How different life was in Jaffrey since Uncle Robert arrived. In addition, there were the cherished times with Stephen and Julia and the continuing visits to the Adams' home. Occasionally Aunt Sarah would say softly to Jennie, "Don't forget us old folks, will you?" With this in mind, in spite of the severe cold, Jennie hurried over one afternoon to their home for a visit.
A fire was glowing in the hearth of the Adams' old stone fireplace. It was Mr. Adams who greeted her. "Why hello, Jennie, what a nice surprise! Sarah is in the bedroom, straightening her hair. She just got up from a nap. She'll be with you in a minute. Come on in." Jennie slipped her coat off, handing it to him, walking to the fireside where they sat down together, waiting for Aunt Sarah.
Mr. Adams, looking beyond her through the freshly-starched white curtains, exclaimed, "Look, Jennie, snowflakes! It's starting to come down again! I just heard the afternoon weather report. We're going to be in for a real bad storm this evening."
Jennie smiled. It was good to know she was safe and warm. Just as soon as the weather turned really bad, she knew she could run home and be there in five or ten minutes.
A few moments later, familiar footsteps entered the room. "And whose voice is that I hear?" It was Aunt Sarah. She greeted Jennie with a hug. "How nice you would come today. I have been especially thinking of you."
Mr. Adams rose and went outside to prepare for the storm. He turned and nodded to Jennie, "Nice to have you here!"
Sitting by the fire, Jennie rose from habit and added a log, watching it burst into flame, sending a rush of warmth into the rather chilly room. They had talked a short while when she looked out the window and said reluctantly, "I probably should go, Aunt Sarah."
"Andrew can drive you home, if necessary," the older woman suggested. At that very moment, Mr. Adams came in from the porch, stomping snow off his feet. "It's going to be bad," he warned them. "The latest news report says one of the worst storms in the history of this part of the country is coming our way. By nightfall, they expect hundreds of cars to be stranded. There appears to be no let-up in sight, and the temperature is rapidly dropping. They suggest a possibility of sixty degrees below zero with the chill factor, because of the high winds expected."
"Jennie," he said, agreeing with his wife, "hurry out to the car and I'll quickly drive you home before it gets so bad I can't make it."
She was in her coat and out to the car in no time, relieved at the prospect of soon being safely back home with her family. Her father had come home early from work, so they all sat together in the living room, trying to make the best of the cold that was seeping in through the many cracks in the old house. Mr. Benton had built a roaring fire, hoping to lessen the chill.
"There wouldn't be much chance of survival for someone who was walking any distance in this storm!" he exclaimed. "Listen to that wind howl."
Jennie remembered opening the door when she came home, and nearly being blown into the house with the terrific force of the wind.
"There seems to be a special danger with this cold front coming," her father was saying. "The authorities feel that the gas lines could freeze. If that happens, and the pilot lights go out, it will take weeks to restore heat to the area and we'll be mighty cold. We may even have to live somewhere else, temporarily."
Shelters were already being set up for the elderly. One woman was found frozen in her home, earlier that record week. Everyone was to be off the streets as early as possible. An urgent request had gone out that everyone turn their heat down as low as was feasible, to conserve the remaining fuel. The supply was rapidly dwindling.
Now they moved as close as they could to the warm fire, wondering how Alec was doing in his rather chilly barn. Hopefully he was all right.
The light of day was fading quickly into evening. The neighbors' cars went by, pulling into their driveways up and down the street at an early hour. There was an eerie feeling in the atmosphere, as if something vicious were about to strike.
"I'm so thankful we're all here," Mr. Benton said once more. "Why don't we give the Marshalls a call and see how they're doing. I know Stephen and Julia were to stay over there these next few days while their parents are away."
Ruth Marshall answered the phone, and immediately they knew something was wrong. "Julia's here, but not Stephen! He left before the storm came, to walk through the woods and watch the snow fall," she explained. "He didn't realize how cold it was going to get. Neither did we! He's been missing the mountains again, so decided to climb the small one at the edge of Jaffrey-the one we call the Hillside. It takes about an hour and a half to reach the top. He's been gone long enough now to have made it up and back!"
