Today's Reading
"Uncle Harvey asked me to remind you that we must be in the carriage at three o'clock, or he'll leave without us."
"I know, I know." Wallace turned away, calling over his shoulder, "If I'm not there, don't worry. I'll find a way home." He skulked off in the direction of his friends.
Ida watched him go, then spun around to see her best friend, Mattie, heading her way. The two were as different as salt and pepper—Ida blond, blue-eyed, petite, and Mattie with raven locks, chocolate eyes, and long legs.
"I've been looking for you." Mattie hugged her. She nodded toward Wallace. "He doesn't look happy. Something wrong?"
Ida sighed. "I think it must be hard to be Wallace."
"Why?"
As the two sat on the sunny hillside, Ida fiddled with a blade of grass. "He's ordered around as though he were still an adolescent. His life has been planned for him since his birth. I don't think any options have ever been discussed."
"In my opinion, he still acts like an adolescent. If he wants to be treated like an adult, he should try acting like one. Why is joining his father at the sawmill distasteful to him? My brothers would jump at an opportunity like that faster than a fish after a water skipper."
"I don't know. Ida picked at the lace on her sleeve. He's not ambitious, and he hasn't enough to do to keep out of trouble. I think he might be happier if he could make his own choices, if he had something to look forward to."
"In some ways, our lives—yours and mine—are all planned too. Mattie's gaze followed a puffy cloud drifting across the blue sky. ìI mean, aren't we supposed to get married, keep house, and have babies?"
"Don't you want to?"
"Yes, I do." Mattie took her friend's hand. "Just not yet."
Ida agreed. Sort of. She wanted marriage and children, but she yearned for more. Mattie, do you ever pray for a husband?"
"Yes, all the time. I mean, how else am I going to snag a rich one?"
"Oh, I don't care if he's rich or not."
"That's easy for you to say. You've never been poor."
"Mattie, as beautiful as you are, you'll have your pick of men, rich or otherwise."
"I wish I had your confidence." Mattie leaned back on her elbows.
"As much as I'd like a husband someday, said Ida, I pray for something dearer to me than that."
"What?" Mattie spoke as if nothing could be more important than a husband.
"I want to serve God. I mean, making cakes for a charity sale or quilts for the missionary barrels is fine and good, but I want to talk about Jesus, share His love." Ida's eyes sought Mattie's. She wanted someone to understand. When she had shared her desire with Aunt Ruth, the good woman bristled as if Ida had insulted her. How would missionaries survive without those barrels?
God had opened the eyes of her heart, and everywhere Ida looked she saw hurting people. Even Mrs. Prescott. If one dug deeply enough, Ida believed a wound of some sort would be discovered. And she ached to help. Rich, poor, in between, all seemed burdened. Her soul sensed the hurts and urged her to respond.
She tried to explain. "Sometimes I think we are all of us in these little tippy boats, paddling with all our might upstream. We don't even know why we're paddling or where we're going. We wear ourselves out without knowing why."
"That's a happy thought." Mattie threw a fistful of grass at Ida.
I mean, I want to make a difference to the paddlers. Maybe if they knew Jesus, they'd know if they're supposed to keep paddling or climb out of the boat. Maybe there wouldn't be so much unspoken desperation.
Mattie stood. Everybody knows Jesus. At least everyone in Eureka. She reached out her hand to help Ida rise. Look, there's that fellow you were talking to.
Hand in hand, the two walked down the hill.
"So who is he?" Mattie wiggled her eyebrows in a sort of caterpillar dance. "Will you introduce me?"
This excerpt ends on page 17 of the paperback edition.
Monday we begin the book What Not to Do on Vacation by Rachel Magee.
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