Title:  "The Joy of the Children"
Author:  Lisa Renee 
Chapter:  One
Summary:  The events immediately following the last sentence of  
"Christy".
*********************************************************************
Disclaimer:  Catherine Marshall's beautiful story of "Christy" is owned by 
the LeSourd family.  I am in no way seeking profit or credit for her story, nor 
am I attempting to infringe upon the rights of the television series, "Christy".  
I am continuing the story of  "Christy" for my amusement only.  Any 
additions in story and character were invented by me.  Also, any similarities 
to the story lines of other fanfictions are purely coincidental.

**********************************************************************

From end of "Christy":

I WAS HEAVY, so heavy.  My eyelids were leaden. They would not open.  
The familiar voice, a man's voice, very soft.  he was talking to me, 
calling me. "Christy, Christy, you've got to come back to me. Christy, 
wherever you are, listen to me...  Christy, I love you, love you, 
*love you*.  Christy can you hear me?  Down in your spirit, at the depth 
of you, do you hear what I'm saying to you?  *I love you!*  You cannot 
leave me without knowing this.  Christy--"

     And then the tone of the words changed.  "God, I have fought 
against You because I have not understood.  Not only fought, God, but 
cursed You. I did not understand why You let Margaret die--and our son.  
I did not understand anything about You.  I still don't understand 
anything--except that somehow I know *You are love.*  And that in my 
heart has been born so great a love for Christy as I did not know could 
exist on this earth.  You, God, must be responsible.  You must have put 
it there.  So what do I do with it now?"  The voice broke.  The 
bedclothes muffled a man's sobs.  I wanted to comfort the man in some 
way.  I tried to lift my hand, but it was too heavy. Still my eyelids 
would not open.

     The voice was hoarse with emotion.  "Lord God Almighty, Lord God of 
heaven and of earth, I have been stiff-necked and proud, arrogant and 
stupid.  I am not worthy of--of anything, least of all to ask any favors 
of You."  The voice paused.  The room was very quiet.  I could hear the 
sharp intake of the man's breath.  "Lord God, You are the Creator, I am 
the created.  I am helpless, as helpless as all other men.  As a doctor, 
I thought I knew something.  Now there is nothing more that I can do for 
Christy.  Nothing at all.

     "So I offer back to You this love You gave.  IT's all I have to 
give You, God.  Here are our lives--hers and mine--I hold them out to 
You.  Do--with us--as--You please."  The voice fell silent.
     So his was the voice that had called me back.  Dr. MacNeill's.  He 
needed me.  He *loved* me.  He loved me like *that*.  

     There was a warm glow in the room.  Warmth came into me, starting 
at the top of my head and flowing steadily downward, into my brain, into 
my face--my eyelids fluttered open.  Familiar objects in the room came 
into focus.  He was still there beside my bed, his head sunk on the 
covers, on hand stretched out with the bowl of that old pipe of his 
clutched in it, but the stem of the pipe was broken.  It had fallen from 
his hand and lay on the rumpled covers of the bed.  

     And still the strength and the warmth flowed--into my chest, along 
my arms.  I could move my fingers now.

     I felt across the counterpane until my hand reached his, the big 
hand with the blond-red hairs on top.  My fingers closed over his hand 
and gripped it.  His head came up.

     "*Christy*!"  

     The joy of the children was in his voice.


*********************************************************************

"The Joy of the Children", Chapter One:

THE JOY OF THE CHILDREN...Dr. MacNeill had the joy of the 
children...*What I wanted!*

     Suddenly, without needing to know when or why or how, I knew that I 
loved Dr. MacNeill.  I *loved* him!  I loved him like he loved me!
     There were tears in his hazel eyes--tears.  Yes, and something 
else--the expression I had seen there so many times and not recognized:  
love, true, pure love.

     My hand still rested on his, and he caught it up to his lips.  "Oh, 
God," he cried through a sob.  "You have brought her back to me!"
     It wasn't really a prayer--more like an irrepressible cry of 
gratitude that surged from Dr. MacNeill's soul.  He was just talking to 
God, his God now, and it was so obvious to me what a deep, personal 
experience he had had with the Lord.

     I wanted to speak.  I wanted to tell the Doctor how happy I was 
that he had found God.  But I was at a loss for words; I didn't have any 
idea how to begin.  I also felt "I love you" welling up inside me, yet  
I felt too shy to say such a thing; I had just discovered my feelings 
for him myself.  And the mere thought of speaking took more energy than 
I possessed.

     Oh, but I wanted to say something...anything.  When I looked into 
his eyes, though, I knew I didn't *have* to say anything.  I squeezed 
the Doctor's hand again and twined my fingers through his.
     With his free hand, Dr. MacNeill felt my forehead.  Instantly, he 
was all doctor, and he released my hand.  He checked my pules, felt my 
side, my stomach.  I had the sensation he had done this before...His 
gentle hands examining me...When had that been?  I had been in a 
fog...Not too long ago, it was...

     Did my stomach hurt?  My side?  "No," I told him; it took a lot of 
effort, but I managed to utter the word.  That other time it *had* hurt, 
and I hadn't been able to tell him.  Was I well now?  I thought I read 
relief on the Doctor's rugged features.  The worry lines on his forehead 
softened, his eyes were bright, he was smiling...I must be well.  But I 
was so tired...

     Before I could ask him, though, Dr. MacNeill had sprung from my 
bedside, thrown open the door, and cried out, "Alice!  Alice, come 
quickly!"

     Footsteps, clattering up the stairs...Miss Alice was in the room in 
an instant.

     "Neil," she panted from the doorway, "is--is Christy--"  She saw 
that I was awake and was instantly at my side, holding my hand, stroking 
my hair.  Tears flowed down her cheeks.

     "It's a miracle, Alice--a miracle!" cried the Doctor, smiling 
broadly.  "Half an hour ago it was hopeless; there was nothing I could 
do for her.  But the fever has broken, her pulse is normal, everything 
looks good!  She's out of danger!  It was *God*, Alice!  He healed her!"
     Miss Alice was dumbfounded.  My heart thrilled at Dr. MacNeill's 
words because I knew what had happened in him.  But Mis Alice hadn't 
heard him pray, and her expression pleaded for an explanation.

     "Yes, Alice, I did acknowledge God, and I will be delighted to talk 
with you later."

     Miss Alice nodded, grey eyes bright; it seemed as if she suddenly 
grasped the meaning of his words and the change in the Doctor's 
countenance.  Just then, David burst through the door, Ida at his heels.
     "We heard the commotion," he said.  "How's--"

     "Good morning, David," I said, finally finding enough energy to 
speak.

     David's dark brows shot up.  "Christy!  You're awake!"

     "Awake," added Dr. MacNeill, "and on the road to recovery!"

     "How do you feel, Christy?" David asked, both relieved and 
concerned.

     "Tired.  Very tired."

     "That is understandable," said Dr. MacNeill, smiling tenderly at 
me.  "You have had a rough time of it, Christy.  It will be several days 
at least before you begin to feel stronger--you know that from nursing 
typhoid.  Lots of rest is what you need."

     I nodded, my eyelids beginning to droop.

     "We should leave her now," the Doctor told the others.
     "I will look in on thee when you have slept," said Miss Alice.
     Dr. MacNeill lingered in the room after the others had gone.
     "I want to talk to you, Dr. MacNeill."

     "You don't have to call me 'Dr. MacNeill', you know. I don't recall 
calling you 'Miss Huddleston' in quite some time.  Aren't you familiar 
enough with me for 'Neil' to suffice?"

     He said it teasingly, but I knew he meant it.  'Dr. MacNeill' did 
sound distant.

     Neil came back over to me and sank into the chair next to my bed. 
It was then I noticed his haggard appearance. 

     "When was the last time you had a decent night's sleep, Neil?"
     He grinned--wearily--but was still quick in his banter.  "Are you 
going to be the doctor now, Christy?"

     "Yes," I replied and reached up to finger an unruly red curl that 
fell over his forehead, then laid my hand upon his cheek, which was 
rough with several days' unshaven beard.  "It was before the epidemic, 
wasn't it?"

     He nodded, drawing in his breath and placing his large hand on top 
of mine.  "But that's not what you wanted to talk to me about."
     "No," I murmured, yawning.  "You're too tired...You must go sleep 
for a while...Then  we'll talk."

     "Yes, Teacher."

     I closed my eyes, but I knew he was smiling, and I knew exactly 
how...so loving...I felt his lips, soft and gentle, on my forehead.  
Then I drifted away...Blissful sleep.


WHEN I AWOKE late in the afternoon, my first thought was how nice it 
would feel to wash.  I tried to get out of bed, but my legs shook 
violently when I tried to put my weight on them.  I knew I should stay 
in bed, but the thought of cool water on my body--just a quick sponge 
bath--was so appealing that somehow, with the aid of various articles of 
furniture, I slowly made my way across the room to the wash stand.

     I let out a small cry when I saw myself in the mirror.  My face was 
as white as my sheets, and my cheek bones protruded from the taught 
skin.  There were deep hollows and black, black circles under my eyes.  
I noticed how loosely my nightgown fit, and it dawned on me that I had 
lost a lot of weight.  

     "You shouldn't be so surprised, Christy," I said to myself.  

"Everyone who survives typhoid looks like this."  

     But I was so wasted!  I could count every rib, every bone in my 
body, for that matter.  There was nothing left of me!  Suddenly, I had 
no strength left, and I more or less crawled back to my bed.  Washing 
would just have to wait, I thought with a sigh.

     The door opened a crack and Miss Alice poked her head in.  "Ah, 
thou art awake!  Did you sleep well?  Would thee like something to eat?"
     "I slept very well, and yes I *am* hungry."  THen I added, "Miss 
Alice, I want to wash so badly, but I don't have the strength.  Can you 
help me get out of bed so I can freshen up?"

     She smiled compassionately and complied, and soon I was tucked 
between fresh sheets, smelling nice, my hair brushed and braided, 
wearing a clean nightgown.  Though momentarily refreshed, by the time 
Miss Alice had helped me eat a bowl of hot broth, I was once again 
drained of all energy.

     Miss Alice noted my yawns and drooping eyelids and smoothed back a 
few stray hairs from my forehead.  "Now, you must rest some  
more,Christy."

     "I hate sleeping so much," I replied.  "But it *does* feel good..."

     "No one is more entitled to it."

     "Except Dr. MacNeill.  I told him to sleep.  Did he?"

     "Yes, he did," Miss Alice assured me.  "After he left thee, he went 
to his room and didn't even get up for lunch.  I imagine someone will 
have to wake him so he does not sleep through dinner, as well.  But do 
not talk any more, Christy.  there will be plenty of time for that 
later.

     "Yes, later..." And once again I was a captive of all-enveloping 
solace and repose.

**********************************************************************
Chapter:  Two
Summary:  Christy catches up with Miss Alice and *others*.  (He, he!)

*********************************************************************
TWO DAYS consisting chiefly of uninterrupted sleep left me decidedly 
better, and as Miss Alice fed me my dinner of broth (Was it dinner?  I 
had been having broth for every meal, so it was becoming difficult to 
keep track of which meal I was eating), I gave Ruby Mae a run for her 
money as to how many questions could be asked in a small time-span.  I 
wanted to know about everything I had missed during my illness.

     "It is my prayer that typhoid has run its course here," Miss Alice 
said.  "Neil seems to think so--no new cases since you came down with 
it, and that was nearly four weeks ago.  Lety Coburn didn't make it, 
though," she added sorrowfully.

     "Poor Bessie!" I cried, with a stab of grief for al my students who 
had lost parents and other loved ones during the epidemic.  I could not 
think about it then, so I changed the subject.  "Do my parents know I've 
had typhoid?"

     "I telephoned them when thee first became ill.  They were both very 
worried about you and ready to come on the first train from Asheville, 
but Neil was adamant against anyone coming into the Cove during the 
epidemic, whether they were family or not.  Your father called every 
night to find out how you were and make me promise to call them if there 
was any change at all in your condition.  It was the hardest thik in the 
world, Christy, to tell them day after day that you were no better and 
still not permit them to come to you.  Two nights ago we were all afraid 
that we were going to *have* to call them and tell them to come.  Your 
life was completely in teh Lord's hands."

     It frightened me to think how close I had been to death; I knew how 
worried my parents must have been, and how frustrated being able only to 
sit at home and wait.

     "However," Miss Alice said, "you should have heard the sighs of 
relief when I talked to your father the morning you awoke.  He would 
like you to telephone when you feel up to it."

     I nodded.  "Has the school opened?"  I asked, suddenly thinking 
about it.

     Miss Alice told me it had, and that David was teaching during my 
absence.  "Oh," she added, "we sent the boarders home; with all the 
typhoid being nursed here, Neil said it would be best."

     "Where is Neil?"

     "Oh, somewhere around," said Miss Alice.  "Making various calls, I 
presume, but I think he will be here soon to examine thee--and to talk."  
She smiled,then continued, "Neil and I had a long discussion last night, 
and I was very pleased by it."

     I knew exactly what Miss Alice had discussed with Neil; she was 
glowing from head to toe because of Neil's conversion, and her joy 
filled me with excitement to speak with him about it.

     "And what has caused such a lovely smile to cross thy face, Miss 
Huddleston?" my friend asked.  "Thou art beaming!"

     "Oh, Miss Alice!" I cried, unable to contain myself.  "I love 
Neil!"

     A satisfied expression was on her face, but I saw something else 
there, as well.

     "You knew!"

     A nod and a smile from the Quaker lady.  "I have known for a long 
time that thou hast loved Neil."

     *A long time?*  I thought, then I realized it *had* been a long 
time:  from the very beginning he had annoyed and confused me--yes, even 
infuriated me, and yet I sometimes felt that he understood me and my 
dreams better than anyone else.  I had often wondered why my feelings 
for Neil MacNeill were so confused, and now I wanted to laugh wildly at 
my blindness.  It was because I loved him!  Why else would I have felt 
so happy and free when I danced with him at Ruby Mae's wedding?  Why 
else would I have been dizzy and light-headed after he kissed me?  Why 
else, in a moment of sudden warmth and realization of belonging in the 
Cove, would I have kissed *him* as I did on that day I rode with him to 
the mission?  Of course, it was because I loved him!

     "I am very glad that you have at last discovered your feelings," 
Miss Alice said.

     "Well, well, look here; Rip van Winkle has awakened at last," David 
teased from the doorway, interrupting our conversation.  That boyish 
gleam was in his dark eyes.  "These are for you, Christy," he said, 
handing me a bouquet of autumn wildflowers.

     Immediately I thought, "I never gave David an answer to his 
proposal.  And here I am in love with another man, while the first 
resumes his courting.  Whatever am I going to do?"

     "They're lovely, David.  How very sweet of you," I said awkwardly, 
as I accepted the gift.  But just then, I noticed that he looked more 
peaceful than I had seen him in a long time, and his expression was one 
of friendship--not courtship.  Quickly I added, "Thank you so much for 
taking over the school, David.  How is it going?  How are the children?"

    "They miss you..."

     All of the sudden, I realized how much I missed the children.  I 
missed seeing those dirty, bright shining faces every day.  I missed 
their jokes, their questions, their stories, their curiosity, their 
tenacity, their zeal...Oh, how I loved them!  How long had it been?  
Much, much too long!

     "Thou art someplace else, Christy Huddleston."  Miss Alice's words 
brought me back from my thoughts, and I realized I hadn't been listening 
to David.

     "Oh,David, I'm so sorry.  I didn't mean...I just started thinking 
about the children, and..."

    "It's all right, Christy," David replied, taking my hand.  "I 
understand.  We can talk later, when you're feeling more like it."

     "Thank you," I said, pulling my hand away, but smiling.

     "We're overdue for a long talk," he said from the doorway.  "That's 
my fault."  There was no sign of reproach in his voice, and I knew 
everything was going to be right between us.

     "How's my patient?" Neil came in my room a few minutes later, 
smiling broadly at me.

     "Much better," I replied, completely forgetting about David.

     "Good."

     Neil kept his eyes fixed on me, and I felt the color rising in my 
cheeks.  I looked down at my quilt to hide my blush, but I could still 
feel his gaze, which made it even worse.  I knew my face was bright 
crimson, and I knew that both he and Miss Alice saw.

     Miss Alice silently gathered up the tray and empty dishes.
     "I have to examine her first, Alice," said Neil, sticking a 
thermometer in my mouth.  "You don't have to leave just yet."

     He took my pulse, listened to my heart, poked and prodded and 
looked me over, and finally, removed the thermometer.  "Very good."  He 
grinned. 

 "No fever at all.  Ten more fever-free days, and I'll let you get out 
of bed."

     "Then can I go back to school?"

     "No," he replied, shaking his head, "because you will still need to 
take it easy.  I want you to completely regain your strength before you 
go back."     

     "But, Neil," I protested, "I *have* to go--"

     "David can handle it, Christy.  I don't want you to do too much 
too soon; that's the best way to get sick again--especiall with all the 
germs those children carry."

     "How long, though?" I pleaded.

     "As long as it takes.  I will tel you when you can go back."

     "Well, what about the boarders?" I asked indignantly; I was dying 
to see the children, and the Doctor just wasn't cooperating.  "When can 
they come back?"

     "Not until you're back in school."

     I started to argue, but Neil held up his hand to silence me.  

"Christy, how much rest do you think you'd be getting with them here?  
I simply cannot allow a bunch of children here while you're recovering; 
you've been very sick."

     "I know!" I cried.  "But please, Neil?  *Please?*"

     "You're a very stubborn patient, Miss Huddleston."

     "I think you just enjoy lording it over me that you get to decide 
what I can and cannot do," I retorted.

     "Aye," Neil said.  "You're used to getting you're way with people 
because you're so clever, but I'll tell you right now you'll not be 
getting your way with *me*.

     "You're just a stubborn Scot."

     "I'm not ashamed to admit it, Miss Huddleston," he grinned.

     "Thee must do as the Doctor says," said Miss Alice on her way out 
the door, suppressing a grin.  "I am very pleased with his report, though.  
I will see thee again later."

     Neither Neil nor I spoike for several minutes after Miss Alice had 
gone.

     "You don't know how relieved I am that you don't have a fever," he 
said at last.  Then he added, his eyes gleaming mischievously, 
"Although you had me worried a few minutes ago; you were terribly flushed."

     My mouth fell open.  "That's not fair, Doctor!  You *made* be 
blush!" I blurted.  I covered my mouth, realizing what I had just said.  
Dr. MacNeill threw back his head and laughed, and if I was red before, 

I certainly blushed now.

     "*I* made you blush?" he asked, still laughing.

     I laughed, too, in spite of myself.  "I have always been one to 
blush horribly at anything; it is my lifelong affliction."

     "But tell me, what could I have done to embarrass you so?"

     "Nothing!" I said.  I did *not* want him to know he could have 
effected me so with a single look.  But he stopped laughing and gazed 
at me as before.  Neil got his desired result; I tried not to, but I felt 
his eyes watching me so intently, all I could do was blush.  Oh, he was 
a merciless tease!  The man had unnerved me, and he knew it.

    "Are you sure it was nothing I did?" he asked playfully, and I had 
to laugh with him.

     When we were serious once more, I tried to think what I was going 
to say to him.  How on earth was I going to begin?  I had heard him 
confess his love for me; I had heard him weep; I had heard him cry out to God.  
I was so curious, but could I really ask him about such things?  Was it 
right?  I felt as though I had intruded on his heart.

     "I know what you want to talk to me about, Christy," Neil said.

     "You always do," I murmured, marveling at how well he knew me.

     "There are two reasons for that," he said with a chuckle.  "One, 
I'm observant, and two,  those big blue eyes of yours can't hide a thing."  

After a brief pause he continued, "Anyway, you heard me.  I don't know 
how much you heard, but you heard *something*."

     "You prayed."
     "Were you surprised to hear me pray, Christy?"

     "Well," I said slowly.  "I didn't know it was you at first.  But 
when I *did* know, yes, I think I was a *little* surprised.  But, Neil, 
why did you pray?"

     "For the first time in my life, I realized how helpless I was.  

And then I heard the voice I had shut out all my life.  And then I 
found..." 

His voice trailed away.

     "What did you find?"

     "Love," came his simple reply.

     "That's what I found," I said, remembering those days of anguish 
and oubt and emptiness after Fairlight died.  I told him about my encounter 
with God.  "You see, we're the same."

     "But you believed in Him all your life," said Neil.  "I ran from 
Him and mocked Him."

     I shook my head.  "It doesn't matter what you did."

     "That's what Alice said."

     "Do you believe it?"

     "At first I was skeptical," Neil admitted.  "It seemed strange to 
me that all men's sin could be the same in the sight of God.  And I didn't 
just want to adopt Alice's faith; it had to be *mine*.  But when I 
think about that love..."

     "You know it has to be?" I finished.
     "Yes, and I can *feel* His forgiveness.  He told me that He's 
wiped all that away."

     "So," I stammered.  "You, you..."

     "Yes, Christy, you can't get it out, but I know what you're 
asking.   I've asked the Lord to forgive my sins and ot come into my life."

     My eyes filled with tears.  I had known Neil had become a 
Christian, but to hear him declare it stirred my heart.  "I'm so happy to hear 
that!  You have no idea how happy, Neil!"

     Neil smiled, but we lapsed into silence again.  I spoke first this 
time.  "You said I believed in God all my life.  Well, I believed 
*about* God before I met Him on the mountain, not *in* Him; that's about the 
same as not believing at all.  And come to think of it, you knew I didn't 
know what I believed.  You knew that wasn't really belief, and that was 
something that made me think, as mad as it made me at the time."

     Neil smiled reluctantly and hung his head a little.  "I'm sorry 
about that.  We've had our differences, but that's all forgiven, isn't 
it?"

     I looked into his eyes.  "I forgave you a long time ago."
 
    For a minute I thought he might say something, but he didn't.  

Neil studied me for a moment.  "Is that all you heard."

     "What?"

     "Did you only hear me pray?"

     "Well, no.  I as far away," I explained to him my vision of the 
children and the light.  "I heard you calling me."

     Neil's mouth turned in a half-grin, and he looked down, fingers 
tugging nervously at the ends of his hair.  "You heard *everything* 
then..."  More to himself than to me, he added, "This is going to be a 
lot tougher to explain than the prayer was."

     "You don't have to explain," I said, feeling horribly for having 
let on that I knew.

  He met my gaze again.  "Not it's all right.  You and I have always 
been honest with each other, Christy, and since you heard, I owe you an 
explaination."

     "I didn't *mean* to listen..."

     "I was talking to you, anyway.  I knew you might hear me..." Neil 
again ran his hand through his hair as he groped for what he would say 
next.  "I would not have spoiken to you if I didn't want you to hear, 
and I wanted you to hear, because if you could, it would be a good sign...I 
*had* to tell you how I felt about you in case you...And that's the way 
I feel about you."

     Neil must have had a thought that his confession might make me 
uncomfortable, because he added, in a softer tone, "I said it because 
that's how I feel, but, Christy, I'm not trying to make you fall in 
love with me..."

     "I am," I said, without even thinking.

     "You are what?"

     "In love with you," I replied, gazing up into his eyes.  How easy 
it was to tell him that!  "I love you, Neil!"

     The Doctor was rapturous.  His expression had changed from one of 
shyness and doubt to the most joyous one I had ever seen.  "Oh, 
Christy!  You love me?"  He grasped both my hands, leaning closer to me.

     "Yes, Neil, I do!"

     Neil leaned over and kissed my temple, then my cheek; I held my 
breath.  His fingers lightly caressed my chin as his lips met mine, 
softely, tenderly...And no kiss had ever been sweeter than that first 
expression of our new-found love."   
**********************************************************************

Chapter:  Three
Summary:  Christy has another important discussion; tells of a thriving 
relationship.

"The Joy of the Children", Chapter Three

LIGHT flooded my room and pulled my eyes open--morning.  How odd that I 
didn't remember falling asleep.  My mind was endlessly replaying the 
previous evening's scene with Neil:  how I told him I loved him, the 
look on his face, his *kiss*...

     After that, everything was a blur, but I vaguely recalled him 
gently laying me back against my pillows, pulling the covers up to my 
chin, whispering, "Go to sleep, Christy."  How could I have possibly 
gone to sleep after being kissed like that?  It had been gentle, but so 
exhilarating at the same time, and I had wanted to be with Neil 
longer...But somehow I had fallen asleep, my sleep filled with sweet 
dreams...

     I threw back the bedclothes and got out of bed.  My legs were a 
little shaky as I made my way across my room to the balcony, but it felt 
good to be out of bed.  I stood and gazed out at the autumn landscape.  
The mountains were right outside my window, shining orange and red as 
the sun rose behind them.  I had never seen such a glorious dawn, and 
the beauty filled my entire body with strength.

     A honking v of geese flew over the huge trees, whose golden leaves 
swirled gracefully to the frosty ground in the icy breeze.  I realized 
how cold it was then, as I shivered in my nightgown, and decided to get 
my robe.  I put it on and brushed and braided my hair, then went back 
out on the balcony to see that Neil was riding up into the yard.
     "Good morning, Neil!" I called down to him cheerfully.

     He looked up at me, surprised.  "And good morning to you, Christy," 
he replied, tethering Charlie to a post and hurrying inside the mission 
house.

     I was still out on the balcony when he knocked on my door and came 
in.

     "I was afraid we'd wake up everyone in the mission if we kept 
shouting to each other like that," he said.  "But I *would* like to know 
what you're doing out of bed, Miss Huddleston.  Did I not distinctly 
tell you that you were to stay in bed for ten days?"  He looked serious.

     I decided to wile myself out of this one.  "Well, yes, you did, 
Doctor, but I woke up and saw the sun coming up over the mountains, and 
I just *had* to get up.  I've never seen such a lovely morning--this is 
my first autumn in Cutter Gap, you know...And I feel *great* today."

     "That may be, but you know how typhoid is," Neil replied, coming 
over to me.  "And I would hold myself responsible if were to relapse."  
He stood very close now, his hands on my shoulders, and he continued, 
almost in a whisper, "I don't want anything else to happen to you, 
Christy..."

     I didn't get in bed immediately.  I just stood there, gazing at 
Neil.  He lifted my chin and softly kissed my forehead.

     "I really mean it, Christy," he said, caressing my cheek with the 
back of his fingers.  "Go back to bed.  I know you dread it, but it's 
for the best right now.  I promise I'll be here often--and not just to 
take your temperature."

    I went back to my bed and climbed in.  When the good Doctor spoke so 
tenderly, how could I not obey him?


LATER in the day David came to see me.  "Christy, are you feeling up to 
talking today?"

     "Of course," I told him.

     "Are you sure?  I have some pretty serious things I want to say."

     "Yes David, I'm very sure." 

     I motioned to a bedside chair, and he sat down, nervously rubbing 
his hands on his knees for a moment.  

     I touched his arm ad said, "Don't worry, David.  You can tell me 
anything, you know."

     "Well, then," David began, clearing his throat, "I'll start with 
what happened to me while you were sick.  It's the best place to start.

     "Remember the night you collapsed I had been talking about not 
knowing where God wanted me to be?  Well, I did a lot of thinking--and 
praying--about that.  I don't know if you heard me in the midst of your 
delirium, but I told you that I had decided to stay here.  You see, 
Christy, I had an encounter with God, and for the first time in my life, 
I really felt His Presence.  It was the greatest thing I've ever 
experienced.  Suddenly I was before Him, and He was showing me His 
glory, and I realized that He was the One for Whom I'm supposed to live.  
He showed me so many areas in my life which I had not given over to Him.  
He told me that I would never have peace about anything unless I truly 
made Him Master of my life--like Miss Alice was telling me.

     "So, after a lot of self-examination, I asked God to take my 
*whole* life, and I knew that He had it; it was up to me to listen to 
Him now and obey.  And that's what I *want* to do.  I'm not afraid of 
His Lordship any more."

     Oh, David," I cried.  "I'm so happy for you!"

     "Thanks," he replied.  "But there's something else I want to say."  
He took a deep breath.  "Christy, last July I asked you to marry me."
     "David, I--"

     He held up a hand.  "No, let me talk.  I never should have asked 
you. I told myself that our marriage was what God wanted for my life.  
It seemed so perfect; why else would God have brought both of us here?  
Why else would we have been such good friends from the beginning if not 
for some great purpose? 

     "I realize now that His purpose is just that--for us to be friends.  
I'm sorry if this hurts you, Christy.  It's my fault for being impulsive 
and hasty in our relationship, for assuming it was love when it wasn't.  
And I'm afraid I haven't been very gentlemanly, either."

     "Don't feel badly, David," I said.  "I've known for a while, too, 
that we weren't meant to be husband and wife.  I know that Cutter Gap is 
where God wants me.  This is where I'm going to spend my life, and you 
might not, David; if I married you, I couldn't fully commit myself to 
this place."

     David nodded as I continued," I can't tell you how much your 
friendship has meant to me, though.  I don't know what I would have done 
those first few months her if it hadn't been for you, David.  I love you 
very much."

     Smiling, David said, "I love you, too, Christy."  He kissed me 
softly on the cheek--a sisterly kiss.

     We both turned our heads to peer out the window at the sound of 
hoof beats outside.  Neil was riding up into the mission yard.
     David stood and said, "I've got some stuff to do, so I'll leave you 
now."  He grinned impishly.  "I think a certain Doctor is very anxious 
to examine his patient--or maybe just to see the woman he loves."

