Seeking Answers
The anticipation of another battle and more wounded always shakes me to the core. It’s there I find myself upon my knees praying the hardest. We are often slow about getting our needed supplies, and the prospect of medical shortages heightens my frail nerves. David and I were once very timid until death brushed across our immortal souls. Papa said he would’ve become a hard-hearted man again if not for Jesus and us two. I’ve even softened Ross’s heart a smidge.
One afternoon, we were sitting together when Ross lowered his voice and stared hard into the distance. Though I am becoming accustomed to his shyness, this was a different tone for Ross.
“Emma, what do you think about owning slaves?”
“It’s a hideous act I frown upon. Why do you ask?”
Now Ross shifted his empty gaze to the ground.
“My family owns some, but as I became older, I realized I could no longer condone this barbaric act.”
Ross finally looked me directly in the eyes, and I held his gaze for a moment. Then it was my turn to look away. “I got to run; I got some things to do.”
He stood and tried to reach for my hand, but then hesitated. “Are you mad at me?”
“No, but I’m not sure how I could ever face your family if the time comes.” I lowered my head and walked away. I don’t harbor any hard feelings or resentment towards Ross, but the bigotry of others has left me hurt and bothered. The hand of slavery and its reach saddens me.
Later that evening, David, Ross, and Papa were sitting together conversing while I made dinner. Ross and I still hadn’t talked since that afternoon, but David chatted on happily. He told Ross and Papa that Mom had named me, him, and Ruth out of the Bible. The two pointed out that Emma was not a biblical name, but David was persistent. “Our mom did name us all from the Bible.”
“Prove it then,” Ross said. So David pointed to Matthew 1:23 and said, “Her name comes from our Lord’s name, Emmanuel. In Hebrew, it means God has answered. She was an answer to my parents’ prayers as their doctor told them they could never have children.” Ross and Papa were both impressed by his knowledgeable response. They all looked at me as I smiled back at them.
Tonight I am still pondering how I’ll deal with my future in-laws. I hope to be straightforward and honest in every conversation or situation. It shouldn’t have to come between Ross and me as they no longer speak for him, nor does he answer for them.
“Goodnight, my dear Saviour Jesus and sweetest friend, I pray for a resolution in your Holy name, amen.”
One afternoon, we were sitting together when Ross lowered his voice and stared hard into the distance. Though I am becoming accustomed to his shyness, this was a different tone for Ross.
“Emma, what do you think about owning slaves?”
“It’s a hideous act I frown upon. Why do you ask?”
Now Ross shifted his empty gaze to the ground.
“My family owns some, but as I became older, I realized I could no longer condone this barbaric act.”
Ross finally looked me directly in the eyes, and I held his gaze for a moment. Then it was my turn to look away. “I got to run; I got some things to do.”
He stood and tried to reach for my hand, but then hesitated. “Are you mad at me?”
“No, but I’m not sure how I could ever face your family if the time comes.” I lowered my head and walked away. I don’t harbor any hard feelings or resentment towards Ross, but the bigotry of others has left me hurt and bothered. The hand of slavery and its reach saddens me.
Later that evening, David, Ross, and Papa were sitting together conversing while I made dinner. Ross and I still hadn’t talked since that afternoon, but David chatted on happily. He told Ross and Papa that Mom had named me, him, and Ruth out of the Bible. The two pointed out that Emma was not a biblical name, but David was persistent. “Our mom did name us all from the Bible.”
“Prove it then,” Ross said. So David pointed to Matthew 1:23 and said, “Her name comes from our Lord’s name, Emmanuel. In Hebrew, it means God has answered. She was an answer to my parents’ prayers as their doctor told them they could never have children.” Ross and Papa were both impressed by his knowledgeable response. They all looked at me as I smiled back at them.
Tonight I am still pondering how I’ll deal with my future in-laws. I hope to be straightforward and honest in every conversation or situation. It shouldn’t have to come between Ross and me as they no longer speak for him, nor does he answer for them.
