Winter Is Past. Ruth Morren AxtellЧитать онлайн книгу.
I perish.’” Rebecca caused her puppet queen’s head to bow down on the last word, her fingers bringing the arms together against the queen’s breast.
The two had worked together the previous day fashioning the puppets for a presentation of Esther.
“What wonderful words—‘if I perish, I perish,’” sighed Rebecca, her own hand against her breast.
“It says here that on the third day Esther put on ‘her royal apparel, and stood in the inner court of the king’s house.’ We must fashion a properly royal gown for her,” Althea suggested.
“Oh, yes, a royal purple gown, velvet perhaps, with silk ribbons.”
“That sounds suitable. I shall consult Mrs. Coates about scraps of material.”
“Maybe you could cut up one of my old dresses.”
“I shouldn’t think we need go so far, but perhaps there are some ribbons you no longer use.”
“Oh, I have heaps of things. Let’s look in my cupboard.”
“Very well.” Althea moved to the dressing room adjoining the bedroom. Rebecca was correct. Dozens of dresses were hung up, little kid slippers and boots lined the bottom shelves. Cupboard drawers were piled to the top with petticoats and stockings.
“You could dress a whole neighborhood of children with these clothes,” she said, thinking of all the ragged children in the mission’s neighborhood.
Rebecca laughed. “Look at the green velvet dress. That used to be my favorite. When I was littler.”
Althea pulled out the dress and brought it to Rebecca, who put it up to herself. “I used to wear this to go to my grandmama and grandpapa’s. Now it is too short.”
“It is very pretty. Has it been very long since you went to your grandparents’?”
“No. I went to visit right before you arrived. Abba usually takes me for the holy days and sometimes for Shabbat. Grandmama always has lots of food. Mostly they visit me here, though.”
“Perhaps if you are feeling a little stronger, he can take you again soon.”
Rebecca’s eyes lit up. “And we could put on the puppet show for them!”
“Yes, that is an idea. You could write up some invitations, just as your papa has done for his dinner party.” Althea put a finger to her mouth. “I wonder where we can find a puppet theater?”
“Perhaps in my old nursery. That’s where I used to sleep, until I got ill then Abba decided to move me down here. This used to be his bedroom, you know. And Mama used to sleep where you are now sleeping. But that was long ago. I don’t remember that time.”
“I see.” So she and her charge were occupying the master suite. She had wondered at the size and splendor of the rooms and the presence of dressing rooms.
She returned to the dressing room and brought back some ribbons and a dress that looked absurdly small. “There seem to be clothes in here that go back to when you were an infant. I wonder if someone would mind if we cut this one up for the puppets.”
“Oh, I’m sure no one would mind. I shall ask Abba tonight.”
“Who goes over your wardrobe?”
Rebecca shrugged. “I don’t know. Mrs. Coates, but she hasn’t looked at my clothes in ages. The governess didn’t do anything about clothes.”
Althea considered. “I know some children who haven’t even one good outfit of clothes.”
“Really? Are they the ones at the mission?”
Althea sat back down by Rebecca’s bed. “Yes, and many more that live around it.”
Althea continued telling her about the children at the mission as she drew up some patterns for the queen puppet’s outfit. They had made her out of an old stocking stuffed for a head, sewed to a piece of cloth for body and arms.
“Tommy used to steal fruit from the market.” She spoke as she cut and sewed. “One night, he decided to break into the mission. He must have heard there were all kinds of things in it—food and books, even toys. Well, I hadn’t been able to sleep that night, and I had come downstairs because I was going to fix myself a cup of tea. I heard the sound of shattering glass.”
“Were you frightened?” Rebecca’s gaze was riveted to Althea’s face.
“A little, perhaps. I had known someone eventually would try to break in. You see, the house is in a part of London where there are many poor people.”
“Is it like Mayfair?”
Althea shook her head. “No, not on the outside, at least. The houses are old and haven’t been kept up. Many are boarded up because all the windows have long been broken. At night people shut themselves up because they are afraid of those around them.”
“Why do you live there? Is it because you are poor, too?”
“No, dear. I have great riches.” She smiled. “Like Esther.”
Rebecca’s eyes widened. “Are you a queen?”
Althea laughed. “No, though sometimes I feel like a princess. My riches are invisible most of the time. But even though you cannot see them, they are more precious than all the gold in the world. And so, like Esther who knew God had sent her to help her people, I, too, want to share my riches with those who need them.”
“What are your riches like?”
Althea pursed her lips. “They bring life, for one thing. They bring freedom from fear. They bring joy.”
“How did you get these riches?”
“By believing in God’s goodness.” Althea hesitated. “By believing God looked down from Heaven and saw all the poor people—even some people who seem to be rich, even people who live in palaces—and felt compassion on them because they didn’t have any of these true riches. So, He decided to give them of these riches. He decided to send the very best of Himself to them, and if they received Him, they would receive these true riches.”
Rebecca pulled her coverlet up, excited by the story. “Did it work? Did the people believe?”
“Some did, but others didn’t. Some became so angry they killed the gift God sent.”
“Oh,” breathed Rebecca. “Then what happened?”
“Well, that was many hundreds of years ago. Since then, God has asked those who believe to share the riches with others who haven’t heard. It’s gone on from there. God sent me to that part of London, for example, to show these children and the grownup folks around them how much He loves them and wants them to have these riches.”
“Why did you come here, then? Do people here need these riches, too?”
Althea smiled, touching Rebecca’s cheek. “People everywhere need them. I know God sent me here to meet you and let you know He loves you.”
Rebecca’s thin hand came up to Althea’s. “I’m glad He sent you.” She lay quietly for a little while. “Do you think Papa knows about these riches?”
“I don’t know, dear. Perhaps he doesn’t think he needs them.” She added after a moment, “Sometimes people are afraid to believe in God.”
“Why would they be?”
“I think they believe God might ask them for something, and they are afraid to give it.”
“My grandmama is afraid of God.”
“Is she?”
Rebecca nodded then smiled. “She’s always saying, ‘God forbid’ and ‘The evil eye spare me.’ She puts things around the house and on the doors to ward off the evil eye. I always imagine God’s big eyeball staring at me from the ceiling,