     I blushed slightly, and that boyish look came ito David's eyes as 
he bantered, "Don't look so surprised, Christy.  Everyone around here 
knows there's an--" he groped for a word.  "--*attraction* between the 
two of you.  It's obvious to anyone who has eyes."


INITIALLY I dreaded those ten days alone in my room, but they did not 
end up being as lonely as I had thought.  When I wasn't napping or 
reading, Miss Alice and David kept me company, as did Neil, who was at 
the mission every moment he could be.

     The two of us spent hours talking.  It was so easy to talk to Neil!  
I realized that we had always conversed easily--whether we had gotten 
along or not.  But now we could talk *without* arguing.  Many of our 
conversations were about God.  I smiled to myself as I recalled the time 
in the schoolroom when Neil had asked me why religion was important to 
me and what was my philosophy of life; how much better it was now!  I 
had a *real* relationship with my God, so I didn't speak vaguely or 
"mouth platitudes" as Neil had accused me before.  And his scientific 
mind had been transformed--no more trying to reason everything for Neil 
MacNeill; personally experiencing God's love was 
reason enough for him to believe.

     One day Neil came into my room carrying a tattered book.  "It's my 
father's Bible," he explained.  "And it was his father's before that.  
Actually, my ancestors brought it all the way from Scotland."  In a 
soft, reluctant tone he added, "My parents used to read it aloud every 
night.  I've wandered so far from their teachings..."

     I had never heard him speak of his parents.  Laying my hand on his, 
I asked, "What happened to them, Neil?"

     "When I was twelve," he began, "my father was injured in a hunting 
accident--took a bullet in his shoulder.  It should not have killed him, 
but there was no doctor, and the wound was not properly cleaned.  It got 
infected and gangrene set in, then blood poisoning..."

     He looked up at me then, and continued.  "That's what made me 
decide to become a doctor, you know.  I could not stand to watch people 
die when, if there had been a doctor, they could have lived."

     Abruptly, Neil turned back to the story of his parents, his voice 
pained.  "Two years later, I had typhoid.  Mother nursed me through it, 
but then she fell ill from it and died."

     *Typhoid*.  The word ran in my ears like a death knell.  How many 
loved ones Neil had lost to that disease!  Not only Margaret and their 
baby, but his *mother*.  No wonder he responded emotionally to the 
epidemic.

     I sat dumbly for a few minutes, but finally I commented, "You said 
you've wandered from your parents' teachings, but you came back, Neil; 
that's what matters."  Then I added, "Will you read to me?"

     "Of course," Neil replied, thumbing absently through the pages.  

"Where should I start?"

     "At the beginning."

     "'In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth...'"  As he 
read, I watched how the words effected him.  His eyes gleamed as he read 
of the creation, the fall of man, Noah and the flood...These weren't 
just childhood stories any more; they were *real*, and God was alive in 
them and in Neil's heart.  I heard in a new way, too; the joy the words 
brought the reader poured out of him, and I was caught up in the awesome 
power of our God--the same Miracle Worker of the Old Testament.  Each 
day we read together, seeing the Lord more clearly in every verse, 
growing closer to Him--and each other.

     I treasured getting to know Neil better.  I began to see those 
strengths and depths to which Miss Alice had once referred.  Neil 
listened to me, let me say whatever I felt, always *wanted* to know...I 
could confide in him, and I trusted him completely.  Except for 
Fairlight and Miss Alice, there had been no one in the Cove with whom I 
felt so at ease.  Neil wholly understood me, like no one I had ever 
known.

     How was it that I could feel this way about Neil when only a few 
months before every conversations we had turned into an argument?  Now I 
saw how much we had in common:  our love for Cutter Gap and the people 
here; the desire to give all we could to them; a stubborn will that 
drove us to act on our beliefs.  Yet these were the same characteristics 
that had so annoyed me.  Maybe it was because I had missed the love and 
seen only stubbornness combined with conceit and disbelief in God.

     Oh, but since Neil became a Christian!  He was a new man--I had 
seen that immediately.  His indentions had been filled with God's love, 
and it magnified those other qualities and made them shine!  I knew that 
God had changed me, too, since I had come to Cutter Gap.  I was in awe 
of the miracles He had worked in our lives.  He had drawn the two of us 
to Himself, filled us up, and taken all the flaws in our relationship 
and perfected it to fit His desire for us!

     Miss Alice sat silently, a satisfied smile on her face as I related 
all this to her.  I had all these new feelings inside of me, and I 
wanted to share them with her.

     "Thou hast seen, as few people do, *exactly* the way God makes 
human beings more like Him.  When He says 'Be ye perfect as your Father 
is perfect', He does no mean for us to do it on our own; if we try, we 
will only fail miserably.  But when one is living in God's love and 
submitting to His will, He transforms that person, just as He has changed 
*you*, Christy. 

     "When you came here, you tried to live the life one must live in a 
place like Cutter Gap.  You were so sickened by some of the things you 
saw, you thought this couldn't be where God wanted you to be.  Then, 
little by little, bit by bit you heard Him calling to you to trust Him, 
and you learned to obey and to hold onto God's Presence.

     "Then one day you were suddenly enveloped in His love, His peace; 
He gave you a *real* faith, and you saw *Him*, and you haven't been that 
same Asheville girl since."

     I marvelled at how Miss Alice had known just what I had experienced 
deep in my heart.  God had gifted her with such wisdom and perception!  
She lapsed into one of her Quaker silence I had grown to love.  Finally 
she spoke again.  "I know that thou hast found joy here amid all the 
sorrows and struggles--in the children, in your friends, in *love*--" We 
both giggled, then she continued, "and most of all, in the Lord.  Hold 
on to that joy, Christy; *never* let it go.  It will see thee through 
everything."

**********************************************************************

Chapter:  Four
Summary:  The ten days are up; some visitors come to Cutter Gap.


**********************************************************************

"IT'S BEEN TEN DAYS, Miss Huddleston.  Are you ready to get out of bed?"
    I closed the book I had been reading and looked to the doorway of my 
room where Neil stood.  His formality, to which he often reverted 
playfully, caused me to smile.  He began laughing as he observed that 
the bed was made and I was sitting on top of the coverlet, fully 
dressed.

     "Now that is like you.  I would bet money you didn't want to waste 
any time getting downstairs when I gave my permission, so as soon as you 
woke up this morning, you got up and dressed.  I am right?"

     I just laughed.

     "Of course, Miss Huddleston, I ought to make you lie down again; 
you got up without my permission to get dressed."

     "Forgive me, Doctor," I said as I put my feet on the floor and 
stood.

     Neil came over to me and took my arm. "Let me help you," he said 
gently.  I was glad to receive his help; even though I felt better, my 
legs were weak and shaky from disuse.  I leaned on him as we went 
downstairs.

     "Alice tells me there's a telephone call you've been wanting to 
make?"

     "Yes," I replied.  "Father wanted me to telephone as soon as I felt 
up to it.  I really should have done it sooner, but a certain Doctor 
wouldn't let me out of bed."  I cast Neil a saucy, sidelong glance.

     He smiled.  "How unfeeling of him."

     Neil and I went into the living room where Miss Alice and David sat 
drinking tea.  Miss Alice rose, took my hand, and let me to the sofa.  
     "How do you feel?  It is nice to have thee downstairs again!"

     I sat down and sipped the scalding tea she gave me.  After visiting 
with everyone for a while, I decided to telephone my parents.  Miss 
Alice accompanied me and made the call.

     "Mr. Huddleston?" she said loudly into the receiver.  "This is 
Alice Henderson.  No, no, Christy is fine.  As a matter of fact, she is 
standing right here.  She wishes to speak with thee."

     "Daddy!" I cried.  "Yes, Daddy, I'm feeling *much* better.  Dr. 
MacNeill and everybody at the mission have taken good care of me.  I 
haven't had a fever for ten days, and I'm out of bed now.  Dr. MacNeill 
wants me to wait a while before I go back to teaching, though."

     My father asked me if it was safe for Mother and him to come see 
me.

     "You want to come all the way out to Cutter Gap?  I'm doing just 
fine, Daddy.  In no time I'll be completely back to normal.  You don't 
have to come, you know."

     I listened as Father informed me that he and Mother had not slept 
soundly since they heard I had typhoid and would not be content until 
they had seen me themselves.

     "Well, all right, Daddy, if you insist.  Let me ask the Doctor if 
he thinks it's safe."

     After receiving the affirmative, I went back to the telephone and 
relayed the answer to Father, who stated that he, Mother, and George 
would arrive at El Pano the next afternoon.

     "Someone from the mission will be there to meet you," I replied.  
"Give Mother my love."

     I hung up the receiver, walked back into the living room, and sat 
down in an empty chair next to Neil.  "My family is coming 
tomorrow--Mother and Father would not be persuaded otherwise.  Can 
someone meet them in El Pano?"

     "I will," David volunteered.  "I'll take the wagon and Buttons and 
Prince."

     A funny thought came to mind, and I laughed.  "You know, we could 
always get Ben Pentland to *walk* them the entire seven miles from El 
Pano so they could experience the Cove *my* way."

     "Complete with a brain surgery on the Spencers' kitchen table?"  
Neil quipped, a gleam in his eyes.

     "Oh, what a day that was," I groaned.  "I wonder what Mother would 
have thought."

     Suddenly I was caught in a flood of thoughts.  What *would* my 
mother think about Cutter Gap?  I knew she would cringe the moment she 
set eyes on one of the cabins and its inhabitants.  And it wouldn't help 
that I, as well as many others, was recovering from typhoid.  

     The others were talking, but I didn't hear them.  I was so worried 
about what my parents' opinion of the Cove wold be.  They wouldn't like 
it that I was here.  While they knew it only from my letters, they were 
somewhat assured that I was safe, but a letter could not truly depict 
what life here was *really* like.  Mother would pressure me to go back 
to Asheville with them, my health as an excuse.  How could I show them 
that I loved it here, regardless of how horrible it might seem to them?  
How could I ever make them understand that this was my home, where I 
knew God wanted me to stay?

     "What's on your mind, Christy?" Neil leaned close and whispered, 
concern in his eyes.   
    
     Before I could answer, David announced that he had some chores to 
do and Miss Alice that she was going to take some food to the Coburns, 
as she had several times of late, for Bessie was still slow in 
recovering and trying to manage all the housework, too.

     Neil and I were left alone in the living room.  

     "I wish they weren't coming, Neil," I said abruptly.

     "You're family?"

     "Yes," I replied.  "It's not that I don't *want* to see them..." I 
explained to him about my fears of what they would think, and I was 
almost sobbing with I finished.  "Oh, Neil, what if they make me go back 
to Asheville?  I'm so worried..."

     Neil gently took my hands in his.   "Christy, you told me that when 
you realized you wanted to give to these people, you knew without a 
shadow of a doubt that Cutter Gap was *exactly* where God wanted you to 
be.  Now, don't you think that He'll give your parents the same 
assurance He gave you?"

     I sniffed and looked into those compassionate hazel eyes.  God had 
spoken to me through Neil MacNeill.  I knew He had, because I felt a 
stirring in my soul the instant the words were uttered. 

     "Of course," I said, brightening.  "Thank you for reminding me."
     I squeezed his hand, and he smiled.


I STARED out the living room window.  Miss Alice and I were waiting for 
David to arrive with my family.  They were due at any moment, and I 
wanted not only to be the first to greet them, but for them to see how 
well I was recovering.  

     Miss Ida was in the kitchen cooking up a storm.  She had been up 
since before dawn scrubbing and cleaning, for she was as determined as I 
was to show my parents that I was perfectly safe in Cutter Gap; an 
immaculately kept house *would* go far in impression Mother.  I hoped 
and prayed it would.  Even after Neil's comforting words the previous 
day, I was still apprehensive of the visit.

     Miss Alice sensed my anxiety and laid a hand on my shoulder.  "The 
Lord *will* work it out, Christy Huddleston.  This is where thee belong.  
Trust in Him."

     I silently asked the Lord to take away my fear, and I felt better.  

     "Your friends are telling you just what I've been saying to you, 
Christy," a voice inside of me said.  "Remember the peace I gave you 
when you obeyed My command to stay in Cutter Gap.  Remember it, 
Christy."

     A horse's neigh.  Hoof beats.  Wagon wheels.  Yes, just coming up 
over the hill...There they were; George, riding Buttons, grinning and 
waving.  There were Mother and Father in the wagon.  

     "Hello, hello!" I cried, running out to meet them.

     Father jumped down from the wagon and caught me up in an embrace.  
"My Girlie...I'm so glad to see you!  You look very well, Girlie..."

     "I'm glad to see you, too, Daddy," I said, between kisses.  He 
released his hold on me to help Mother down.  She hugged me, too, and 
showered me with kisses.

     "Christy, I cannot say how relieved I am to see you!  Are you 
feeling all right?  You're so thin and pale...Are these people taking 
care of you?"

     "Of course they are, Mother.  Neil, I mean Dr. MacNeill--you'll 
meet him later; he had some other patients to see--has taken *very* good 
care of me, and so has everyone at the mission.  And it's not their 
fault I'm thin and pale; I've had *typhoid*, Mother.  Everyone loses 
weight when they've had typhoid.  But don't worry; I've been eating like 
a hose ever since I've been able to have something besides liquids.  
Miss Ida, Mr. Grantland's sister, is a fine cook."

     Mother smiled, but there was a "well, we'll just see about that" 
look behind it.  

     Miss Alice, who had been looking on, extended her hand to my 
parents.     "I am Alice Henderson.  I am very pleased to meet the two 
of thee in person."  She smiled and spoke to George.  "You must be 
George.  Did you enjoy the ride from El Pano?"

     "I did, very much," he said politely, dismounting Buttons with a 
bound and shaking Miss Alice's hand.

     "I expect you would all like some refreshment after your journey.  
Please, come inside."

     Mother and Father followed her up to the house, but I stayed behind 
with David and George, who were unloading the luggage from the wagon.  I 
smiled and said, "Thank you, David, for going for my family."

     "It was no trouble, Christy.  It was a pleasure to meet them."
     I could see George over David's shoulder, making a face.  He 
suspected something between David and me, and I knew there would be 
teasing later; I would *have* to set my younger brother straight.

     The three of us went inside the mission house, where everyone was 
drinking tea.  After chatting a while, Miss Alice and David offered to 
take my parents on a tour of the mission.  I wanted to accompany them, 
but Miss Alice wouldn't allow it.  

     "Dr. MacNeill let you get out of bed, but I don't think he intends 
for you to be traipsing all over the Cover for a while yet."

     Left alone, I wondered what I would do until they returned.  I 
considered going to the kitchen to talk to Ida, but thought the better 
of it; she never liked to be disturbed while she was cooking.  Finally I 
decided to read.  I sat on the sofa and sipped a hot cup of coffee.  
After a few minutes, I heard a knock at the door.  I answered it and 
found Neil.

     "You're family's not here yet?" he asked, coming in and noting the 
empty room.

