“Well, I’ll have my boys bring them by when he’s at home tonight. They’ll convince him that they’ll go to waste otherwise. It’s a good use of something that might otherwise have simply gone to rot. Once he knows that, perhaps it won’t cause him concern.”
Mary bit her lower lip and dropped her head. “You’re a good woman, Mrs. Turner. We know how generous you are.”
“The things I bring represent hundreds of generous people. We believe that God calls us to love one another, Mary. We’re just doing what we feel God asks of us.”
They soon enough left Mary’s hovel and headed to another home and then another. There were hundreds—maybe thousands—of Marys in Minneapolis, and it had been breaking Evie’s heart since she first started helping with the poor. At first she had just helped put things together like bandages and little bundles of matches. As the years went by and she became old enough, she had accompanied her mother to places like Mary’s house. Mother had done most of the work back then, but now she relied on her children. And every time Evie went to offer assistance, she suffered heartbreak in a way that had forever changed her.
She hated that she couldn’t be the nurse she’d always planned on being. She hated that she would have to tell her parents the truth. And most of all, she hated that she had let everyone down. They were counting on her, and she had failed them.
“I’ll drive us directly to Charlotte’s for our meeting. No one will care that we’re dressed for working. I’ll simply explain whatwe’ve been doing,” Mother announced as they approached the wagon.
Evie wasn’t concerned. She wore her nurse’s uniform with the plain dark navy gown and white pinafore apron. She hadn’t bothered to wear the cap, feeling that was too formal for visiting the poor. Although the uniform brought a certain respect for the wearer, Evie didn’t feel she was worthy of such attention.
Help me, Lord. I don’t know how to contend with this. I felt so called to nursing, and then all of these problems arose. I’ve asked You to take away my issuesof nausea and feeling faint. I want to do what You’ve called me to do.
Then a thought came to mind. What if God hadn’t called her to nursing? What if the strong desire to help her father and win his approval was the only thing that had summoned her choice?
“Excuse me, could you help a poor man?” a voice called as Evie and her mother loaded their things in the wagon.
Mother stopped and looked at a man who squatted near a pile of trash. “What is your name?”
“Most folks call me Stubbs.” The man’s voice was raspy. He rose and tipped a large brown felt hat. “That’s my family name.” The man stood but kept his distance. “Ain’t had a decent meal in some time, and I heard you were one of those who cared about folks.”
“I’m Mrs. Turner, Mr. Stubbs. And yes, I care about folks.”
Evie watched her mother deal with the man so gently. He was badly scarred and not at all pleasant to look at. Obviously, he’d been injured by a fire at one time.
“If you come here, Mr. Stubbs, I will give you a bag of food. I have some cheese and bread, as well as fruit. Would that suit you?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’d like that.” He looked at Evie and nodded. “You’re good people.”
He followed them to the wagon, where Mother prepared a very generous sack for the man. Evie found herself looking him over for any injuries, a matter of habit after four years.
It came that way for her mother as well. “Do you have any injuries or health needs that we should address?” Mother asked. “My daughter is a nurse and quite capable of aiding you.”
The man again fixed his gaze on Evie and shook his head. “I’m doing well enough. I was in a fire a few years past, as you can see. They figured I’d die, but I showed them.”
“Did that happen here in Minneapolis?” Mother continued packing his sack.
“No ma’am. It was in Chicago. Apartment building went up in the dead of night. Ten people died and left me like this. I used to not be such a bad lookin’ fella, and I could sing too. After the fire I struggled just to speak.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. Stubbs.” Mother tied the bag off and handed over the sack. “I hope this will help, but you know just two blocks from here you will find a church-run mission house. They will give you a hot meal and provide a bed for you. They might ask for some help in return, but they’re good folks.”
“Thank you, ma’am. I’m new to town and looking for work and a place to stay.”
Mother nodded. “Just go down to the corner and turn left. Walk two blocks, and the building will be on your right. There’s a big sign. You can’t miss it. Tell them Mrs. Turner sent you.”
The man nodded and clutched the bag close. “I’ll do that, ma’am. Thank you for the food.”
Evie helped her mother onto the wagon seat and then climbed up herself. To her surprise, Mother let her take the lines. Evie urged the horse forward and merged into the busy traffic.
“I feel great pity for that man.” Mother’s voice sounded sad,almost weary. “I feel great pity for all of them. They are so defeated and downcast. And why not? The Lord alone is the one who can change their fate.”
“But we have helped them to get through another day,” Evie said, surprised by her mother’s morose tone. “You and Father have often said life is a series of events that we must survive day by day and with God’s help we need never fear the days to come.”
“And I believe that, but with this economic downturn, so many more are suffering now than before. Many businesses have failed, and their owners have lost everything. The poor become poorer, that’s always the way of it.”
Evie supposed it was true. “I was thinking about ways to provide beds. It seems a sturdy frame with roping could be relatively cheap to create. A few pieces of lumber and some rope. How hard could that be to make? How expensive? I’d be happy to put some of my inheritance to work making a few dozen of them.”