They were all anxious for Stephen now. Jennie could just imagine him trying to do something foolish in this storm. It would give him a real sense of accomplishment to be able to weather the storm and fierce cold alone, taking shelter in some grove of trees. She knew, however, that no human being could weather this cold for long.
Her mind traveled to the small mountain Stephen was climbing, remembering the time they had walked through the graveyard together. The path Stephen was following today led from the cemetery grounds over some rolling countryside, then up a steep trail all the way to the top. They had climbed it in the summertime in an hour and a half. That had been ideal climbing-weather. The snow, even without the storm, would make it slower. By now he should have returned, and yet there was still no sign of him. Stephen had been out in the severe cold far too long. A lot would depend on how he was dressed.
The phone rang again. Jennie dashed for it. It was Mrs. Marshall, almost beside herself with anxiety.
In the end, it was decided that both David Marshall and Jennie's father would bundle up as best they could and try to rescue Stephen. There were two routes he might have taken up the mountain. Both started at least a mile up the road from home. He could never walk that mile on top of the exposure he, undoubtedly, had already experienced.
David Marshall drove carefully to the Benton home. Just walking up to their porch from the car chilled him. He wore a heavy, black fur cap and a warm overcoat, under which were two sweaters. He stomped the snow off his feet, his brows knit in deep concern.
Soon he and Peter Benton were following one another through the falling snow, the headlights of the two cars shining through the night. They would each take a different route further up. With prayer in their hearts, knowing that the small group back home was praying as well, they separated and continued on. There really was no choice, but to go on. Each block of the way they hoped they might see Stephen, but not a soul ventured out into the storm. There was not even another car to be seen. It seemed that the entire world about them was taking shelter in their warm homes, locking themselves in against the elements.
It was Jennie's father who took the road from the graveyard that led up to the beginning of the trail. As he came to the end, wondering what to do next, he sensed a movement in the darkness. He drove closer. Peering through the falling snow, he saw that it was Stephen! He was walking with great difficulty. Mr. Benton fairly leaped from the car and ran to his side, the damp snow sticking to him as he pushed against the fierce wind.
"Stephen, Stephen!" he shouted, his voice choking with tears. Stephen barely responded. He was completely exhausted, a frightful sight-and as they discovered later, with his toes painfully frostbitten. Mr. Benton took his arm and though walking was painful, led him to the car.
A week later, the storm now a thing of the past, Stephen was back to normal with the exception of his painful feet. Jennie was sitting by the fire, remembering that afternoon. He was going to have trouble with his feet for sometime. She knew that the experience had been more frightening than he would admit. The entire incident seemed embarrassing to Stephen. He would only laugh nervously and refer to it all as nothing, when anyone brought it up.
She heard a knock at the door. It was Alec. He was there despite the remaining deep snow. Grinning, as he stomped the snow off his boots, he exclaimed, "It's just too cold and too lonely in that barn tonight. I hope you don't mind my coming over!"
Just then Kara came running down the stairs and her parents seemingly appeared from nowhere, all welcoming him to the warmth of their fireside. Lisa pulled her small rocker up to the fire, as Jennie's father stepped onto the back porch and carried in a fresh load of wood. Alec sat down in the chair nearest the fire, putting his feet up on a nearby footstool.
"Ah," he said, sighing with satisfaction, "this reminds me of a night I spent a few years back."
Kara giggled, "Sounds like another story's coming, doesn't it, Jennie?"
Mrs. Benton had gone off to the kitchen. She soon returned with a plate of cookies and some fresh milk. She knew Alec loved to eat.
"Ummmmm, very good!" he commented, as he ate his first one. "And Kara, I suppose you baked these."
Kara blushed. "No, Mom made them this time. But thanks for the compliment. Here, let me pour you some milk and then let's hear that story." She reached for the pitcher and filled his glass to the brim.
They all enjoyed Alec. He seemed to fit in as one of the family as they were all gathered around the fire.
"It was several winters ago," he began, "that I undertook a gospel effort with some Christian friends. I deeply admire the man I was helping. I'm sure he thought more of me than I really was inside and I soon found myself thinking that I was much like Samuel.
"Remember," Alec asked, "where it said that Samuel didn't yet know the Lord? Well, of course I knew the Lord, but in this sense I didn't. I just wasn't prepared for this kind of work.