     "Oh, yes, they've been here for a while.  Miss Alice and David are 
showing them around the mission.  They should be back soon."
     Neil sat down, and I offered him some coffee.

     He nodded and took a drink.  "I went to the Coburns' today.  I'm 
worried about Bessie.  Alice or I always make her rest when we're there, 
but I know the poor girl is doing all the housework and cooking for 
Kyle. She's not made much progress in her recovery, because she's 
wearing herself out.  I've told Kyle over and over that Bessie's *got* 
to rest, but it seems as if my words go in one ear and out the other.  
He says, 'Keepin' house's wimmin's work, an' Lety's gone now, an' Bessie 
kin handle hit right fine.  Th' workin'll make 'er strong so's she kin 
take care o' me.'  I wanted to throttle him for that, and I'll admit, I 
*did* do a bit of yelling."

     Neil ran his fingers through his hair, his brow knit in agitation.  
"If they'd just listen to me sometimes, they wouldn't end up killing 
themselves and their children..."

     I wanted to say something, but I didn't know what.  I knew how 
frustrating it was to Neil when the mountain people constantly ignored 
his instructions.  I thought of the deaths I had seen in the time I'd 
been in the Cove:  Opal McHone's baby, Lundy Taylor--things that could 
have been prevented if the people had trusted the Doctor's judgement.  
It hurt Neil deeply.  I took his hand, and he smiled.  I was glad to be 
able to comfort him a little.

     "You *are* staying for supper, aren't you, Neil?"

     "If I'm still invited, I'd love to."

     "Of course you're still invited.  I know my parents want to meet 
all my friends--especially the one who took such good care of me when I 
had typhoid."


I RETIRED to my room late that night and heaved a sigh of relief.  So 
far, all had gone well with my parents' visit to the Cove--*very* well, 
in fact. 

     Father seemed to fit right in; he came back for the tour of the 
mission talking with David as if they were old friends.  He could hardly 
believe that David could have come straight to Cutter Gap from seminary 
and constructed the church as well as preach sermons on Sundays.  And 
when I introduced Father to Neil, he was very warm in his greeting.  He 
gave Neil a firm handshake and said, "I am very glad to meet you, Dr. 
MacNeill.  I can't thank you enough for taking care of my Girlie for 
me."

     At dinner there was never a lapse in the conversation, thanks to 
gather.  He was full of questions about the work at the mission and life 
in the mountains, and Miss Alice, David, Neil, and I provided him with 
voluminous information.  Father's curiosity amused Neil, who was seated 
next to me, and he leaned over and whispered, laughing, "Now I know 
where you get your inquisitiveness and enthusiasm, Miss Huddleston."

     Father was very interested in Neil.  "Pardon me, Doctor, but I 
couldn't help noticing your accent.  Are you from Scotland?"

     "No," Neil answered.  "I was born right here in Cutter Gap.  But I 
spent some time in Scotland when I attended college and medical school 
there; that's how I picked up the dialect."

     "Neil has failed to add that his ancestors came from Scotland," 
said Miss Alice, "and the story is a tale worth hearing."

     "Will you enlighten us, Doctor?" my father eagerly asked, and he 
would not be satisfied until Neil promised to tell it after dinner.  

     Father then proceeded to ask Neil all about his medical training.  
He was very impressed that Neil had left his home and gone so far away 
to pursue medicine, then come back to practice in the Cove.

     "That's sacrifice," he said, eyes glistening with approval.  My 
heart swelled.  Father liked Neil a great deal, I could tell, and I was 
*very* glad.

     Later when we were all gathered in the sitting room before a 
roaring fire, drinking coffee, Neil told the story of his ancestors.  
When he told it, it was even more real to me then when I had heard it 
from Miss Alice.  Of course, his deep, rich brogue was the perfect touch 
to a Scottish tale, but it was more than that.  THis was *Neil's* story, 
and he was so proud of his heritage; I knew he felt honored to have been 
named for his great ancestor.  He held his audience captive, and we were 
all breathless until the end, when my father said, to Neil's delight, 
"What a tale!  What a heritage!"

     I slipped my nightgown over my head, then began taking down my 
hair. Yes, tonight boded well for gaining my parents' approval of Cutter 
Gap.  At least Father seemed to approve; I was not yet sure what Mother 
thought.  She hadn't said much during the course of the evening, save a 
few questions about moonshining and feuding.  That was like Mother, 
though: sit back and observe everything with a hawk eye, then judge.  I 
would just have to wait and see how it all turned out.
**********************************************************************


Chapter:  Five
Summary:  Christy talks with her mother about the Cove; Neil gets a "fan 
club".

**********************************************************************

AT LAST, on the fourth day of the visit, Mother and I had a chance to be 
alone.  Father and George were out hunting with Neil.  I had laughed the 
night before when Father announced that the tree of them had planned 
such an expedition; my businessman father who had lived his entire life 
in the city was going hunting!  And though George was adventurous, his 
experience was mainly making mischief with his city friends.  I could 
not imagine who would be more frustrated by the end of the day:  the two 
very inexperienced Huddlestons or Neil, the adept hunter who was to 
instruct such inept pupils.  Still, I was glad Father had taken such an 
interest in getting to know my friends.

     "Mother," I said when the two of us were walking about the mission 
yard.  "I haven't heard much from you the past couple of days.  What do 
you think of Cutter Gap?"

     "I can see how you've grown to love it here," she replied, gazing 
at the mountains looming behind the house.  "The landscape is 
breathtaking--it makes me feel very alive."

     "That is exactly the effect it has on me." 

     "But, Christy dear, one cannot truly be happy in a place simply 
because of beautiful scenery."  She paused for a moment to collect her 
thoughts.  Mother always liked to plan out every word she was going to 
say; I often wished I had inherited that from her, for I always blurted 
out the first thing that came to mind.

     "Oh, I admit like the mission people very much.  Miss Henderson is 
so elegant and level-headed in her approach to life here, and I admire 
her very much.  Miss Grantland is a first-rate housekeeper and cook, 
too," she continued.  "And I'm quite impressed by the young reverend.  
He is a refined gentleman, and I've noticed he is very attentive to 
you..."  Mother's expression hinted that she would not be at all 
displeased if I told her I had romantic feelings for him.

     "David is very kind, and I'm proud to be *friends* with him."  I 
needed to steer the conversation away from David, or I kew I would end 
up explaining to Mother that he had proposed, and I knew she would never 
understand why I had not accepted.  "What do think of Dr. MacNeill?"

     I really wanted to know, but I hadn't meant to ask her at that 
moment.  I hoped Mother wouldn't think anything of the fact that I had 
so abruptly shifted the topic from David to Neil.

     Mother arched her brows slightly.  "Your father is fascinated by 
him, obviously," she said.  "When I first saw him, I thought he was just 
a typical back woods doctor, but I was very surprised to find how 
intelligent and well-trained he is.  I think he is an interesting 
person, but not nearly as refined as Reverend Grantland."

     That last remark put me on the defensive.  "That's not fair, 
Mother.  David grew up in the city, whereas Neil was raised here.  But 
he's very polite, and I've found that here a white collar and fancy, 
learned manners aren't really all that useful--especially to a Doctor 
who has to perform major surgeries at at any given moment, and on 
kitchen tables, too."

    A smile pulled at the corners of her mouth, but Mother quickly 
restrained it and said, almost apologetically, "I wasn't attempting to 
devalue the Doctor in any way, Christy.  I can't even imagine what it 
must be like for him to practice here, and I do admire him.  But you 
asked for my opinion, and I gave it."

     I decided to let it go.  I believed her, but though she may have 
thought highly of him as a doctor, I felt she wouldn't approve if she 
knew I was in love with a man who didn't measure up to her level of 
refinement.

     "Well, you've been to one of the mountain church services," I said, 
wishing I had been able to attend.  Neil still wouldn't let me out of 
the mission for more than a few minutes to get some fresh air.  There 
were still too many germs lurking around, he said, and a church service 
would be the best place to catch something.  "And Mis Alice took you to 
meet the Allens and the Spencers and the McHones.  What do you think of 
the people?"

     "Church was--" Mother searched for a word.  "*Different*.  Very 
lively, almost raucous at times."

     "It isn't like Asheville, Mother.  I know, it's a little bit 
shocking the first few times.  The people are lively, but they're not 
irreverent.  You see, when they celebrate, it's always energetic, so of 
course the worship services are, too.  They sing to God just as they 
are."

     "Christy," Mother said, "you don't have to be so defensive.  
Believe me, I'm not out to attack everything here, as much as you think 
I'm inclined to.  I said that the mountain worship service was 
different, not wrong.  I think that the Reverend does a wonderful job 
ministering to these people.

     "And to answer your other question, I do like the people.  They are 
gracious and kind, in a simple, honest way.  But they are so poor...and 
they don't seem very intelligent."

     "They're *very* intelligent, Mother," I said, trying not to become 
agitated with her.  It was hard, though, because she said she wasn't 
trying to attack these people, but it certainly seemed that way to me.  
I had to remind myself that Mother was reacting just like I did at 
first, in fact, she was much more gracious than I was.  "They just 
haven't had much education.  But I've never seen harder working students 
than I teach at the school."

     "I don't doubt that, Christy, for that is the way with children."  
Mother's face clouded.  "I haven't been completely honest about my 
feelings.  How can a little education change the way these children are 
brought up?  Their parents are so ignorant, they're starving, and their 
homes are filthy...

     "How do you stand it, Christy?  I've tried to see this place and 
these people objectively, as you and Miss Henderson do, but I just can't 
do it any more.  How can you stand to be here in the midst of such 
poverty and suffering and filth?  You work so hard here, and it's so 
different from what you've always known.  *How do you stand it?*" 

     "I got used to it," came my matter-of-fact reply.  "But it was 
very, very hard.  I couldn't do it myself; I tried--and failed.  Over 
and over I found myself having to face situations I'd never encountered, 
and I just wanted to run home to you and Daddy.  I wanted to be like 
Miss Alice, though, and she showed me that I had to depend on God.  When 
I started holding on to His Presence, I started getting used to the 
mountain people's way of life.  Also, the dirt didn't really seem to 
matter once I saw the joy."

     "Joy?" Mother echoed, trying to take in all I was saying.  "What 
joy could you possibly find in such a place?"

     "It doesn't make sense, I know, Mother, but there were times when 
my soul just cried out to give.  The joy was everywhere then.  It was 
sewing buttons on Mountie O'Teal's tattered jacket; in Isaak McHone's 
eyes when he heard 'Kubla Khan' and learned it by heart that day; in 
holding Little Burl Allen in my lap when I taught him how to read; 
discovering the hidden beauty of the Cove with Fairlight Spencer..."  I 
could have gone on forever.

     Mother looked right into my eyes.  "I still don't understand, 
Christy."

     I pressed her hand.  "You will, Mother.  You *will*."


GEORGE turned out to be a natural hunter, for he had, not long into the 
hunt, tracked a deer and shot it.  He came back to the mission that 
afternoon full of sixteen-year-old pride at his accomplishment.  At 
dinner he talked ceaselessly about the hunt, as if he had spent his 
whole life in the woods shooting deer.

     "It was nothing," he said casually as he told us how it happened.  
"I had the deer in my sight and fired.  It was down before it knew we 
were there."

     "Beginner's luck," said Father, laughing.  "He's never held a rifle 
in his life, and not how he only mentions tracking and shooting that one 
deer.  Later on he fired about five times at one not twenty yards away; 
the deer didn't even know we were there then, either."

    George's face turned red, but he shrugged and said, "Aw, Dad, you're 
just rubbing that in to make yourself feel better."  He addressed the 
rest of us at the table.  "He aimed his gun once and could've had a big 
one, but he lowered it and said, 'It would be a pity to take him down.'"
     Father grinned sheepishly.  "Dr. MacNeill probably won't take any 
more businessmen hunting with him; we city boys aren't very aggressive."

     "Mr. Huddleston is a good sport, though," Neil replied.  "And, 
George, when you killed a deer on your first try, I was so amazed, I 
hardly noticed you missed others.  A little practice, and you'll be the 
best hunter between here and Asheville."

     Neil winked at me across the table, while George basked in his 
praise.

     "I'm not nearly as good as Neil," said George.  "If he hadn't had 
Dad and me to worry about, he could have had every deer in the woods..."
     After the meal, I went out on the porch to think about my earlier 
conversation with Mother.  I stared out the sinking sun, only to hear a 
voice behind me.

     "Hey, Christy, why are you out here by yourself?"

     I turned around and saw the tall, athletic build of my younger 
brother.

     "You startled me," I said.  "I was just thinking."
     "About who?  The Doctor?"

     I grinned.  "The other day you seemed to think I had feelings for 
Reverend Grantland."

     "Well, I admit, at first I thought it was David because of the way 
you talked when Mom and Dad and I got here.  But then I watched you with 
Neil, and it's so obvious, Christy."

     I blushed, and he added, "Don't worry, Christy.  I won't tell, 
although someone would have to be blind not to see there's something 
between you two."

     We talked for a few more minutes; actually, George did most of the 
talking, and he raved about Neil.  Obviously, he had a new idol.  I 
remained on the porch after he had gone inside.  

     "If only Mother would feel the way about Cutter Gap as Father and 
George do," I said aloud with a sigh.

     "How do they feel about it?"  Neil had come out quietly and stood 
next to me.

     "You're always so perceptive, Doctor; surely you can see that 
they're both in awe of you," I teased him.  "George hasn't stopped 
talking about you since he heard your story the other night."

     Neil smiled.  "Well, I like him, too, and I enjoy your father's 
company."  He became serious.  "But what about your mother?"

     I told him about our talk, and he said, I think she'll come around, 
Christy.  How could she not when your father is so enthusiastic about 
everything here?"

     "It would be *very* difficult, even for Mother, who stands firm on 
her own opinion."  Then I added, with determination, "Anyway, this where 
I belong, and Mother will just have to get used to that."

     With a hearty laugh, Neil put his arm around me.  "That's my 
Christy!"  
 **********************************************************************
   

Chapter:  Six
Summary:  An important discovery is made by Christy's mother before she 
returns to Asheville.

**********************************************************************
"The Joy of the Children", Chapter Six:

MY FAMILY had been in Cutter Gap for a week, and it was their last 
night.  Mother was still torn about my staying; her mind was definitely 
made up that she did *not* like the Cove.

     "Won't you come home for a while, Christy?  It's nearly Christmas, 
and you haven't seen your relatives and friends in so long.  And it 
would be a good place for you to recuperate..."

     "Mother," I said, looking up from my lesson plans, "You know I'm 
going back to school tomorrow.  Besides, I've *been* recuperating--for 
nearly three weeks now."

     "It would just be for a little while, dear," Mother insisted.

     "I agreed to teach here, and I need to stay.  I *want* to stay, 
Mother."

