities were over.
Ira’s lights were still on when I dozed off to sleep. All that spilled ice cream and all those empty pop bottles...!
Chapter 19
We should have been having an April shower, but it was more like a cloudburst the night that Ira drove Drema out to the hospital.
He had been keeping his Mustang in perfect condition for weeks, just for this occasion. He had put in new points and plugs and replaced two slick tires. He had relined his brakes and done some body work. He had bought an extra-good battery and the starter was fine. But wouldn’t you know it...the muffler got knocked off coming up our rocky road that evening as he was coming in from work. (It happened quite often on that sort of road.)
He meant to fix it right after supper, but when he got in the house he found there was no supper. Drema was all humped up with a backache, telling him over and over that she would be all right soon. He found a big gallon jar and filled it with hot water. She settled down in a chair with the warmth of it to her back and laughed while she watched him clean up and cook supper.
It hurt his feelings at first, but when he looked right in her eyes, he realized that she was laughing to keep from crying.
He got the food on the table, but she
just couldn’t eat.
"Here, honey, this isn’t going to do at all. Now you get in the bed and rest yourself. I’ll put on some pretty music. What were you trying to do today, wax the floors?"
"Nope, but you are coming close. Granny and I were out picking wild greens. I got to feeling worse and worse. She took my greens home to wash them for me."
"Oh, no wonder your back hurts, bending over like that. If you can get a good night’s sleep, you’ll be fine in the morning." He turned the lights down and parked himself in a chair by her bed.
About 10:30, she was sound asleep but she moaned from time to time. He watched the clock. She turned over or groaned every ten minutes.
At midnight, she began waking up each time—rubbing her back, smiling a weak smile at Ira, and falling back to sleep.
At 1:30, he put a tarpaulin over himself and went out to the car. He had forgotten the muffler, but nobody else could forget it. He roared up to the door, as close as he could get the car, and went inside to get her and cover her with the tarpaulin and bring her out to the car.
She could be normal and jolly for about four minutes, then the misery would come again for a minute. The pangs were getting closer and stronger.
I awoke as soon as I heard all the racket of the car. Every other family awoke too as the couple hurried out of the hollow. (I thought she acted mighty strange when we were picking greens.)
It was impossible to sleep, so I sat up and prayed for her. It would take a while for her with the first one. Her body was young and strong; she would be fine.
I was going to have a lot of fun with that new baby next door. Maybe they would ask me to babysit some-time. That would make me almost a Granny.
"Granny!"
Why that Ira must have had an idea of this long ago! Maybe he had been like a prophet when he first called me that name.
It was a little after noon when he came, more slowly, back up the creek. He stopped by the house and teased me. "I figure if I tell you first, Granny, that the news will get out in a hurry. Drema had a beautiful, fat, baby girl about two hours ago. They are both doing fine. She’s going to name the baby ‘April,’ and I’m going home to get some sleep."
Yes, sir, he had put the news in the right place. I started in at the Tates and went clear to the mouth of the holler, telling each and every family. Harley said he couldn’t wait to get hold of that blankety-blank little girl and teach her a few naughty tricks. The Foster sisters had crocheted little shoes and a yarn blanket in pink and blue. Sister Sara and the girls were polite. They were glad it was over. Brother Price reached in his pocket to see if he had a little cash gift for the child. And so on....
The next day, Ira gave me permission to clean up the house for their return. It was fun. I peeked in the empty bassinet over and over, eager to see a little round face in there soon.
"Will the child love me?" I wondered. "I’ll show her my baby rabbits. Maybe she will like to put her tiny feet in the creek and watch the birds."
I swept the floors and washed the dishes in the sink and I put a load of clothes in a bag to take home and wash. It seemed like a good idea to go outside and pick some wild honeysuckle with their pink blossoms and put them around in the house. Then I went home and made a cake to give them when they returned home with the baby.
On the third day, Ira brought them home. Drema waved as they went by. Those seemed the longest hours of my life, wondering when they would invite me over.
Finally, I heard a whistle. I stepped out on the porch.
"Can you come over?" Ira called.
Could I! I gathered up the little gifts that had been put in my care and the cake and trotted over.
Drema was propped up in the bed with the sleeping baby at her side. It had fat squirrel cheeks and lots of dark hair like Drema’s. Its skin was still quite red and wrinkled, but it was the prettiest baby I had seen in a long, long time.
"Drema, honey, did you get along all right?"
"Oh, yes, Granny. Ira was right beside me and I knew the Heavenly Father was taking care of me. I wasn’t scared one bit."
"That’s just right, sweetie. If you’re scared, it really isn’t much help. There isn’t all that much to worry about usually. Your body knows exactly what to do anyway."
The baby’s mouth began to pucker and its cheeks squinched up until it was crying loudly without even opening its eyes.