"The burden grew heavier, until I could hardly contain it. I felt like I was such a failure. I remember how the Apostle Paul said he was free from the blood of all men, and began to feel under bondage about preaching the gospel. I thought it meant that I was to give a tract to everyone I met. I was so overcome by this that I dreaded going into a store. I would do everything I could to avoid even having to buy gasoline at a station. These thoughts were swallowing me up."
Alec stretched, then smiled, remembering, "One night a friend, who was also helping in the area, joined me by the fire. I put my feet up on the hearth just like I'm doing now, and poured out my heart to him. We talked a long, long while. I guess it wasn't what he said to me; it was more the fact that he was willing to listen."
Mrs. Benton added, "I've often felt that to be true. Sometimes if we can just unburden ourselves to someone, we find the answers ourselves. Often, we even realize how foolish our fears have been."
"But did you get deliverance from this?" Mr. Benton asked, returning to Alec's problem.
"Well, I just began to see that the Lord didn't want me under all this bondage. My being so miserable, afraid to even live a normal life, wasn't right. He wanted my soul established with joy, which at that time was more important than giving out tracts. Of course, what He really wants is all three: the joy, the freedom from bondage, and the desire in our hearts to tell others about His love."
"Have you decided yet whether or not you're going to stay on through the summer," Mr. Benton asked as Alec finished talking. Kara slipped out into the kitchen and filled another plate with cookies. Alec was eating almost continuously as he talked with them.
"Well, Mother really misses me; I can tell by her letters. And my dad needs me on the farm, too. I have really enjoyed the experience of being here; and I'll sure miss you all, but I am planning to leave sometime in the early spring." Each in the family expressed their disappointment.
Alec changed the subject. He was following his own train of thought, speaking of Christians being each uniquely different, prepared for a different work. "If we were all alike, we'd be doing the same things. We shouldn't try to copy someone else," he added.
His Uncle Peter spoke up, "I was thinking about the differences in Abraham, Isaac and Jacob-and then Joseph, too. All were completely different men, each one with a definite service from God."
Alec listened, then spoke in agreement, "Yes, what if one of them had tried to copy the other? Well, it wouldn't have worked." Turning to his Uncle Peter, he asked, "What were your thoughts?"
Mr. Benton opened his Bible, turning to Gen. 25. "God's gracious ways with men of questionable character are seen in that story. Remember when his famished brother asked for food, how Jacob first demanded Esau sell him his birthright?. That was pretty mean. Then he deceived his father in getting the birthright from him. In spite of this, God made promises concerning him, and vowed to fulfill them. Jacob, always wanting his own way, only delayed the blessings."
Alec leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head as his uncle continued. "Fleeing from home, Jacob's first encounter with God was in a dream, seeing a ladder reaching to heaven with angels ascending and descending. It seems to me this is a picture of the Lord descending to earth to bring salvation; then, having triumphed over death, ascending back into heaven. Don't you think so, too?"
Alec nodded in agreement, as Peter Benton continued, "In his dream a voice said: 'I am the God of Abraham thy father, and the God of Isaac.' This was followed by seven promises of good. Instead of thanking Him for these assurances, he seemed to raise a challenge. 'If God will be with me and will keep me' was his response, when God had just promised that He would!"
Mr. Benton was engrossed in his subject. He really lived through the Old Testament stories. "Finally, reaching Haran," he went on, "he met Rachel, with whom he fell in love and whom he desired to marry. But he found her father as great a schemer as he was himself, and was tricked into marrying her sister Leah first. He ended up having to serve a total of fourteen years for Rachel." Alec smiled. You could tell he was trying to imagine how Jacob must have felt.
"At the end of twenty years," Peter Benton continued, "Jacob listened to the Lord's call and returned to Canaan, where he arrived with his family of twelve sons and one daughter. As He had promised Abraham, so God promised Jacob, who had been a scheming and and rebellious man, that He would make of him a great nation. For his twelve sons became the heads of the twelve tribes of Israel."
Mr. Benton closed his Bible, finishing his thoughts, "Before his death, Jacob owned God's hand in preserving him and made a touching confession of his unworthiness. I wonder if we can't see some of Jacob's ways in our own lives!"