     "How long, Christy?" she implored.  "How long are you going to do 
this?  How long are you going to sacrifice everything your father and I 
have given you?  When I you going to come back to the life you were born 
to live?"

     "This *is* the life I was born to live!"

     "Nonsense!" Mother spat.  "Christy, you can't possibly think you're 
going to stay and teach this school forever!"

     "Why not?" I demanded.

     "It's no life for a young lady like you!  To be stuck in such a 
place with so many people so beneath you!  You'll never find a suitable 
husband!"  She fumed for a minute, then added, "I wouldn't be *quite* so 
upset if you'd pay a little more attention to the Reverend--he's very 
taken with you, and he likely won't stay here forever, especially if he 
had a wife.  But you seem to ignore his attentions.  Christy," she 
begged.  "Please, *please* consider that there is no life for you in 
this!  Think about yourself!"  

     I was trying very hard to stay calm.  "Oh, God, give me the words," 
I prayed silently.  "Tell me what to say to her."

     "If I think about myself, Mother, I will certainly see things your 
way.  But I *can't* think about me; I can only think about the needs of 
the people here and what God wants for my life.  God has brought me to 
Cutter Gap to *give*, and when I give, when I know I am obeying the 
Lord, I am more fulfilled than I ever was in Asheville.

     "I'm not saying that I'm ungrateful for all you and Father have 
done for me; I lvoe you both very much, and you gave me the happiest 
childhood I could have had.  Every parent wants their child to be happy 
and safe and cared for, Mother, and you may not see that I could have 
any of those things here, but don't you see that *God* is taking care of 
me?  All the people you have met, this mission and all its facilities 
are proof of that.  My recovery from typhoid is proof of that.  Please, 
try to see, Mother."

     With a stricken look, Mother left my room.


AFTER BREAKFAST the next morning, I said goodbye to my parents, for they 
were to leave for El Pano later that morning, when I would be in school.

     "It's been very good to see you, Girlie," said my father, 
enveloping me in a great hug.  "I'm very proud of how you've made your 
way here.  I hope the school term goes well."

     "Thank you, Daddy.  I'll miss you a lot, and I'll write you every 
week."

     After George and I said our goodbyes, I turned ot Mother.  She 
hardly seemed to hear my words and offered me only a mecahnical kiss and 
farewell.  I felt horribly, for I badly wanted her to aprrove of my 
decisions as my Father did.

     "Well, I'm off to school.  I love you all!  Have a safe trip!"
     
     As soon as I stepped into the schoolroom, I was greeted by 
sixty-seven shining faces popping out from behind the desks, where they 
had been crouching.   "Welcome back, Teacher!"

     They had decorated the room with leaves and late-autumn 
wildflowers.  Suddenly they had all gathered around me.

     "We shorlely missed, ye, Miz Christy."

     "We thawt ye was a-never goin' t' cum back."

     "Preacher hoped us git all them thar wildflowers so's th' room'ud 
look perty fer ye."

     My eyes swam with tears of joy.  "If only Mother could see the 
children right now, then she would understand," I thought.

     Then, as I turned to look at one of the children behind me, I saw 
her--Mother--standing in the doorway.  Mountie O'Teale went over to her 
with a bunch of flowers.

     "Yer Teacher's momma, ain't ye?  Yer real perty, like Teacher.  
I'll bet yer th' nicest lady in th' world."

     "Why do you say that?"  Mother asked her.

     "'Cause yer Miz Christy's momma."  Mountie handed the flowers to 
Mother, who bend down and kissed the little girl.  She flashed be a 
beautifl smile, nodded, and walked outside.

     "Take your seats, children; I'll be back in a moment," I said, 
following her.

     "Mother!   Wait, Mother!"  I ran out to her, and she caught me in 
an embrace.  She was crying.

     "Oh, Christy, I see it now!  I see the joy!  I'm so sorry I said 
all those horrible things to you last night.  Please forgive me, 
darling!"

     "Of course I figive you!  Oh, Mother, now do you see why I have to 
stay here?"

     "Yes, I do.  I thought--and prayed--about it all last night.  I 
asked God to show me what He seemed to have shown you, and He did!"

     David pulled up in the school yard in the wagon.  

     "It's time to go, dear," Father called out to Mother.  "Are you 
ready?"

     Mother hugged me one last time.  "Goodbye, Christy.  I'll write you 
as soon as I get to Asheville!"  She ran to the wagon and George helped 
her in.  As they drove away, she turned back to me, waving and smiling.  
"I love you, Christy!"


IN THE ELEVEN MONTHS since I had come to Cutter Gap, I had never had a 
more wonderful day at school than that first one after I had typhoid.  I 
believe I waseven more excited that I was back than the children were!  

     The morning singing lasted nearly an hour, because I let the 
children pick all their favorite songs (so many, with their endless 
refrains!).  I would have been content to sing the day away, had Little 
Burl not piped, his wide blue eyes staring at me inquisitively, "Teacher 
we likes to sing'n all, but why's we been singing so long for?  Ain't 
we's got lessuns t' do?"

     I laughed.  "Thank you, Little Burl!  Teacher has been very silly 
today, but it's because I've missed you all *so much!*  But yes, we 
*do* have lessons to do!"

     The morning few by as we plunged into reading and grammar, and 
suddenly it was the "dinner spell".  It began to snow during recess, and 
of course I let the children stay out extra long to frolic in the first 
flurry of the season.  THey got up a wild game of "tag", and Zacharias 
Holt ran up to me, touched my arm, and said, with an impish grin, "Yer 
'it', Teacher," and ran away.

     I tore after him, much to his surprise.  I tagged Orter Ball 
O'Teale instead, and then he chased me down.  We continued this way, a 
student catching me, me catching another studend, who in turn tagged me 
again, sometimes a sweries of children in between.  Whle we were running 
about the schoolyard, I noticed Neil had ridden up and was watching me 
intently.  

     "Hello!"  I called to him, waving wildly.  "Come join us!"

     As the Doctor dismounted his horse, laughing, he said, "I almost 
mistook you for one of the children, Miss Huddleston; you're about the 
same size as most of them!  But I didn't know you enjoyed recess so 
much."

     I blushed and felt absolutely ridiculous.  My hair was falling in 
my face; I brushed it away and tried ot smooth out my rumpled dress.  
"What must Neil think of me?" I thought.  

     "I guess I'm getting a little carried away.  It's just that I'm so 
happy to be back, Neil!  I love teaching!"

     "Oh, this is how you teach?  Some new method you've devised or read 
about in that Danish book?" he quipped.

     I knew he was only teasing but I felt so immature.  "Great 
impression you're making, Christy," I thought.  "I'm sure Neil is very 
interested in twenty-year-old schoolteachers who behave like their 
pupils."

     "I'm not making fun, Christy," he said, sensing my embarrassment.  
"I think it's great how you interact with the children."  Instead of 
raillery, his expression was one of approval.  "I really admire your 
enthusiasm--and *you*."

     Our gazes locked, and I felt my heart swell.  Suddenly I became 
very aware that I was being watched.

     *The children!*  They had stopped playing and their full attention 
was on Neil and me.  The little ones didn't know what was going on, but 
I knew the older ones did--especially the girls; I heard giggles and 
whispers and knew tongues would wag.

     "Well," Neil said, grinning sheepishly at me.  "I have to be off 
now.  All of you have fun in the snow, and mind Miss Huddleston.  And 
don't wear her out."

     Someone said, "She be wearin' *us* out, Doc."

     "Aw, she ain't, niether," Creed Allen spoke up.  "You fixed her up 
right fine, Doc.  She got more blaze in her than a fire--been runnin' 
'round here like coons when they's 'bout t' git treed by a hound.  Miz 
Christy let us sing well nigh an hour this morning', and she's plum 
forgit 'bout spellin' t'day.  Schoolin' like this be rightly agreeifyin' 
w' me."

     "Oh, Creed, you're right," I said in my best teacher voice.  "I did 
forget about spelling.  Thank you so much for reminding me.  We'll go do 
it right now."

     A groan went up from my students.  "Now you done it, Creed," said 
Zacharias, slugging his friend playfully.  "Teacher won't be no fun no 
more.   Hit's all spellin' an' po'try an' lessun from here on out."

     Poor Creed was chided by all the boys , but he didn't seem to mind 
too much.  After all, he had Teacher's approval.  "I's glad I re-minded 
Teacher; if'n I hadn't, she might have forgit forever, and all us 
young'uns wouldn't be gettin' our proper edycashun, would we, Miz 
Christy?"  

     "Maybe not, Creed.  I was being very silly today.  Maybe I would 
have had so much fun playing with you I would have decided never to do 
lessons.  Now I won't, thanks to you," I said seriously.

     "Play all th' time'n no lessuns?!"  Creed was shocked.  "Me'n my 
big mouth!"

     "I'm just teasing, Creed,"I assured him, laughing.  "I would have 
remembered.  Now, everybody inside!"

     The children complied, and Neil commented, "I hope they'll be quiet 
enough for you to teach spelling."

     "If they're not, it's my fault for getting them so worked up at 
recess."

     "They love you for it, Christy," he said.  "But you had better get 
in there; you noticed how attentive the children were a few minutes ago, 
and we're alone now.  No telling what story those girls will start 
around the Cove.  In fact," he said, glancing over my head, "they're 
watching us right now."

     I whilred around.  Clara and Zady Spencer, Lizette Holcombe, and 
Bessie Coburn (who was looking much better since Neil scolded her father 
into letting her rest) were peeking out the doorway.

     "Girls," I called.  "Go inside!"

     "They want to be alone!"  Lizette squealed, and all of them giggled 
as they went inside.

     "I'm going now, Miss Huddleston, before you get into trouble!"  
Neil laughed and mounted Charlie.  "We'll talk another time, when there 
aren't children spying on us."

     "Will you be at church on Sunday?" I asked.

     "Aye," Neil replied with a nod.  "Do you think the congregation 
will be shocked when I walk through those doors for the first time?"

     I smiled and he continued, "The women of the Cove will have a lot 
to chew on, Christy, when the girls tell them we talked alone and when I 
go to church.  But I'd *really* best be off now; the smallest O'Teale 
girl's had a bad cough, I hear.  Have a good afternoon, Teacher!"

     As I walked down the aisle ot the front of the schoolroom, titters 
of laughter spread from girl to girl.  I tried to ignore the giggling 
and started writing the week's spelling words on the blackboard.   

     "Miz Christy?" asked Clara.

     "Yes, Clara?"

     "We's jest wond'rin', did Doc MacNeill come a-courtin' jest then, 
Teacher?"

     I was mortified, and I felt my face grow red and hot.  "Of course 
not!  The Doctor and I are friends--" I was interrupted by more laughter 
and knowing glances from my older pupils, boys included.  

"--Dr. MacNeill was on his way to see some patients, and he just 
happened to stop by to see how I was doing--to make sure I was feeling 
all right on my first day back at school."

     "Lookit her blushin' red as a rose!"  Lizette squealed to Bessie.  
"She be sweet on Doc!"

     "Hesh up, Lizette," Sam Houston sanapped from across the room.  
"We's don't want t' be hearin' no carryin' on 'bout no courtin'.  
'Sides, Miz Christy doesn't a-low no courtin' durin' school.  Ain't that 
right, Teacher?"

     "Yes, Sam Houston," I sighed, grateful for his remark.  But Lizette 
was not to be so easily dissuaded.

     "I heared my momma say that Doc cum t' th' mission ev'ry day t' see 
ye when ye was a-gettin' well.  That shorely sounds like courtin' t' 
me."

     "Shorely does," echoed Bessie.

     "Enough, girls," I reprimanded them.  "Yes, Dr. MacNeill came to 
see me, but I was his patient; he had to make sure I was recovering 
properly."

     "He was never at no one else's place so long as he was with ye, 
Teacher," Lizette persisted.

     At my wits' end, I decided to just ignore Lizette and begin 
teaching.  I prayed we would make it through the arithmetic hour without 
any more questions regarding my relationship with the good Doctor.  I 
had to admit, though, that the incident *was* rather funny, and I knew 
Neil and I would have a good laugh over it when I told him.  But I 
realized I would have to be very careful how I actled around the 
children; I was their example, and I had seen from Ruby Mae's young 
marriage these children didn't need any encouragement about courting.  

     Fortunately, the subject was not brought up again, but several 
times during the remainder of the day, Lizette and Bessie would whisper, 
look at me, and giggle.  And it took all my willpower not to giggle 
along with them.
********************************************************************

Chapter:  Seven
Summary:  Christy makes a new friend.  (That sounds so corny, but I hate 
summaries, because they give away the story.)

*******************************************************************

"The Joy of the Children" Chapter Seven 

I THOUGHT I had met everyone in Cutter Gap, but when Neil  rode into the 
churchyard the following Sunday with an older lady behind him, I 
discovered otherwise.

        “Miss Huddleston,” he said, approaching me, the lady holding onto his 
arm.  “I don’t believe you’ve met my Aunt, Hattie McHabe.”

        “I’m very pleased to meet  you, ma’am,” I said, holding out my hand to 
her.  Strangely, she did not shake it,  as if she did not see it; but 
Neil took her hand an placed it in mine, and she smiled and squeezed it 
tightly. 

         “You kin call me Hattie,” she said sweetly, and I noticed her drawl 
was much softer than many of the mountain people’s.  “I’ve wanted to 
come to meetin’ and to see you somethin’ fierce, but I been laid up at 
home for a while now---been sickly since last winter.  My nephew’s told 
me all about you, and if you’re half as nice as he makes you sound, I 
think we’ll git along real well. Might as well say that though I’m blind 
and can’t see you, I know what you look like; jest wish I could see them 
big, beautiful blue eyes he talked about.”

        I looked at Neil questioningly, and he colored a little bit and grinned 
sheepishly at me.  “She asked me to describe you.”  

        I smiled and asked Miss Hattie if she would like to sit with me during 
the service.  

        “I would,” came her gentle reply.  “Yer mighty kind, Miss . . . May I 
call you by yer front name?  It’s such a sweet ’n’ friendly name, I’d 
like to use it---if’n you don’t object.”

          Already I liked Neil’s aunt.  She was several inches taller than me 
and very slender.  Her face was fresh and had very few wrinkles, and her 
eyes were deep grey-blue.  I could not see her hair, for she was bundled 
up in a dark blue hooded cloak.  Something about her seemed so peaceful 
and content and warm, and though I had just met her, I found myself  
aching to know her better.

        The three of us went inside together, and after he had helped his aunt 
to sit, Neil stepped across the aisle to the men’s side of the church.  
Just as he had guessed, the faces of those who were also coming in 
registered shock at seeing him there.  Jeb Spencer came in and clapped 
him on the back.  “Glad to see, ye, Neil.  Mind if me ’n’ my boys sits 
here next to ye?”  

        I could see how encouraging this was to Neil.  He had told me that he 
and Jeb were best friends when they were boys, but when he had come back 
from medical school, their relationship had never been quite the same.  
Jeb seemed to be reinitiating their friendship, and Neil was delighted.