“Goodnight, my dear Saviour Jesus and sweetest friend, I pray for a resolution in your Holy name, amen.”
***
This morning, the army marches onward. We have spent more time on the move than actual fighting. We all get our daily exercise. As we traveled, I had this conversation with Papa.
“Papa, why is there slavery?”
“You mean beyond the fact of free labor? I’d say because of sin and the condition of people’s hearts.”
My voice lowered. “Did you know Ross’s parents own slaves?”
“Yes, we talked about it after he spoke to you.”
“I don’t want any part of it,” I paused, “but I realize it’s not Ross’ fault what his family does. I put it all in God’s hands.”
“Then that is all you can do at this point. You have plenty of time to pray about it before the war ends.”
Plenty of time was not an encouraging statement, as it also meant more time for soldiers to die and families to be torn apart by anger and death.
“So, are the Southern armies fighting for slavery?”
“I know many are, but as I said earlier, I wouldn’t lump the majority of us into that sum. Why would a man leave his home and family to risk life and limb for something he neither has nor will ever own?”
“Thanks for all the answers. Would you mind if I take Firefly and catch up with Ross?”
“That’s fine, but don’t tarry too long.”
“I’ll be back shortly; love you.”
As I neared Ross, I thought about how some folks think he looks too old for me, but it’s his beard that makes him look much older. Beneath that facial hair is a handsome young prince. Between surgery and travel, Ross hasn’t had time to stay shaven.
A man told us he overheard a Black Maria take some prisoners to the calaboose to join the chain gang. I found him very difficult to understand as he chawed on a mouth full of old molded jerky. We wished him a nice day, then broke away for a few moments to talk.
“Papa wants me back soon. So, I wondered if you’d like to bring some potatoes for supper, and I’ll get them ready with some cornbread. We have a few potatoes, but not enough for a meal.”
“Sure, you think three medium ones will do?”
“That will be fine! I’ll see you after we stop for today and reset camp.”
After supper, Ross surprised us all with a special treat. He had got his hands on some popcorn balls from a guy named Edmond, an old-time gambler who won them on a bet. The sweet molasses in them tastes so good. They're David’s favorite snack.
We were still licking the sweet sticky goodness from our fingers when Ross pipped up.
“Michael, when do you think the war will end? I would love to ask you for Emma’s hand in marriage.” I nearly choked on my popcorn ball. “It would be an honor to move near you and David if you were to give me your blessing.”
“Emma is a mature Christian lady. I will let her decide.”
Blushed, shocked, and nearly cannon-struck, I stammered, “Um, uh, I’ll be right back.” I walked behind the wagon to wash my face and take a deep breath before collecting my thoughts and going back. I gazed into Ross’ eyes. “Are you sure you like or know me that well?”
“t’s been almost a year since we first met, and I’ve loved you since the early beginning.”
“Love?” Ross had been too shy to use that word before. “You love me?”
“Don’t you love me too?”
“I do, but I didn’t know your feelings had come this far. I wasn’t sure you were ready for that commitment.” I took a deep breath. “I wasn’t sure of myself either until this moment, but I’d love to marry you and be your wife.”
As Ross bent over to kiss my hand, Papa spoke up. “The war isn’t over yet. You two have some time to work things out. But for now, let us all get some rest. We can discuss and reflect on this tomorrow.”
“Emma,” David voiced, who had been quiet through all this.
“Yes, David?”
“Can I have the rest of your popcorn ball? I mean, if you’re through eating?”
I giggled. “Sure, but brush your teeth afterward.” He hugged me, then kissed my cheek.
As he ate, he said, “Yum! Thanks, sis.”
The excitement of the engagement made it impossible to go to sleep, but finally, Papa insisted we all go to bed. I don’t know how sleep will possibly find me tonight.
“Papa, why is there slavery?”
