Stormy, Misty's Foal

<h2><SPAN name="Chapter_19" id="Chapter_19"><i>Chapter 19</i></SPAN></h2> <h3>GLORY HALLELUJAH!</h3> <p>Paul turned from the telephone and let out a war whoop loud enough to break the sound barrier. He grabbed Maureen and they pulled Grandpa between them and went dancing around the kitchen table, lifting their knees high, bugling like wild horses. It was a free-for-all frolic. Grandpa was suddenly himself again, spry-legged and bellowing.</p> <p>Grandma laughed in relief. She dropped her spoon in the pancake batter and half ran to the organ. Recklessly she threw back the lid and, with all stops open, made the notes thunder and throb as she sang in her full-bodied voice:</p> <div class="poetry"> <div class="stanza"> <div class="verse">"Glory, glory, halle-<i>loooo</i>-jah,</div> <div class="verse">Glory, glory, halle-<i>loooo</i>-jah,</div> <div class="verse">Glory, glory, halle-<i>loooo</i>-jah,</div> <div class="verse">His truth is marching on."</div> </div></div> <hr class="chap" /> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illus48.jpg" alt=""/></div> <hr class="chap" /> <p>Around and around the table marched the three Beebes. Skipper burst into the house, joining the dance, howling to the music. At last Grandpa had to sit down, and Paul and Maureen fell limp and exhausted on the floor.</p> <p>Grandma turned from the organ, her eyes crinkled with joy. She clapped her hands for attention, then chanted:</p> <div class="poetry"> <div class="stanza"> <div class="verse">"<i>Come</i> day, <i>go</i> day;</div> <div class="verse">God send <i>Sun</i>-day.</div> </div></div> <p>And where do we go today?" she asked.</p> <p>"To Pocomoke!" Maureen burst out.</p> <p>"But before that, where? And who do we thank today?"</p> <p>"Misty!" Paul shouted. But he grinned as he said it, knowing what Grandma had in mind.</p> <p>Grandpa twisted uncomfortably. "Me and him," he said, scratching Skipper behind an ear, "we got to clean out the truck and do a passel o' things. We'll jes' do our churchin' while we work."</p> <p>"Clarence Beebe, you'll do no sech a thing! Today is a shining special day and we won't argify. To church we go. <i>As a fambly!</i>"</p> <p>Promptly at nine forty-five the truck, now clean as water and soap could make it, rattled out of the yard with Grandpa and Grandma sitting dressed up and proud in the cab, and Maureen and Paul in back, feet dangling over the tailgate. The sun was shining for the first time in a week, and the sky was a luminous blue.</p> <hr class="chap" /> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illus49.jpg" alt=""/></div> <hr class="chap" /> <p>"Seems almost like it's Easter," Maureen said. "Seems different from other Sundays. Wonder why?"</p> <p>"'Cause we're wearing shadow rolls over our noses, just like race horses."</p> <p>Unconsciously Maureen felt of her nose.</p> <p>"Can't you see, Maureen? We're not even looking at the houses with their porches ripped off and mattresses and things drying in the sun. We're seeing bigger."</p> <p>"Like what?"</p> <p>Paul looked up. "Like that flag flying over the Fire House, painting stars and stripes on the sky. And the sea smiling and cheerful as if it'd never been nasty-mean."</p> <p>Maureen nodded. "And even if the houses <i>are</i> all bashed in, Paul, you hardly notice them for the clumps of daffydils."</p> <p>It was true. The world seemed reborn. The blue-green water of the bay was unruffled and washing softly against the drift. Gulls were gliding on a seaward breeze with scarcely a wing-flutter. And here and there in all the mud and muck, hosts of yellow daffodils were nodding like spatters of sunshine.</p> <p>Up in front Grandpa and Grandma were feeling the same joy. "The storm sure bloomed the place up," Grandpa said.</p> <p>Grandma sighed in deep contentment. "Takes a wrathful storm to make us 'preciate bonny weather, don't it?"</p> <p>As the Beebe family took their seats in the rapidly filling church, the men of the Coast Guard filed into the front rows.</p> <p>"Paul!" Grandpa whispered loud enough for the whole congregation to hear. "There's Lieutenant Lipham. He's the one rescued you the day you snuck over to Assateague and your boat drifted away."</p> <p>The lieutenant turned around, smiling broadly. Paul's cheeks reddened.</p> <p>Maureen had secretly brought the birth announcements to church so that she and Paul could fill in the hour and date, everything except the name. But they never even opened the package. From almost the beginning of the sermon, they leaned forward, listening with every fiber.</p> <p>"The earth is the Lord's," the deep voice of the preacher intoned. "He hath founded it upon the seas, and established it upon the floods."</p> <p>And just by listening to the resounding voice, Paul and Maureen could see God commanding Noah to build the ark, big and flat-bottomed, and they could see the flood waters rising and the animals marching in, two by two.</p> <p>"God is in the rescue business," the preacher's words rolled out, "and every believer is a member of His rescue force. Today we pay special tribute to the United States Coast Guard. In the sight of God, men who do not know the harbor of His love are like men lost at sea, grasping for something or someone to save them. The Church is God's rescue force, just as the Coast Guard is the government's rescue force."</p> <p>The preacher half-closed his eyes. "On Thursday night," he said, "when the last of the refugees staying here in our church had been taken to their homes or to the mainland, I walked down the streets and saw the havoc and the emptiness of our once lovely island. Yet no Chincoteaguer had lost his life, and I paused to thank God.</p> <p>"Then I came back to the parsonage. All was dark and quiet. I was alone. Darkness was all around. Then a flash across the sky! The only light left shining came from the old lighthouse on Assateague Island. It was spreading wide its beam of hope and guidance. So it is when the lights of this old world are snuffed out, and the storms of life would destroy us, the steady light of God's love still shines. As our great Coast Guard keeps the light flashing from the lighthouse, so it is our task to keep our lights burning here at home.</p> <p>"Let us sing."</p> <p>Paul and Maureen were almost sorry when the sermon ended. They rose with the congregation, and sang as lustily as Grandma. Even Grandpa made his lips move as if he knew the words:</p> <div class="poetry"> <div class="stanza"> <div class="verse">"Brightly beams our Father's mercy</div> <div class="verse indent2">From His lighthouse evermore,</div> <div class="verse">But to us He gives the keeping</div> <div class="verse indent2">Of the lights along the shore."</div> </div></div> <p>Just as the final "Amen" faded, the preacher was handed a message. He read it to himself in apparent pleasure. Then he stilled the congregation.</p> <p>"Friends," he said with a smile, "I have an important announcement." He cleared his throat and glanced at Paul and Maureen before he began. "On this day, in a stable in the city of Pocomoke, a foal was born&mdash;a tiny mare colt." He paused. Then he added, "And her mother is Misty."</p> <p>There was a rustle as everyone turned to look at Paul and Maureen, then smiles and murmurs of "Misty ... Misty" from every pew.</p> <p>Quickly the congregation moved out into the bright sunshine. Preacher Britton was greeting the members, and Paul and Maureen, blushing in embarrassment, were standing beside him. Everyone was shaking hands with everyone else. Hands that all week had lifted and scrubbed and prayed now clasped each other in joy.</p> <p>"It's the happiest news to reach Chincoteague in a week of terror!"</p> <p>"The very happiest."</p> <p>For once Grandpa didn't bolt for home as if his house were on fire. He shook hands heartily with the preacher. "Reverend," he said, "ye jes' put up one o' the greatest sermons I ever heerd!"</p> <p>"Come oftener," the preacher replied with a grin.</p> <hr class="chap" /> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/ch.jpg" alt=""/></div> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />