MARTHA STUDIED THE map of New England in her car, hoping that she had taken the correct exit off Route 84 to get her to West Hartford. She had driven almost a hundred and fifty miles to visit a thirty-two-year-old mother of three who had a large inoperable tumour on her spine. Thea Warrington had already undergone massive chemotherapy and radium treatment over the past few months but seemingly all to no avail. It was her husband Erik who had contacted Martha, deluging her with letters and phone calls and even a video of his family until she had finally agreed to come and see her.
Secretly, she’d been dreading the visit and expected dealing with the cancer victim to be harrowing. Instead she had met one of the most intensely peaceful and joyous African-American women she had ever been privileged to be introduced to.
Thea, despite the ravages of her illness, greeted her with a warm smile which showed off her beautiful eyes and bone structure. Her grace and charm were endearing and it was clear she was adored by Erik and their three young sons. They had a striking modern home with tall glass windows about two miles out from the town centre surrounded by the most amazing landscaped gardens.
‘I’m a landscaper,’ said Thea proudly. ‘Erik and I have our own business.’
Martha felt an immediate bond with her and although she had expected Thea’s life force to be low and weak she was surprised by its balance and strength.
‘The doctors tell Erik that I am going to die soon but, Martha, I don’t feel it! I don’t believe it! The Lord is good. He would want me to raise those three fine boys he sent me, live to watch them grow and get through school, I know that. The Lord is merciful, that I am sure of.’
Martha was amazed by Thea’s faith and lack of anger, and by her incredible willpower. From the minute she laid her hands on her she could sense Thea’s resolve to stay on this earth. She was grounded with a love of the soil and nature, which was probably due in some part to her calling as a gardener. The mass of the tumour was large and complex and Martha found she had to focus strongly on its congealed heavy structure as she sent healing to it, with Thea’s own energy equally concentrated during the session. Her hand grew hot, vibrating as if filled with a pulsing energy as she tried to dry it out, draw off the fluid-saturated tissue and shrink it, pull it away from the cord and nerves it was damaging and negate its ability to spread.
‘That sure feels good,’ murmured Thea as she worked.
Passing her hands along the rest of Thea’s body she could sense an incredible balance, and despite or maybe because of all her medical treatment there was very little spread and few hot spots she could detect.
At the end of the healing she joined Erik and Thea for lunch served in a bright wooden kitchen, with floor to ceiling windows which looked out over their acres of garden.
‘It’s stunning! I can’t believe the range of planting and colours and shapes you’ve got,’ she said admiringly as she took in a bed swathed in a variety of blues and mauves, flame-coloured grasses setting alight a dark corner. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it.’
‘I know it’s our business, but it’s a labour of love,’ admitted Erik.
‘Have you and your husband got a nice garden?’ enquired Thea.
‘I’m afraid I’m not much of a gardener,’ lamented Martha, ‘and I’m so busy it’s been very neglected of late.’
‘Gardens need time,’ suggested Erik. ‘They don’t like being rushed and need a whole heap of coaxing. Every season brings its own work.’
‘This place of ours is just coming into its own now, after five years’ hard work. Now there’s winter roses and heathers and pansies for colour, last flowerings likely before the first snow falls, but you should have seen it at the height of summer. Paradise – so pretty and the scents that came from that border I’ve created outside the window! Why, it’s just glorious! Erik built it for me on a height so that I can still work on it from my wheelchair as I’m not prepared to give up the pleasures of weeding.’
Martha thought of her own overgrown back yard, where weeds rambled and propagated unchallenged.
‘I hate weeding,’ she laughed. ‘I’m much too lazy.’
Thea was tired, drowsy after the session, and as Martha had a long drive back to Boston the two women eventually agreed to say goodbye.
‘I’ll have a nap when you’re gone, Martha, that way I’ll be awake when the boys get in from school.’ Thea smiled, squeezing her hand. ‘Erik and my boys are all that matter to me right now.’
Martha tried to hold back on the emotions she herself was experiencing as she kissed her forehead.
‘You take care of yourself, Thea.’
‘Will you pray for me?’
‘Of course I will,’ she agreed. ‘And you keep after the Lord for what you want. I think he listens to you.’
Erik Warrington had a selection of tall plants and small pots set out on the step near her car. He insisted she take them, and spread a sheet of plastic in the trunk before loading them into the back of the Volvo.
‘Oh, thank you, Erik, that’s so kind of you.’
‘Some you can leave in the big pots till next spring, just keep them watered, and the rest, why you can plant them out right now.’
‘I’m not much good with plants,’ she warned him.
‘These will grow,’ he promised. ‘Thea seeded and grew all of them from cuttings herself. Her green fingers seem to make everything grow.’
He stood in front of her, a strong stocky man, his face filled with concern for his wife. ‘I don’t want to lose her,’ he blurted out, trying to control himself.
Martha touched his arm.
‘I can’t make any promises,’ she said. ‘You know I can’t, but Thea is strong, and her body and mind and soul are joined in fighting this illness. She has faith and such a strong belief. I know what the doctors say, but sometimes they are wrong.’
‘Sometimes there are miracles,’ he insisted, staring at her. ‘Sometimes!’
‘God is good,’ agreed Martha. ‘And I pray he’ll be good to her, to both of you.’
Back on the highway she couldn’t get Thea out of her mind, asking herself why in heaven’s name she was getting herself emotionally involved with someone else, when already so many were dependent on her. Yet thinking of Thea she knew that despite the poor prognosis of her illness Martha had felt during the healing a very definite sense of hope for the mother of three.
Her thoughts turned to her own family as she drove home and she realized the love of her husband and children were all that truly mattered to her.