I was surprised when Drema gathered it up and put it to her breast. When she saw me staring, she explained, "It just seems right somehow."
And so it did.
Springtime came gloriously as April turned into May. The little family thrived. The baby wanted to eat every few minutes it seemed, and the housework got further and further behind, but Drema had sense enough to hope that things would get back in order someday, and Ira was contented.
Mother and daughter got a good report at their six-week checkup. The baby was fatter and the mother was thinner!
Ira took them out to lunch and then they went shopping.
When they stopped by my house, Drema motioned me into the kitchen and let me peep at the gift Ira had bought for her. It was supposed to be a nightgown and robe—white with a few tiny red rosebuds and a green velvet sash—but it looked more like tissue paper to me. The girl would surely freeze to death if she walked around the house in those.
Ira called to me and hesitantly asked a special favor.
"Sister Granny," he called jokingly, "wonder if you would be willing to watch the baby a couple of hours. Drema has been confined long enough. I’d like to show her how the wildflowers are coming along up in the mountain. I’ve been eager to take her for a spring hike."
"Do you mean to tell me that you trust me with that baby doll? You two go right on. If I decide to steal her, I’ll probably bring her back when she gets hungry."
I was tickled pink. How much I had been wanting to get my hands on that little person! First thing I did was take her out back and show her my Easter bunnies. I won’t say she really noticed them much, but it was a wonderful pleasure for me.
Ira and Drema had stopped by their house to put away their packages. I saw them leave with a big quilt and two bottles of RC Cola.
I showed the baby our graveyard. I stood there by the blue spruce that was the marker for Tim’s grave and shed a few tears as I remembered the many times that Tim and I had gone up in the mountains with a quilt ‘to see the wildflowers.’
"And so, April, you try to remember this...we have sweet pleasures here, with tears, but our best time is still to come."
She agreed with everything I said.
Chapter 20
Five years have gone by since I started telling this story to you. If you’ll figure it out, I don’t have so much time to sit around and gab like I did. I’ve got too much to tend to. But in case I’ve got you curious, I’ll tell you how things have turned out. Then I have to go back up to Debbie’s to help her with her washing.
She’s finally going to have a baby. She and John were married the same year as Drema and Ira. Their log house had been raised, but they spent their honeymoon putting in chinking and floors. It looks good now and they have a big garden.
For a long time, we didn’t know if they were really on the Lord’s side or not. They were sort of in and out, up and down. John would take his payday and buy new cars—a Camaro, then a Corvette—but soon they would be wrecked. Debbie whined a lot and spent hours in the beauty parlor and at the bowling alley.
It was when they lost a baby last year that Brother Price finally helped them to realize that they needed the Holy Ghost. Right there in their living room, they asked to receive the power that they had been lacking so much. The Lord was happy to fill them up. Both of them have been steady churchgoers and growing in the Lord ever since.
John still works in the mines and is bringing lots of new people to church again. He’s helping one of his I buddies to build a log house a
nd he has already helped one to finish his house last year.
Ira’s father still won’t come to our church, but he is faithful to the church in town and he is real good to his miners. He offers land to any young man who wants to build a log house on it. He gives them the logs and even loans a bulldozer if it is needed.
Harley Edwards is in hog heaven because he has finally gotten his two-man sawmill going up past here. It buzzes all day on Saturdays. Harley is cutting the rough lumber for sub-flooring and for the rafters, etc. His mule has a few more gray hairs and is in great demand for plowing and pulling logs. Harley loves to help the young people and joke with them.
Sister Sara and Buford have really prospered since the drink money has started going into something more useful. Their house is all fixed up and they have a decent car and pretty clothes. It is one of my worst heartaches to go by their house. They might wave at me or they might not. They have never been to our church since Ira’s wedding. They didn’t show up at all for several weeks after the wedding and then we caught on that they were going to services at the town church.
My, oh, My! how we miss them! Was it my fault? Should I have argued more about that wedding? Well, I guess I shouldn’t worry too much as long as they still love the Lord and are faithful at another church.
Pastor Tommy is still his bouncy self. He’s grown deeper and more loving than ever. A lot of different lives and homes have been touched by his work, but there is never a big crowd at church. He has a new helper now that he can call on. If he has to be out of town, he announces that Brother Ira Harless will be in charge. This is a great honor for such a young man, but Ira has proved himself to be as steady as a rock.
Drema has had two more babies—beautiful blonde boys—and she is the ideal wife. Ira does everything he can think of to provide for her and show her special attention and love. He’s put in a nice bathroom and laundry and takes her out to eat every week.
She shows her love by a quiet and cheerful spirit. She is patient with the children and has taught little April to stand on a box beside her at the sink. They have woman-to-woman talks while they do the dishes.