        Shortly, the service began.  As we sang the hymns, I found that Miss 
Hattie was a wonderful singer.  She never stopped smiling, and I noticed 
that though she was blind, her eyes saw something beautiful which was 
reflected in them.  

        “You have a lovely voice,” I whispered to her after David instructed us 
to sit. 

        “Ain’t nothin’ that pleases me so well as singing t’ Jesus,” she 
replied.

        After church, I stood with Neil and his Aunt in the yard.  

        “Stay and have dinner with us at the mission house,” I urged.

        Neil wavered. “Hattie might be needing to get home . . .”

        “I’ve been at home fer a long time, Neil,” she argued gently.  
“Christy’s been real friendly in askin’ us t’ stay, and I’d like to git 
t’ knowin’ her better.”

        “Well, then, we accept your kind invitation, Miss Huddleston,” Neil 
grinned.  “But are you sure it’s all right?  Ida won’t mind?”

        “We’d love to have you.”

        After lunch Miss Hattie and I went for a walk outside the mission.  

        “Have you lived in Cutter Gap all your life?” I asked her.  It was a 
silly question, but there was something about her that was so different 
than any of the other people I knew here.

        “Shorely,” she replied.  “I was born in that cabin where Neil lives.  
His daddy was my big brother.  I live nigh the Pinnacles now; moved thar 
when I was married.”

        “Do you have any other family besides Neil?”

        “All took typhoid and died  years ago,” she said sadly.  “Lost my 
husband and young’uns all together.”

        I felt a stab of pity for her.  Surely she didn’t live out in these 
mountains all alone---and blind, too!  With a perception not unlike her 
nephew’s, she added, her face aglow. “I’m not alone, Christy; Jesus is 
with me.”

        That was what it was!  That something different I had seen in Miss 
Hattie was her pure faith in Jesus!  She seemed so peaceful and joyful, 
and it was because she had a deep, intimate relationship with Him!

        “I’ve got lots of friends, too, and Neil is always lookin’ in on me.  
Real good man he is.  Like his daddy.  You don’t know how happy I was 
when he told me he found th’ Lord, Christy.  He’d been hurtin’ fer a 
long time, though he’d never talk about it t’ no one; I could see him 
hurtin’.  It was his wife that hurt him so bad.  Do you know ’bout her?”

        “Yes,” I said.  “Neil was very sad when she died.”

        “He was sad afore she died,” Miss Hattie replied, much to my surprise.  
“I hadn’t lost my sight then, and I watched.  Oh, Miz Margaret was right 
beautiful, but she didn’t look at Neil like wives look at their 
husbands.  Neil knew it, too, and it hurt him somethin’ terrible.  He 
tried t’ make her happy, but she wouldn’t have nothin’ o’ the Cove.  He 
loved her, but she wouldn’t always love him back.  ’Twas hard fer him.”  

        She lowered her voice.  “I think it was a mercy she died, Christy.  
Neil was hurtin’ so bad that she didn’t love him, and they would have 
been miserable unhappy for th’ rest o’ their lives.  He wanted that baby 
real bad, too, though she didn’t.  Oh, I’m sayin’ too much bad against 
her.  I think she loved Neil sometimes.”  She sighed.  “Not too often, 
though, and not like he needed.”

        I had never heard the story from this perspective before.  From what 
Miss Alice had told me, I had assumed that Margaret and Neil had both 
been in love.  Of course, Miss Alice had not been near Margaret when she 
had courted Neil, and she had not often seen her daughter and son-in-law 
during their marriage.  Not that I now disregarded her story; Miss 
Hattie’s just made me see it in a different light.  

        As I thought about it some more, I recalled that Miss Alice had said 
Margaret didn’t want to marry someone of whom her family would approve,  
and also that she had felt that Neil was inferior.  What could that have 
meant?  I was confused now.  Would I ever really know what Neil’s wife 
had been like?  And did he love me because I reminded him of her?  Did 
he see me as a replacement?

        “My nephew’s a different person, now,” Miss Hattie continued.  “Speaks 
to me ’bout God and things he’s read in the Bible.  Becoming a 
Christian’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him.  It was hard 
when he didn’t believe, Christy; he had all his own answers.  Now he’s 
always goin’ to the Book fer answers.  Ain’t it a wonder how Jesus 
changes people?  Jest like the song.”

        Miss Hattie sang “Amazing Grace.”  I had never heard it sung more 
beautifully or from the heart.  “That’s my  favorite song.  Jest loved 
it since I was a little girl.”  

        We talked for a long time, and I felt as though I had known Neil’s aunt 
my entire life.  Already she was an intimate friend.  Miss Alice and 
Neil came out and met us in the yard.  

        “You two must have really hit it off,” Neil said with a smile, “to have 
stayed out talking in the cold for so long.  Didn’t I tell you Christy 
was nice, Hattie?”

        “Right glad to know her,” Miss Hattie answered.  “I hate t’ leave here; 
it’s been a fine day, and I haven’t talked much to Miss Alice.”

        “Why don’t thee come in and have a hot cup of tea, Miss Hattie?” Miss 
Alice suggested.  “It would warm you up before you and Neil ride back to 
your cabin, and we could visit.”

        “I’d like that.”  

        As the two women walked back to the mission house, Neil asked, “So what 
do you think of my Aunt?”

        “She’s delightful!” I cried, as we began to walk towards the edge of 
the mission property.  “So sweet, yet so strong---such a godly woman!”

        “That she is.  I’m glad you like her; she gets lonely sometimes, though 
she never complains.  You’re just the person to suit her.”

        “You seem to be very close to her,” I observed.

        “Aye.  We’re all that’s left of the MacNeill clan in Cutter Gap.  I 
admit that our relationship is even closer  lately---since I accepted 
the Lord.  She’s really encouraged me to read my Bible.”

        “Oh!” I said.  “She can’t read it for herself since she’s blind!”  

        “She read it so many times before she lost her sight, Christy,” Neil 
said with a grin, “she nearly has it memorized.  But the last couple 
times I’ve been to see her, I’ve read to her.  I think she’d like it if 
you could visit her, though.”

        “I will,” I said.  “How did she lose her sight?”

        “Trachoma,” Neil replied.  “She’d been fighting it for a while but 
didn’t go blind till about four years ago.  It happened right on top of 
the typhoid epidemic that took her husband, her children, and her two 
infant grandchildren.  I wasn’t able to understand how she could have 
such a firm belief in God with all that happened to her; I had firmly 
settled inside myself that if there was a God, which I doubted, He 
couldn’t possibly be good and loving, or He wouldn’t have let such 
misery come to someone like Aunt Hattie.  Of course, I was also angry 
over Margaret’s death at the same time.”

        “I have never heard you speak about your wife before,” I said, “except 
when I wore her dress that day.”

        Neil nodded.  “You’re right.  But I’m sure Alice has told you all about 
it.”  

        “Miss Alice and Miss Hattie have both told me about her, though I’m not 
sure what to make of it.” 
                      
    “Well, it wasn’t romantic, whatever you may think.”

        “I must admit that I have thought it romantic---in a tragic sense, but 
something Miss Hattie said has caused me to wonder.  Neil, were you and 
Margaret---happy?

        A reluctant look came into Neil’s eyes as he answered, “We were both 
young and rebellious, and we had no business getting married.  Margaret  
was intelligent, beautiful, and she had a mind and will of her own; she 
was going to live her life the way she wanted to, free from everybody 
else’s rules.  I was going to be a physician in the back woods were I 
had grown up---definitely not the place for a woman like Margaret..  
There was no glamour, no artistry, no intellect here to suit her taste.  
She was miserable from the day I brought her to Cutter Gap.  I had to be 
away so often, and she grew lonely and irritable.  We often quarreled.  
We did have some happy moments, but I don’t think I can say that overall 
our marriage was a happy one.”

        I didn’t know what to say.

        “It wasn’t meant to be, Christy,” he continued.  “I just wish I had 
seen that from the beginning.”  Neil stopped walking and looked me 
straight in the eye.  “You’ve thought about her a lot, haven’t you?  

Why?  Why are you so curious about Margaret?”

        “Well,” I began, feeling uneasy.  “Partly because when we know what our 
friends have gone through, we understand them better . . .”

        “So you’re saying you don’t understand me?” 

        “No, that’s not what I meant.”  I sat down on a log that lay in the 
field.  “I just . . . I’m sorry.  It’s none of my business.”  How am I 
ever going to know what he feels about Margaret---and me---if he doesn’t 
want to talk about it?  Clearly, he wants to avoid the subject as much 
as possible.

        “I’m not angry with you for asking, Christy,” he replied softly, 
sitting down next to me.  “As my most dearest and most trusted friend, 
you have the right to know about my past, and it is not fair---or 
right---for me to hide anything from you.  I just feel that there’s 
something behind your questions---something you want to know but won’t 
come right out and ask.”

        As always, Neil MacNeill had seen right through me, and I felt so 
childish and stupid.  I looked down at my feet, but Neil lifted my chin 
so my eyes met his.

        “You can ask me---don’t be afraid.”

        I mustered up all my courage.  “Do I remind you of Margaret?” 

        “You?  Remind me of Margaret?” he seemed shocked.  “What would make you 
ask such a question?”

        “Miss Alice said she saw her daughter in me.  I wondered if you...”

        “Saw you as a replacement?”  Neil finished for me, an expression of 
utmost compassion on his face.  He drew me to him and kissed my hair.  
“Now I understand why you wanted to know about her.  Sometimes, Christy, 
Alice sees what she wants to see in people.  Or maybe she sees in you 
what Margaret might have been.  Still, I would not say that you remind 
me of her.  You resemble her a little; I did notice that.  She had a 
fire like you, but it was born of rebellion; she never possessed your 
compassion or joy or maturity. 

        “She never, never respected me like you do, but I was so infatuated 
with her, I was blind to that until after we were married.  She had 
often boasted about her rebellion against Alice and how she wanted to 
have nothing to do with her.  I  saw her rebellion only as the result of 
her free spirit, and it never dawned on me that Margaret might see me as 
a way to run away from home or that she might hope her mother would 
disown her for marrying a man like me.   In fact, she saw me as the same 
kind of inferior human she really thought herself to be; that, I 
discovered in one of our many quarrels---during her pregnancy, I think 
it was.  I believe she said, ‘The world has enough problems without a 
hillbilly and  a bastard child bringing their own miserable offspring 
into it.’ ”

        How humiliated he must have been!  I was so angry that a woman could 
have treated Neil with such disregard for his worth.  

        “Eventually Margaret grew so distant from me, there was nothing I could 
do to win back her affections.  Our last few months together were 
miserable, and when she lay dying from typhoid and premature childbirth, 
she could not---would not---fight for her life.”

         How much Neil had suffered because of Margaret!  How had he been able 
to endure her selfishness, her hatefulness?  My heart ached for him.  

“I’m so sorry, Neil,” I whispered, on the verge of tears.

        “Margaret was just as hurt by me as . . . as I was by her.” 

        “Don’t blame yourself, Neil,” I said.

        “For nearly four years I blamed God, and even then I could not  deny 
that I made a lot of mistakes which ultimately hurt Margaret.  But you 
know what, Christy?  It doesn’t hurt like it used to.  Do you know why?”

        “Why?”

        “God,” he said matter-of-factly, and I understood exactly what he 
meant.  “When I gave Him my life, he gave me  peace inside.  He told me 
that the time for guilt and mourning was past and now it was time to 
live again---in Him.  But there is another reason, too.”

        Neil took my hands and looked deeply into my eyes.  “About a year ago 
God sent a young schoolteacher with dreams and visions to Cutter Gap.  
We butted heads in the beginning, but I could not help but admire her in 
spite of myself.  She respected me and believed in me, and she has 
opened up all the places of my heart I had locked away.  She has been my 
dearest friend, and now I’m hopelessly in love with her.”  He leaned 
forward and kissed my lips gently.  “You must never, never think that 
you are only a replacement, Christy.  I love you, as I have never loved 
before.”

        I was so happy I was about to burst.  Neil loved me!  I realized that 
deep down I had always known that, but it was so meaningful to hear it 
from his own lips.  He loved me---Christy Rudd Huddleston!  I threw my 
arms around his neck and cried, “I love you, too, Neil!”


THAT EVENING, I was downstairs, working on some lesson plans, when I 
heard Ben Pentland’s loud drawl outside.

        “Hallo!  U-nited Sates Ma-il!!!”  

        Miss Ida opened the front door, and he came in.  “Evenin’.  Got a 
letter for Miz Christy---cum Ashe-ville way.”  

        I took the letter from him and smiled obligingly.  “Thank you, Mr. 
Pentland!  I’ve been expecting a letter from my mother.  Would you like 
some coffee to warm you up before you go back out in the cold?”

        “Reckon I would,” he said, seating himself. 

        David came in and joined us. “Hello, Ben.  Kind of late to be 
delivering mail, isn’t it?”

        “Aw, not much.  Jest got a late start this mornin’ and stopped at th’ 
Spencers’.”  He eyed me curiously.                      “Is there something you wanted to 
ask, Mr. Pentland?”

        “Well, yes, I reckon thar is.  Word’s goin’ ’round that Doc MacNeill 
’tended meetin’ this mornin’.”

        “Yes,” I replied.  “He did.”

        “He never took no stock in religion afore,” the mailman commented, 
wide-eyed. 

        “The Doctor has become a Christian,” David replied.  

        Mr.  Pentland nodded.  “Wall, guess thar’s somethin’ in that.”  Then he 
added, slyly, “Jeb’s girls say Doc’s been courtin’ Teacher.  That be 
true?”

        “Do you believe all the stories little girls tell you?” I asked, taking 
his empty coffee cup and walking toward the kitchen to conceal my 
blushes.

        “S’pose it ain’t none of my business,” he said, rising and walking to 
the door.  He winked at me as he exited.

        “The gossip people start,” I laughed, going back into the living room.  
“Your sermon was good this morning, David.  I would have said something 
earlier, but I haven’t had the chance.”

        “Well, I wanted to talk to you, but I also didn’t want to interrupt 
your conversation with Miss Hattie,” David replied casually.

        “I enjoyed getting to know her.  Did you and Neil talk?”

        David replied teasingly, “He’s certainly the man of the hour.”  Then he 
added, seriously, “We did talk---as long as you and Hattie did.  He’s 
certainly a changed man.  I’m ashamed to think that I had given up on 
him.”

        I smiled.  “I’m glad you two are becoming friends---he needs strong 
Christian friends.”

        “You seem to be fulfilling that need very well,”  he bantered.

        “You know what I mean, David,” I said, blushing.  I opened the letter 
from my mother.
        