“You mean beyond the fact of free labor? I’d say because of sin and the condition of people’s hearts.”
My voice lowered. “Did you know Ross’s parents own slaves?”
“Yes, we talked about it after he spoke to you.”
“I don’t want any part of it,” I paused, “but I realize it’s not Ross’ fault what his family does. I put it all in God’s hands.”
“Then that is all you can do at this point. You have plenty of time to pray about it before the war ends.”
Plenty of time was not an encouraging statement, as it also meant more time for soldiers to die and families to be torn apart by anger and death.
“So, are the Southern armies fighting for slavery?”
“I know many are, but as I said earlier, I wouldn’t lump the majority of us into that sum. Why would a man leave his home and family to risk life and limb for something he neither has nor will ever own?”
“Thanks for all the answers. Would you mind if I take Firefly and catch up with Ross?”
“That’s fine, but don’t tarry too long.”
“I’ll be back shortly; love you.”
As I neared Ross, I thought about how some folks think he looks too old for me, but it’s his beard that makes him look much older. Beneath that facial hair is a handsome young prince. Between surgery and travel, Ross hasn’t had time to stay shaven.
A man told us he overheard a Black Maria take some prisoners to the calaboose to join the chain gang. I found him very difficult to understand as he chawed on a mouth full of old molded jerky. We wished him a nice day, then broke away for a few moments to talk.
“Papa wants me back soon. So, I wondered if you’d like to bring some potatoes for supper, and I’ll get them ready with some cornbread. We have a few potatoes, but not enough for a meal.”
“Sure, you think three medium ones will do?”
“That will be fine! I’ll see you after we stop for today and reset camp.”
After supper, Ross surprised us all with a special treat. He had got his hands on some popcorn balls from a guy named Edmond, an old-time gambler who won them on a bet. The sweet molasses in them tastes so good. They're David’s favorite snack.
We were still licking the sweet sticky goodness from our fingers when Ross pipped up.
“Michael, when do you think the war will end? I would love to ask you for Emma’s hand in marriage.” I nearly choked on my popcorn ball. “It would be an honor to move near you and David if you were to give me your blessing.”
“Emma is a mature Christian lady. I will let her decide.”
Blushed, shocked, and nearly cannon-struck, I stammered, “Um, uh, I’ll be right back.” I walked behind the wagon to wash my face and take a deep breath before collecting my thoughts and going back. I gazed into Ross’ eyes. “Are you sure you like or know me that well?”
“t’s been almost a year since we first met, and I’ve loved you since the early beginning.”
“Love?” Ross had been too shy to use that word before. “You love me?”
“Don’t you love me too?”
“I do, but I didn’t know your feelings had come this far. I wasn’t sure you were ready for that commitment.” I took a deep breath. “I wasn’t sure of myself either until this moment, but I’d love to marry you and be your wife.”
As Ross bent over to kiss my hand, Papa spoke up. “The war isn’t over yet. You two have some time to work things out. But for now, let us all get some rest. We can discuss and reflect on this tomorrow.”
“Emma,” David voiced, who had been quiet through all this.
“Yes, David?”
“Can I have the rest of your popcorn ball? I mean, if you’re through eating?”
I giggled. “Sure, but brush your teeth afterward.” He hugged me, then kissed my cheek.
As he ate, he said, “Yum! Thanks, sis.”
The excitement of the engagement made it impossible to go to sleep, but finally, Papa insisted we all go to bed. I don’t know how sleep will possibly find me tonight.
***
It seems we are closing in on another battle, and Papa isn’t feeling well. Yesterday he had some chest pains he called “pectore dolor.” Ross had to spell that for me. So, we’ve been a little concerned about his health, but he says it’s nothing that some rest won’t help.
