town's refusal
to stand up to this family. She half expected Kaitlin to be
angry, both at her for not sharing and at Mrs. Duckworth's manipulation. But instead Kaitlin looked very
thoughtful.
"Mother had a problem like that once."
"She did?" Marcail was astounded.
"Urn hm. In Hawaii. You were probably too young to
recall. One of the leaders in the village wanted his son
schooled, but without the slightest bit of correction. And
believe me, this boy needed to be disciplined."
"How did she handle it?"
"She wouldn't allow him into the schoolhouse. He ran
home to his father, who stormed over to Mother in a fury,
but she stood up to him. When he left he took not only
his own son, but every child who was related to him by
blood or marriage. Half the school was missing."
"What did Mother do?"
"She taught the children who remained," Kaitlin
stated serenely, obviously agreeing with her mother's
choice of action. "Within a week's time, all but the one
boy were back in school. It took another month before we
saw him again, but there was never any trouble after
that."
Marcail was silent as she digested this new picture of
her mother. Their situations were not identical, partly
because of the position of respect and admiration her
parents always held in the villages, but Marcail did
see similarities. She wasn't completely sure she'd have
handled it the same way.
True, most of the children had come back within a
week, but what if they hadn't? How long would Mother
have let the children go without their schooling before
trying to find another solution? It was a question only
Theresa Donovan could have answered, and she was no
longer there to ask.
"I'm not saying that you should do the same thing,
Marc." Katie's voice cut into her thoughts. "Please don't
think that. You have to follow your heart. At least you're
able to talk with Sydney and reason with him. Unless I
miss my guess, you see him as a mission field."
She smiled at how easily Katie could read her. Marcail
did see Sydney as a freshly plowed field, just waiting for
planting, and she prayed every day that God would help
her sow the seeds of truth. He was a little boy much in
need of a personal relationship with Christ Jesus, and
Marcail's constant prayer was to be used of God to that
end.
Donovan cried then, and Katie went to check on him.
Once alone, Marcail's mind wandered to her last day of
school and the lovely lace handkerchief Sydney had
given her. Most of the children had brought her something, and she was grateful for every gift. But none of the children had sported Sydney's look, a look that begged
her to find him as special as his gift.
Well, he was special, and Marcail took time right then
to pray for him as the new year approached. She also
prayed that she would return, renewed in spirit and
body for the remainder of the year. She didn't know what
tomorrow would bring, but she believed it was in God's
hands.
fourteen
The weeks Marcail spent at home for Christmas were
some of the best that year. She loved Willits and Visalia,
but Santa Rosa had been home for such a long time that it
was hard to think of it in any other way.
Free from the cares of the classroom and lessons,
Marcail felt like a schoolgirl once again. Her father,
thinking she would be in Santa Rosa more often, had
brought most of her dresses from Visalia when he came
for his Christmas visit. Marcail dressed in her best to go
out with friends on drives and to dinner, enjoying the
time of her life.
Christmas was like old times, even though everyone
was sorry that Sean and Charlotte weren't able to leave
the mission in the Hawaiian Islands to be with them.
The girls loved the dolls their Aunt Marcail had brought,
and she was thrilled with their reaction. Marcail herself
said she made out like a bandit, with more lovely gifts
than she'd ever received before.
It was great fun to sit around and catch up on all the
latest news, the
to stand up to this family. She half expected Kaitlin to be
angry, both at her for not sharing and at Mrs. Duckworth's manipulation. But instead Kaitlin looked very
thoughtful.
"Mother had a problem like that once."
"She did?" Marcail was astounded.
"Urn hm. In Hawaii. You were probably too young to
recall. One of the leaders in the village wanted his son
schooled, but without the slightest bit of correction. And
believe me, this boy needed to be disciplined."
"How did she handle it?"
"She wouldn't allow him into the schoolhouse. He ran
home to his father, who stormed over to Mother in a fury,
but she stood up to him. When he left he took not only
his own son, but every child who was related to him by
blood or marriage. Half the school was missing."
"What did Mother do?"
"She taught the children who remained," Kaitlin
stated serenely, obviously agreeing with her mother's
choice of action. "Within a week's time, all but the one
boy were back in school. It took another month before we
saw him again, but there was never any trouble after
that."
Marcail was silent as she digested this new picture of
her mother. Their situations were not identical, partly
because of the position of respect and admiration her
parents always held in the villages, but Marcail did
see similarities. She wasn't completely sure she'd have
handled it the same way.
True, most of the children had come back within a
week, but what if they hadn't? How long would Mother
have let the children go without their schooling before
trying to find another solution? It was a question only
Theresa Donovan could have answered, and she was no
longer there to ask.
"I'm not saying that you should do the same thing,
Marc." Katie's voice cut into her thoughts. "Please don't
think that. You have to follow your heart. At least you're
able to talk with Sydney and reason with him. Unless I
miss my guess, you see him as a mission field."
She smiled at how easily Katie could read her. Marcail
did see Sydney as a freshly plowed field, just waiting for
planting, and she prayed every day that God would help
her sow the seeds of truth. He was a little boy much in
need of a personal relationship with Christ Jesus, and
Marcail's constant prayer was to be used of God to that
end.
Donovan cried then, and Katie went to check on him.
Once alone, Marcail's mind wandered to her last day of
school and the lovely lace handkerchief Sydney had
given her. Most of the children had brought her something, and she was grateful for every gift. But none of the children had sported Sydney's look, a look that begged
her to find him as special as his gift.
Well, he was special, and Marcail took time right then
to pray for him as the new year approached. She also
prayed that she would return, renewed in spirit and
body for the remainder of the year. She didn't know what
tomorrow would bring, but she believed it was in God's
hands.
fourteen
The weeks Marcail spent at home for Christmas were
some of the best that year. She loved Willits and Visalia,
but Santa Rosa had been home for such a long time that it
was hard to think of it in any other way.
Free from the cares of the classroom and lessons,
Marcail felt like a schoolgirl once again. Her father,
thinking she would be in Santa Rosa more often, had
brought most of her dresses from Visalia when he came
for his Christmas visit. Marcail dressed in her best to go
out with friends on drives and to dinner, enjoying the
time of her life.
Christmas was like old times, even though everyone
was sorry that Sean and Charlotte weren't able to leave
the mission in the Hawaiian Islands to be with them.
The girls loved the dolls their Aunt Marcail had brought,
and she was thrilled with their reaction. Marcail herself
said she made out like a bandit, with more lovely gifts
than she'd ever received before.
It was great fun to sit around and catch up on all the
latest news, the
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