Dear Christy,
        I’m sorry for not writing you sooner, but I was afraid I would not 
rightly express myself, so I waited until I had just the right words.
I suppose I should just start from the beginning.  When you first left 
Asheville to teach in Cutter Gap, I was disappointed and even a bit 
angry, though I tried not to show it.  I did not see anything other than 
that my only daughter was giving up virtually everything to find 
spiritual fulfillment.  My only way of coping with that was to compare 
you with the great missionaries I have always heard and read about and 
the same sacrifices they had made.  I would boast to mylady friends 
about my wonderfully mature daughter who was seeking to serve the least 
of God’s people no matter what the cost and how she was fulfilled by it.  
How pathetic that I myself didnot truly believe my own words!

        When we came to see you,  I fully intended for you to return with us.  
Surely, I reasoned, near death from typhoid fever would convince you to 
come back to the civilized world.  I thoughtthat even if you were 
reluctant, I could still force you to come home since I am your mother.  
Either way, so I thought, I would win.  Little did I know I would not be 
fighting my daughter,but God instead!

        You know the rest of the story, Christy.  I finally understood the joy 
you spoke of so often and the joy I had seen in your countenance during 
our fortnight with you when I watched you with the children---those 
blessed, blessed children!  That Mountie O’ Teale!  Now I know why sheis 
so special  to you!What joy I receive in telling you how glad I am that 
you have chosen to follow God’s path!As much as I miss you and want to 
give you more in the material sense, I am happy that you aredoing the 
right thing and that God gives you peace in joy because of your 
obedience!  Let me add,however, as I must, as a mother, I would be even 
more at ease knowing that you were married to a good, loving man who 
would take special care of my daughter!  I’m just teasing, love!  Don’t 
feel pressured by a mother’s wishes!  And though I hinted about the 
minister, I think maybe you’re a little more taken with a certain doctor 
. . . Mothers don’t miss a thing, Christy!  But I like your Dr. 
MacNeill, and so does your father.

        Before I close, Christy, I want to leave you with a Scripture the Lord 
showed me, Hebrews 12: 2:  “Looking unto Jesus, the Author and Perfecter 
of our faith; who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, 
despising its shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of 
God.”   
              
        “For the joy set before Him”---I just love that part!  You have lived 
that out Christy!  Just remember that, dear, as you go from day to day 
in Cutter Gap.  I know you do have struggles there, no matter how well 
you endure them.   But you have found joy in the children, and in God!
 
        The rest of the letter consisted of brief news about George, my father, 
and Asheville life.  I finished it, and greatly encouraged by Mother’s 
words, I folded the letter and tucked it into my Bible.  Then I heard 
that voice that I loved so well, the one that called to my soul:   Fix 
your eyes on Me and the joy I have for you!  See how I have taken care 
of everything when you have obeyed Me and trusted My wisdom?  

        Oh, yes, Lord!  I thought.  How wonderful are Your ways and Your works!  
You are wonderful, God!
*********************

Chapter:  Eight
Summary:  A lost sheep is found.

*********************

"The Joy of the Children", Chapter Eight:

ONE AFTERNOON  about a week before Christmas, David and I were in the 
schoolroom, sorting through crates of beautiful new books, sent by 
Father as a Christmas gift to the children, when a very pale and 
dazed-looking Opal McHone stumbled up the schoolhouse steps and stopped 
in the doorway.   

        Instantly I was at her side.  “Opal!  What’s wrong?”

        “Oh, Miz Christy,one o’ them law-men was jest at my place---give me 
this here slip o’ paper and said I needed ’t be in Lyleton this comin’ 
Tuesday.  I couldn’t quite make hit out what with all them fancy words, 
but I gather hit’s somethin’ ’bout Bird’s Eye Taylor.”

        I took the paper from her, and as I examined it, David read over my 
shoulder.  “Dear God,” I whispered, clapping my hand over my mouth.  
“David, he’s turned himself in---true to his word.”

        Opal’s brown eyes were wide.  “Turned hisself in!  I was afeared he’d 
do that---I telled him not to, that he didn’t have t’ go to jail jest 
'cause his boy killed Tom, but he don’t pay me no mind.  But why’d them 
marshals send word t’ me?”

        “Bird’s Eye has to undergo a trial, and since it was your husband he’s 
confessed to killing,” David said with a deep breath, “you have to go 
testify---tell them what you know about what happened.”

        Apparently Opal still did not completely understand, so David went on.  
“You are the closest person to the situation.  They can’t convict Bird’s 
Eye of killing Tom unless someone who can prove him either guilty or 
innocent speaks in court.”

        “I didn’t see what happened, though.  No one did.  But I know Bird’s 
Eye didn’t do it, and it’s wrong for him t’ be locked up.  Kin I go to 
this court and tell them marshals that?  Will they jest believe me if’n 
I says his boy did it?”  Opal looked to me imploringly, and I to David, 
who knew much more about the judicial system than I did.

        “You can tell them you don’t wish to press charges against Bird’s Eye.”
        “That’ll be what I do, then.  Bird’s Eye ain’t goin’ t’ be locked away 
if’n I kin holp it.  Not when he ain’t done nothin’ wrong.”

        “I know he’s innocent, too, Opal---in the killing that is,” David said.   
“But what about before Tom died?  Bird’s Eye was involved with the 
moonshiners who were hunting Tom before he was killed.  He can still 
be---should be---tried for that.”

        Opal shook her head fervently and said with more strength than I had 
ever known her to possess, “No.  I telled Bird’s Eye I had forgive him, 
and it jest wouldn’t be right for me t’ ‘press charges’ or whatever that 
was ye called hit. ’Twouldn’t be forgivin’ if’n I jest half-way did hit 
now, would hit?   How will Bird’s Eye ever have a chance t’ be a good 
man if’n none o’ us who has faith in God’ll stand up fer him?”

        I smiled.  This was the biggest demonstration of forgiveness---and 
courage---I had witnessed.  “Opal,” I said, embracing the woman.  
“Choosing to forgive someone who has had a hand in doing great harm to 
us is one of the most difficult things for people to do.  I just want 
you to know that though not everyone will understand your choice, God 
does, and you are honoring and obeying Him by forgiving Bird’s Eye.  I 
believe that He is using you to change people’s hearts in Cutter Gap.”

        “Oh, Miz Christy,” Opal sighed.  “I been prayin’ fer Bird’s Eye.  D’ ye 
think maybe he might---might turn from his sinnin’ ways?  Jest ’cause I 
forgive him? ’Twould be the blessedest thing.”

        “Nothing is more possible,” I said, embracing her again.  

        “Opal,” David said, clearing his throat, “I understand your feelings, 
and I agree that you can’t just forgive Bird’s Eye for some of the 
wrongs he’s done you and your family, but the law is the law, and he 
broke it.”

        The two pairs of brown eyes met, David’s torn over what was right and 
what was just, Opal’s strong and sure about what she knew she must do.  
David knew he could not fight anymore.  “Tell you what, Opal.  Come to 
the mission house tonight, and we’ll talk about this with Miss Alice.  
She’ll know what to do.”

        Slowly, Opal nodded.  “Shorely, Preacher.”  She walked to the door, and 
I went with her, and just caught her low murmur, “But Miz Henderson will 
be thinkin’ the same as me.”  A satisfied smile was on her lips.

        Miss Alice was behind Opal all the way.  She also asked Bob Allen to 
testify since he had heard the fatal shot and seen Lundy running away, 
and he agreed, eager to end to old feud between the Taylors and the 
Allens.  Finally David came to see that he needed to completely forgive 
Bird’s Eye, too, and after that he was completely in favor of our quest 
to redeem Bird’s Eye.  In fact, he suggested that those of us at the 
mission have a prayer time for Bird’s Eye each evening.

        “I don’t understand it, Christy, but I don’t hate Bird’s Eye anymore.  
He tried to kill me, and he’s caused so many problems for us, but I 
don’t hate him.  And I just have this feeling that God’s going to get 
ahold of him.”

          Two days later Miss Ida and I stood in the mission yard as Miss 
Alice, David, Bob and Opal were about to leave for Lyleton.  
        “Are you sure you two will be all right here while we’re gone?” David 
asked.

        “Yes, David, we’ll be fine.”

        “No one will bother us,” said Ida, “Bird’s Eye will be with you, after 
all.”

        David raised his eyebrow at his sister’s sarcasm.  “Hopefully we won’t 
have to worry about him bothering anyone even after his gets back.  Keep 
him in your prayers, ladies.”

        “We will,” I promised.  “And we shall remember all of thee, as well.”  
I embraced Miss Alice and Opal, then they climbed in the wagon and rode 
away.  I watched them disappear into the horizon, then turned to get 
ready for school.  

        “You know, Christy,” Ida commented, “I know the Lord is going to work 
in this situation.  I just wonder what in the world He’s going to 
do---and how He’s going to do it.”
        
        Friday afternoon during recess, the wagon pulled up into the mission 
yard.  Only Miss Alice and David were on it, and I was confused.  “Where 
are Opal and Bob---and Bird’s Eye?”  I asked, running up to them.

        “At their respective houses,” Miss Alice replied, offering no further 
explanation about the past three days.  

        I was impatient.  “What happened?  I mean, it’s obvious that Bird’s Eye 
was released since he’s at his cabin, but how did it go?  Did he---”
        “Did he become a Christian?”  David finished with a grin.  “No, not 
yet.  But we talked a lot about forgiveness.  A seed’s been planted, 
Christy, and I know the Lord is working in his heart.”

        I wanted to find out every detail, but it was time to resume class.  I 
would just have to find out later.  My curiosity, however, drove me to 
distraction, and I could hardly focus on what I was teaching.  I was 
grateful when it was time for the children to go home.  

        I was erasing the blackboard, when a knock at the door startled me.  
Neil came in, his face aglow.  

        “Hello,” I said with a smile.  It had been a couple of days since I had 
seen him, and my heart gave a little flutter.  “How are you?”
        “I’m fine,” he replied. 

        “Something happened; what is it, Neil?” 

          He looked around the room for a moment, then said,  “Christy, what 
would you say if I told you I just had the opportunity---the 
privilege---to lead a man to Christ?”

        “Neil, that’s wonderful!” I cried, grasping his hands.  “Absolutely 
wonderful!  It wasn’t long ago that you became a Christian, but  already 
you’re so changed and leading others to Him!”

        Neil gazed down at me, laughing.  “You are ever enthusiastic, Miss 
Huddleston!  I’m glad, but lass, I haven’t yet told you who it was!”

        “Who was it then?”

        “Bird’s Eye Taylor.”

        My jaw nearly fell to the floor.  “Bird’s Eye!  How---he just got back 
from Lyleton a few hours ago, and I talked to David; he said Bird’s Eye 
hadn’t made a decision, though he was very receptive to what they had to 
say.  What happened, Neil?”

        “Well, it’s kind of a long story,” he began.  “Do you really want to 
hear it all?”

        I looked at him as if he must be crazy, and he laughed again.  “I’m 
just teasing, Christy!  What, do you think I would deprive you of a 
single detail?  I know how you like to know everything you can 
about---everything!”  

        We went and sat down on a front row bench, and Neil began his story.
        “I finished making my rounds early this afternoon and went back to my 
cabin.  I was back in my laboratory, when someone knocked on my front 
door.  I was a little perplexed, because most people who come way out to 
my place have some sort of medical emergency, and they pound, not knock.  
I was really surprised to find Bird’s Eye standing on my doorstep.  

        “I asked him if he had just gotten back from Lyleton, and he nodded.  
Christy, In all the years I’ve known Bird’s Eye, I have never seen him 
so subdued.  I said I was glad that he had been released, but he 
interrupted with, ‘I cum t’ talk with ye, Doc.’ 
 
        “There was a pleading, an urgency in his eyes I couldn’t ignore, so I 
told him to come in.  We sat there in silence for  a few minutes, when 
finally he said, ‘I reckon ye know that the only way I got out’n that 
jail was on account o’ Opal and Bob Allen forgivin’ me.  They wouldn’t 
let them law men hold me even though my boy done a lot o’ harm t’ thar 
clans.  An’ I done wrong to ’em a lot myself.    I telled ’em  that they 
shoulda left me t’ be punished fer all my sinnin’ ways, that sinners 
like me couldn’t be saved and they’uns shouldn’t try.  They only kept 
sayin’ they forgive me and wanted me t’ cum back home---even Preacher 
and Miz Henderson.  I wanted t’ say---t’ say I was sorry fer all I’d 
done to ’em, but I feeled thar was someone else I needed t’ speak to 
’bout hit first---somebody I needed t’ ’pologize to afore I said 
anythin’.

        “ ‘I ain’t talkin’ ’bout you, Doc.  I jest be wantin’ t’ know---I 
heared you been goin’ t’ meetin’.  How’d ye turn from yer sinnin’ ways?’

        “I told Bird’s Eye that I had confessed my sins to God and asked Him to 
forgive me, that I told Him I needed and wanted Him to be my Savior.  
‘Bird’s Eye,’ I said, ‘Do you want Him to be your Savior?’

        “He nodded and said that was exactly what he wanted, so I got out my 
Bible and showed him those verses in Romans that Alice showed me.  
Christy, the most amazing thing was that Bird’s Eye got down on his 
knees, and while he prayed, he wept.  I don’t think he’s ever shed a 
tear---not even when he was a wee babe.  But when he lifted his face, 
all the hardness and cold was gone, and he was glowing!  

        “He didn’t stick around my place long.  ‘I’m obleeged, Doc,’ he said, 
then got up and went to the door.  ‘I got some things I need t’ tend 
to.’  

        “As he walked across my yard, it occurred to me to invite him to church 
on Sunday, so I called after him.  He glanced over his shoulder and 
nodded in response, then continued on his way.”

        “Praise God!  Bird’s Eye Taylor is a Believer!” I cried, ecstatic after 
hearing what had taken place.  “Oh, Neil! I know I’ve used the word a 
lot, but it’s so wonderful!”

        “That’s the best word I can think of  to describe it,” he replied. 

        “How did it feel to lead him to the Lord?”

        “Well, it wasn’t me, Christy, not at all.  Only God could have worked 
in Bird’s Eye’s heart.  He knew what he needed before he came to me.  If 
I had known he was coming, I would have tried to plan what I was going 
to say to win him over, but as it was, when the time came, the words 
were on my tongue.  It was truly God.  And rightly so.  What’s that 
verse say about ‘not by works, so that I might boast’?   Salvation is 
always by the grace of God.”

        My eyes brimmed with tears as I witnessed what an extraordinary work 
the Lord was doing in Neil’s life.  What a man He was making!  I voiced 
this to Neil, and we embraced.  “Come on,” I said, rising and tugging 
his hand.  “Let’s go tell everyone  the good news!”

**********************************************************************


Chapter:  Nine
Summary:  Something happens at a church service.
Disclaimer:  "Christy", by Catherine Marshall, belong to the LeSourd 
family.  I am in no way seeking profit or credit for the characters of 
either the novel or the television series, "Christy".  I am continuing 
the story for my own amusement.  Also, any similarities to the story 
lines of other fanfictions are purely coincidental.