Papa spoke with another doctor, who agreed with his self-diagnosis. His symptoms were weakness, trembling, shortness of breath, sweating, and heart palpitations pointing to irritable heart syndrome. It’s nothing life-threatening, but the doctor recommended opium as needed. Papa decided on a herbal route when I suggested St. John’s Wort. Mom once said the red spots on the leaves symbolize Saint John the Baptist’s blood. Folklore tells us it appeared on the anniversary of his beheading. It’s readily available; it just recently bloomed in June. David and I went out to pick some this afternoon. We encountered some travelers, and David procured us an extra bag of cornmeal. Hard, stale bread and water were the norms of the day as we prepared for battle at Cedar Mountain. “The puny allotment of criminals.” One tired and emaciated man yelled. I offered him a piece of my cornbread, and he quickly scarfed it down.
Papa spoke with another doctor, who agreed with his self-diagnosis. His symptoms were weakness, trembling, shortness of breath, sweating, and heart palpitations pointing to irritable heart syndrome. It’s nothing life-threatening, but the doctor recommended opium as needed. Papa decided on a herbal route when I suggested St. John’s Wort. Mom once said the red spots on the leaves symbolize Saint John the Baptist’s blood. Folklore tells us it appeared on the anniversary of his beheading. It’s readily available; it just recently bloomed in June. David and I went out to pick some this afternoon. We encountered some travelers, and David procured us an extra bag of cornmeal. Hard, stale bread and water were the norms of the day as we prepared for battle at Cedar Mountain. “The puny allotment of criminals.” One tired and emaciated man yelled. I offered him a piece of my cornbread, and he quickly scarfed it down.
***
The repetitive struggles of war are brutal. As blood streamed from a prisoner’s face, I thought he couldn’t be much older than me. After examining him for further injuries, I cleaned and wrapped his head where a bullet had grazed his right temple. At that moment, I knew I was born to help heal others, not to harm them. I can be a reliable nurse, even to the enemy.
Today, I treated many of our troops with little supervision. My education and abilities have progressed a lot.
Both the North and the South have shed a great deal of blood across American soil. I am uncertain if any of this is worth even one man’s life, and I still wrestle over the question of why we can’t settle our differences without war. Slavery should end on both sides; everything else sounds trivial and political at this point. Self-serving men are never pleased and rarely stopped. May God pity us all. David assisted me today, and he was a great help to hand and fetch me things. He witnessed to all who came into our care. One man made a profession of salvation. I am thankful for the Lord’s timing and mercy.
After the battle, David and I washed up and sat down on the ground. I thanked him for all his help today.
“I am always willing to offer a helping hand to the less wounded soldiers,” David replied.
As we discussed how busy all the surgeons had been desperately trying to save lives, David interjected, “I just want to be home.”
“Me too.”
“I love you, sis.”
“I love you too.” Papa finally walked up and plotted himself on the ground beside us. Ross had not come with him because he needed to clean himself up a bit.
Thank God, our family is still together after so many battles. Hopefully, this war will end soon, as we are weary and heavy-laden.
Today, I treated many of our troops with little supervision. My education and abilities have progressed a lot.
Both the North and the South have shed a great deal of blood across American soil. I am uncertain if any of this is worth even one man’s life, and I still wrestle over the question of why we can’t settle our differences without war. Slavery should end on both sides; everything else sounds trivial and political at this point. Self-serving men are never pleased and rarely stopped. May God pity us all. David assisted me today, and he was a great help to hand and fetch me things. He witnessed to all who came into our care. One man made a profession of salvation. I am thankful for the Lord’s timing and mercy.
After the battle, David and I washed up and sat down on the ground. I thanked him for all his help today.
“I am always willing to offer a helping hand to the less wounded soldiers,” David replied.
As we discussed how busy all the surgeons had been desperately trying to save lives, David interjected, “I just want to be home.”
“Me too.”
“I love you, sis.”
“I love you too.” Papa finally walked up and plotted himself on the ground beside us. Ross had not come with him because he needed to clean himself up a bit.
Thank God, our family is still together after so many battles. Hopefully, this war will end soon, as we are weary and heavy-laden.