The Calling of Emily Evans (6 page)

Her social life dwindled down to almost none, and she soon became known as “Nose-In-A-Book Emily.” She seldom had time to indulge in a leisurely stroll uptown or a game of table tennis in the recreation room. But Emily didn’t mind. She knew she needed to cram as much Bible learning into the short year as she possibly could.

She’d already had two interviews with the district superintendent, and on both occasions he had assured her that he would see she got a position as soon as she qualified.

A reading course had to be fulfilled, and Emily laboriously tried to fit it in along with her studies. It was difficult for her to read and report on all the required books, but if she didn’t she would be delayed in getting a church posting. Her effort to keep pace left Emily hurried and exhausted.

Emily daily thanked God for strength, feeling that He truly was watching over her, certain He was as anxious for her to make it through the grueling school year as she was. Then two and a half weeks before the end of the term, she felt the familiar ache in her bones, the pinching tightness to her throat.

For a few hours she tried to deny that she had the flu, but her throbbing head and the flush of her face drew others’ attention to her dilemma.

“Are you sick, dear?” Miss Herrington asked, touching a cold hand to Emily’s forehead, and she had to nod in truthfulness.

“I think you should be in bed,” responded the practical preceptress.“I can’t,” moaned Emily.“I have a paper due tomorrow.”

“I’m afraid the paper will have to wait,” the preceptress continued.

“Who is the teacher? I’ll speak to him.”

Emily told her and reluctantly headed for her room. By now the stairs were moving strangely. Emily clung to the bannister, scarcely knowing where to place her foot for the next step.

Miss Herrington came with some medication just as Emily pulled the covers up over her flannel nightgown and settled her head on the softly floating pillow.

Emily found it difficult to swallow as she tried to wash the pills down with a glass of orange juice.

“I will have Ruth double up with Judith tonight,” the lady said.“That way you will not be disturbed and Ruth will have less chance of catching the bug.”

Emily nodded.

“Do you feel sick to your stomach?” the preceptress asked.

Emily shook her head.

“Well, I’ll leave this basin handy just in case,” Miss Herrington went on.“And I will look in on you often.”

Emily mumbled her thanks and willed the pills to work soon.

It was well that Miss Herrington had the foresight to leave the basin. Emily was soon in need of it—over and over again.
The medication won’t have any chance to work,
Emily moaned. Miss Herrington was kept busy rinsing the basin and bathing Emily’s flushed face.

For four days the chills and fever raged. Emily could feel the strength being sucked from her slight body. When she could think nearly coherently, she felt angry and disappointed that the day of graduation was drawing so near and she would not be ready. Her assignments were not completed.
If only—if only—
she argued;
if only
the flu could have waited for a few more weeks!

And then Emily had no more strength to fight. She gave in to the ravaging illness and was content to lay her weary, aching head upon the pillow and try to rest.

When she finally felt a little better, it was only a few days until the term would end.
I’m so far behind, I’ll never catch up,
Emily concluded despondently. With reluctant and unsteady steps she made her way to the dean’s office.

Professor Henry was more than considerate. He looked at all Emily’s courses, promised to talk to the teachers, and assured her that they would do everything possible to help her to get the necessary work done the week she had left.

Concessions and shortcuts approved by the faculty along with Emily’s hard work meant that she was somehow able to meet the requirements. But she had to lay aside her required reading. So when she finished the school term, graduating with her class, she was unable to present herself for service as a mission worker along with the others.

It pained Emily deeply when Ruth showed her certificate of approval and told excitedly where she would be serving.

“There is no church there—not yet. I am to start one,” Ruth enthused.“I will have two Sunday services, actually. One in the Mid-land schoolhouse on Sunday mornings and the other at the Dunnagan school in the afternoon.”

It sounded like a big undertaking to Emily. It also sounded wonderful. She gave Ruth a firm hug and wished her well, but tears flowed freely down both faces.

“Where will you live?” Emily asked when she had her emotions under control.

“I’ll be boarding with a neighborhood family. I’m sure it will be crowded. They have a family of six, I’ve been told.”

“Well, there’s a good start to your church right there,” Emily said with a wobbly smile, and Ruth answered with another hug.

But both girls knew that the situation would not be easy. Ruth had been raised as an only child and was not used to the noise and activity of a crowded house. And Ruth liked a lot of quiet time in which to think and pray and plan her sermons.

“I’ll make it—somehow,” Ruth said in response to Emily’s look of concern.

Emily nodded, trying to coax up a confident smile.

“And what will you do?” asked Ruth seriously.“I know how much you wanted to be ready—now.”

Emily nodded slowly, trying to mask the disappointment she was feeling.

“I’m going home,” she said with just a small tremor in her voice.“I’ve been told I must regain my strength—and I still have to complete the reading course … so-o …”

She shrugged and forced a smile.

“When do you think—?” began Ruth.

“Two or three weeks,” Emily cut in.“I hope. Of course Rev. Witt has urged me to take a bit longer. Well, we’ll see.”

A few days later the two girls stood on the Regis station platform waiting for the train that would take Ruth to her first posting.

“Isn’t it exciting about Verna?” Ruth asked enthusiastically.

Emily’s eyes lit up. Verna Woods, another classmate, had also responded to God’s call to serve, even if it meant going alone.

“That will make three of us who are deaconesses,” Emily said.“And we even get to go to conference—and vote.”

Both girls laughed and gave each other an unrestrained hug. To sit on the conference bar was quite an honor.

The distant train wailed against the silence of the spring morning, and Ruth placed her luggage closer to the boarding dock.

“You’ll write?” urged Emily.

“Of course. And you?” responded Ruth.

“Oh, I will. Promise. I’ll have more time than you,” Emily answered.

“Not if you are going to hurry through that book list,” Ruth quipped, but Emily merely shrugged and nodded in reply. The reading course was demanding, and she knew her father would be carefully watching her to see that she didn’t overdo.

There was just enough time before the train wheezed in for Emily to take Ruth’s hand and bow for a quick prayer. Then the two friends parted—Ruth excitedly boarding the train to her first mission work, and Emily reluctantly returning to the dorm to wait for her train home.

More preparation, Lord?
Emily prayed wistfully. But then she resolutely set her mind to the task at hand.

But rather than the two or three weeks Emily had anticipated, it was a full seven weeks before she had her books read, papers of approval, and was ready for her first assignment. By then her health was improved, her walk more steady, her face less strained.

Emily would not be boarding. A small living accommodation was available, she was informed by the superintendent in his letter assigning her to the small community of Wesson Creek. It was a two-day drive away from home by horse and buggy. Her father himself was providing her with a steady team of grays and a secondhand buggy.

Emily was relieved yet anxious about her assignment, for she had never lived alone before. She would be glad for the solitude, which would help her in studying and prayer time. But at times it would be lonely, too, she reminded herself.

She felt thoroughly confused and strangely agitated as she saw her father reluctantly load the buggy for the trip, occasionally giving her long, questioning glances. She was both excited and fearful, exuberant and solemn, eager to be off and doubtful about leaving the home she had known and loved.

But she would not let the doubts and fears show. She kept the smile on her face, the spring in her step, and indicated that she was perfectly at ease with the path her life was taking.

Emily didn’t know what all her father was piling into the already heavily loaded buggy. Gunny sack after gunny sack and box after box were stacked beneath the seat, spilling into the back of the democrat. She remembered that Ruth had set off to her assignment with just her two worn suitcases.
But Ruth is boarding,
she reminded herself.
I’ll need to set up housekeeping on my own.

At last the final trunk and small valise were settled into the packed buggy.“I do hope the weather holds,” her father remarked with an eye on the cloudless sky.“Will Darin borrowed my only canvas tarp, and when I went over there this morning to collect it, his missus said he won’t be home until next week.”

Emily was totally unconcerned. With a sky as clear as the one that stretched above them, she was sure she could make a two-day trip without mishap.

Hugs and goodbyes were exchanged with her sisters and father, and Emily was off down the dusty road. A hand-drawn map from her father was tucked securely in her coat pocket.

The tears did not spill over until Emily was well hidden by the stands of poplar lining the country road.Then she allowed all the deep emotion to run down her cheeks and drip from her quivering chin.

This totally new venture—one she had been called to—was something she had to do, but it was not without some trepidation, some tearing away of old and dear bonds.

Emily made no effort to control her tears until she spotted a team approaching. She sniffed, took a handkerchief from her pocket, and hoped that she was successful in repairing the damage. A neighbor merely nodded and tipped his hat as they passed.

The sun was hot overhead, and Emily was glad her father had insisted she bring her everyday bonnet. She wore it now in place of the brand-new dark bonnet that was required to identify her as a churchapproved deaconess. That treasured piece of headgear was protected from dust and sun in the small box at her feet.

Her father had picked a gentle team. Though Emily was by no means a horse-woman, she had often driven her father’s well-disciplined team of bays. Shadow and Star, her new horses, needed little attention except to steer them in the right direction and urge them forward when they tried to loiter along the track.

Around noon Emily pulled the team into the shade of some larger poplar trees and climbed stiffly down from the buggy. Not used to driving a team for such a long period of time, she looked at her hands with dismay. Her fingers cramped and her hands felt as though blisters were forming.
So much for being a sturdy farm girl,
she thought wryly. She pulled off her bonnet and let the wind blow through her hair.

Emily unhooked the team and led them to water in the ditch. Shadow, eager for a drink, almost upended her in the dirty puddle. She spoke sharply to the horse and jerked on his bridle. Emily finally let go of the rein and stepped back to let him find his own way. She wasn’t going to argue with the big gray.

After the team had satisfied their thirst, Emily tied them to posts where there was ample grazing, then lifted the bag with her lunch from the wagon. Ina had prepared it for her, and Emily’s eyes misted as she looked at all the things Ina knew to be her favorites.

She was so filled with emotion that she could hardly swallow, so most of the lunch was rebundled and placed back in the buggy. Perhaps she would feel more like eating later.

The team was reluctant to give up the tall grasses. Emily had to drag on their reins and shout at the horses to get them back to the buggy. By the time she finally had them re-hitched, Emily was hot, sweaty, and angry.

At long last she was on her way again, the afternoon sun beating down upon her head.

“At least it’s not raining,” she muttered to herself as she flapped the reins over the two broad backs in front of her.The country road could be almost impassible when the heavy rains rutted the thick clay soil.

She was going to stay overnight with Fred and Agatha Russell, newly married and now in charge of the church at Conner. She was a little shy about seeing her former classmates for the first time as husband and wife. But as the afternoon wore on and the long shadows lengthened to darken the road she traveled, Emily no longer was concerned about fitting in at the home of newlyweds. She would be so thankful to see her friends and the parsonage that marked her abode for the night. She strained forward, eagerly scanning the road ahead for signs of civilization.

But it was almost dark before she finally spotted the small frame house. With a silent prayer of thanks, she turned the horses in at the gate. Her friends must have been watching for her and came out on the porch to greet her warmly. Fred took the team, and Agatha ushered Emily in to refresh herself at the kitchen basin before the evening meal was served.