**********************************************************************

"The Joy of the Children", Chapter Nine


SUNDAY MORNING  I was up with the sun, even though I had lain awake long 
into the night.  There was just so much to ponder.  Would Bird’s Eye be 
at church?  Had he spoken to anyone since he went to Neil?  David had 
gone to Bird’s Eye’s cabin to talk with the new believer, but he found 
it vacant.   If Bird’s Eye did come to church, what would happen?  Would 
people accept him?  Would the Taylor-Allen feud be over?  Bob had 
forgiven him, but what about fiery, impatient Ault?  

        I tossed and turned, trying to answer these questions before the dawn, 
to no avail.  I would never have been able to sleep at all, had it not 
been for a sudden quiet that enveloped me.  

        "Isn’t it I who saved Bird’s Eye?  Don’t you think I know what’s going 
to happen?  Why are you worrying, Christy?  Leave it to Me.  I know 
Bird’s Eye’s heart.  I know Ault’s heart.  I know everyone’s hearts.  I 
created each person in Cutter Gap.  I have ordained every second of 
their lives.  Leave it all to Me!"

        So, when I awoke, I knelt by my bed and prayed.  I thanked God for what 
He had done for Bird’s Eye and asked that His Spirit would move today.  
For over an hour I kneeled there and prayed and listened.  

        The church was packed that day.  I scanned the crowd as David led the 
opening hymns, but there was no sign of Bird’s Eye.  He’s probably just 
late, I thought, but I had a strange feeling inside.  Something was 
going to happen.

        “Lordamercy!” Ruby Mae Beck’s cry interrupted the first sentence of 
David’s sermon.  “Bird’s Eye Taylor’s drivin’ into the yard with a wagon 
full o’ moonshine jugs!  But look-a-here!  He’s a-shaved and  wearin’ 
clean clothes!”

        David leaped from the pulpit and ran down the aisle to the front steps 
just before the entire congregation crowded out to see what would 
happen.  I pushed myself through the crowd and found myself next to 
Neil, whose gaze was fixed on Bird’s Eye.

        “What is the meaning of this, Mr. Taylor?” Miss Alice inquired.  

        “I know hit looks bad, but I cum here t’ speak my piece, if’n hit’s all 
right with ye,” Bird’s Eye replied mildly.

        The former nodded, and the latter continued in a loud, clear voice:

        “I know yer all a-wondrin’ why I cum t’ meetin’ this mornin’.  Yer also 
prob’ly thinkin’ I’m drunk.  Well, I ain’t drunk; I’m more sober’n the 
day I was born.  I’m here t’ tell ye all I’m a Christian now, and thar 
be two things I want t’ do right now.  First be this.”

        Bird’s Eye climbed over the seat into the  wagon bed, uncorked a bottle 
of whiskey, and emptied the contents onto the snow-covered mission yard.  
Everyone watched in silence as he poured out every last drop of 
moonshine.  

        “I swear I’ll never drink hit nor make hit agin.  Burned the still down 
last night.  Moonshine is the devil’s drink, like Preacher said.  I also 
want t’ ’pologize fer all the trouble I been the cause of here.  I been 
bitter t’ all th’ Allens and caused ye a heap o’ pain, and also t’ the 
McHones.  I been pison mean t’ the mission folks, too.  Shot at 
Preacher, tried t’ break into th’ mission, burnt the pul-pit, and 
sheared th’ horse.  I did a right poor job o’ raisin’ my boy, too.  All 
the trouble he gave Miz Christy I take blame fer.  Boy didn’t know no 
better.  Hit’s my doin’. 

        “Funny thing is, even afore I ’pologized or got saved, Bob Allen, Opal, 
Preacher, Miz Henderson, and Miz Christy all said they forgive me and 
got me out’n th’ Lyleton jail.  They taked care o’ my boy when he took 
sick, though he had shot Tom.  Kept on talkin’ ’bout forgivin’ and God, 
and I jest felt compelled t’ think hard on hit.  So I talked t’ Doc 
since he’s edycated and a mountain man and changed his sinnin’ ways.  I 
decided thar was somethin’ t’ this God business, so I prayed, and hit’s 
done me right good.  I feel like a new man, and I feel God inside o’ me.  

        “So, I jest felt it was fittin’ t’ tell ye all ’bout hit an’ hope ye 
all kin forgive me, if’n ye be believin’ me.” 
 
        The churchyard was absolutely silent and still.  I looked from person 
to person, trying to read reactions, but all I saw was the steam made 
when someone exhaled.  Still I forgot that the mountain people buried 
their emotions deep inside.  We stood there like that for what seemed 
like hours, no one saying a word.  Didn’t anyone care what Bird’s Eye 
had just done? I thought I was going to scream, when Neil moved from the 
crowd and laid a hand on Bird’s Eye’s shoulder.  

        “I can tell you all this man is sincere.  As Bird’s Eye said, I was 
with him when he asked God to forgive him of his sins, and it was 
genuine.  Immediately, I could see that he was changed.  Look at him!  
Don’t you all see it ?”

        Bob Allen went to Bird’s Eye with and outstretched hand.  “I see hit.”  
Bird’s Eye nodded and gripped Bob’s hand.  

        “So do I,” said David, joining the group.  Jeb Spencer and Kyle Coburn 
followed, and soon most of the men of the Cove were gathered around 
Bird’s Eye, smiling, clapping him on the back, shaking hands.  I looked 
at Ault Allen, who was still standing on the steps.  With a terrible 
expression and balled fists, he stared at the ground, kicking at a 
pebble with the toe of his boot.  Slowly, he unclenched his fists.  He 
looked up, straight at Bird’s Eye, and walked down the steps.  

        “I’ll forgit ’bout this feudin’, on account o’ Bob’s seein’ fit t’, an’ 
fer th’ young’uns,”  he said, choked, then fled from the church yard. 

        Though Ault said not a word about forgiveness, my soul wanted to cry 
out for joy.  The Taylor-Allen feud was over!  But then Isaak McHone 
slowly made his way to Bird’s Eye, tears streaming down from those 
almost-black eyes.  “Paw would want me t’ come,” he whispered.

          I felt a little stab of pain as I watched the boy try to forgive the 
man who had been one of his father’s pursuers.  He knelt down on the 
grown and wept so hard he shook.  Bird’s Eye crouched beside the boy and 
laid his brown hand on the blond head, just as Opal gathered her oldest 
son into her motherly embrace.  “Yer sech a good, brave boy, Isaak.  I 
don’t reckon anyone never had no finer boy.  I believe Bird’s Eye.  He’s 
a good fixer, Isaak.  A real good fixer.  But he needs all us t’ forgive 
him.”  

        Isaak’s tear stained face peered over his mother’s shoulder.  “Reckon I 
kin forgive ye, too.”
        “Not me!” shouted Uncle Bogg.  “I kin never forgit what he done t’ my 
kin.  Yer all lily-livered if ye think ye kin jest forgive ’n forgit 
jest like that!  Tom was my boy, and Bird’s Eye’s boy killed him!  He 
don’t deserve t’ be forgiven!”

        “Neither do you,” Miss Alice said, her voice calm, yet loud.  
        Please, God, I pleaded under my breath, You’ve done such a miracle 
already.  I know You can change Uncle Bogg’s heart, too.  Speak through 
Miss Alice. 

        “Neither do you, and neither do I,” she continued. “ ‘For the wages of 
sin is death.’  Yes, each of us is a sinner.  You are, Uncle Bogg, and 
so am I.  We all deserve to die for our sins.  But God’s Son died in my 
place and in yours so that we might not perish.  Think about that.  
God’s Son died for my sin.  I killed Him.  But God has forgiven me for 
that.”

        “Don’t preach t’ me, woman!”  

        “If you do not forgive Bird’s Eye, then you will be living in sin.  You 
will be separated from God, and you will nurse that grudge, and it will 
get bigger and bigger and fester like an infected sore.  It will only 
lead to more trouble, more pain than it would take to simply forgive 
this man.”

        “I said hesh up!”

        Isaak stood, wiped his tears, and took his grandfather’s hand.  “Don’t 
hang onto yer hate, Grandpappy.  It’ll start another blood feud.  
Allens’ finally ended thar feud, but it took ’em years ’n years t’ do 
hit.  Let’s not us McHones start one a-tall.  If I kin forgive him, an’ 
Momma an’ th’ Allens an’ Preacher an’ everyone an’ God, can’t ye forgive 
him, too?”

        The old squire shook his head.  “I know I should, but I jest can’t.  I 
can’t git rid o’ this hatred inside o’ me.”

        “None of us can,” David said.  “Only God can take away our iniquities 
and make us as white as snow.  Uncle Bogg, do you want to be free from 
hatred?”

        “Yes, Preacher, I shorely do.  How do I begin?”

        “Just ask the Lord.”

        Uncle Bogg bowed his head.  “Lord, I be guilty of hatin’ Bird’s Eye 
Taylor.  Take away my hatred and put forgiveness in my heart.”

        David opened his Bible.  “ ‘Put on, therefore, as the elect of God, 
holy and beloved, bowels of mercies, kindness, humbleness of mind, 
meekness, longsuffering; forebearing one another, and forgiving one 
another, if any man have a quarrel against any: even as Christ forgave 
you, so also do ye.  And above all these things put on charity, which is 
the bond of perfectness.  And the peace of God rule in your hearts, to 
the which also ye are called in one body; and be ye thankful.  Let the 
word of Christ dwell in you richly in all wisdom; teaching and 
admonishing on another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing 
with grace in your hearts to the Lord.  And whatsoever ye do in word or 
deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God and the 
Father by Him.”

        Once again, the churchyard was silent, but this time I could feel the 
Presence of the Holy Spirit.  

        “Kin ye forgive me, Bird’s Eye?”  Uncle Bogg humbly asked.  

        “I don’t blame ye fer hatin’ me.  I’m th’ one who needs t’ ask for 
forgiveness.”

        “Ye shorely have hit,” replied Uncle Bogg, and the two men embraced.  

        Miss Hattie’s voice suddenly rang out:  “Amazing grace! how sweet the 
sound---that saved a wretch like me!”

        The rest of the congregation joined in.  “I once was lost but now am 
found, was blind but now I see.”   
                     
        Throughout the rest of the verses, I found myself before my God, 
thanking Him with all my soul for His salvation and for the work He was 
doing in the Cove.  This was such a miracle!  Tears ran down my cheeks 
as we sang the last verse:  “When we’ve been there ten thousand years, 
bright shining as the sun . . .”

        I was going to spend eternity just like this, with the people of Cutter 
Gap, praising the Lord!  Thank You, Lord, that each one of these will be 
in Your kingdom forever!  I felt a strong hand grip mine and heard 
Neil’s deep voice next to me.   “We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise 
than when we’d first begun.”

Chapter:  Ten
Summary:  Christmas in Cutter Gap.
**********************************************************************

"The Joy of the Children", Chapter Ten

ON CHRISTMAS EVE the mission hosted a “play party” for the entire Cove.  
For two days the mission people were busy preparing for the celebration. 
It took an entire day for Miss Alice, Miss Ida, and I to scrub and scour 
the mission house from top to bottom.  Early the day of the party, we 
ladies went to the kitchen to begin cooking up every scrumptious dish we 
could.  I wanted to help, but after a disastrous pie (my cooking left 
much to be desired), Ida shooed me out of her kitchen.  Aching to do 
something, I gathered up all the boarders and organized a decoration 
committee.  I bundled them all up, and we went out to look for holly and 
mistletoe and anything that would be festive.  

        When we stepped out into the snow-covered mission yard, we were 
momentarily delayed by a snowball fight, initiated by Arrowwood Holcombe 
and Isaak McHone.  After a few minutes of play, I decided we’d better 
get to work on the decorations, so we set off again, rosy-cheeked and 
panting.  

        “Hey!  Where’s everybody going?”  I turned around and waved to David, 
was coming out of his bunkhouse.  

        “We’re going to find decorations for the party!” I called to him.

        “Decorations?  Can I help?”

        “Of course!”  Suddenly, I had another idea.  “David!  Get an axe or a 
saw, and we’ll find a Christmas tree!”

        “Decorations and a tree?”  He shouted in mock desperation.  “This is 
what we get for hiring city teachers!”  But he scurried of to the barn 
and was back in a few minutes with an axe.

        “Teacher, what’s a Christmas tree?” Mountie O’Teale asked.

        “You’ve never seen a Christmas tree?” 

        The little girl shook her head, as did the other children.  

        “Well,” I said.  “A it’s a big, pretty pine tree that you cut down and 
put in your house at Christmas time.”

        “Jehosephat!”  Arrowwood cried, eyes wide.  “A tree inside?”

        “Yes.  Then you put all kinds of decorations on in---popcorn strings 
and tinsel and ornaments, paper chains, candles . . .”

        “Candles?  Real, lit candles?”  asked Wanda Ann Beck.

        “Yes, of course.” Because I had always grown up with one, it had never 
dawned on me that not everyone in the world new about Christmas trees. 
        “Don’t hit catch fire?” Dicle Holt wondered.

        “Some Christmas that’d be if yer decorations burnt yer house t’ th’ 
ground.”  Arrowwood and Isaak laughed sardonically.

        “No, they don’t catch on fire, Dicle,” I assured the boy.  “But it’s 
always safe to keep a bucket of water nearby---just in case.”

        “I think it sounds real perty,” Mountie said.  “What else goes on hit?”

        “Well,” I began, trying to think what I could possibly have  forgotten.  
“A star!  A big, shiny star goes right on the top.”

        “Kin we have a star on our Christmas tree, Teacher?”  Isaak implored.

        “We’ll see what we can do,” I laughed.  Somehow, though we didn’t have 
a lot to work with, I was determined that Cutter Gap’s first Christmas 
tree would be the most beautiful one in the world.

        We were pretty close to Cutter Branch when we found a grove of large, 
filled out trees.  

        “Well, Christy,” David said with a smile, “you seem to be the expert on 
Christmas trees, so why don’t you pick?”

        I looked around for a few minutes and stopped in front of a fairly 
good-sized tree.  “This one,” I said, pointing.

        “It’s too short,” David replied.

        “I thought you said I was the expert!”

        “Well,” he laughed, “I was wrong, wasn’t I?  Ah, this is our tree.”  He 
stopped in front of a beautiful tree about ten feet tall.  

        “You’re right,” I said, as excited as a child.  “It’s perfect!”

        “Glad it meets with you’re approval, Expert.”  He swung the axe and the 
large trunk splintered---a little.  David grinned.  “This might take a 
while.  Why don’t you all go with Miss Christy and help her find 
everything else she needs to decorate the mission house?”

        The children enthusiastically scampered off with the baskets we had 
brought.  By late morning, we had found more than enough holly, 
mistletoe, and evergreen branches to decorate the la