59 
Hope’s Return

Betsy had been watching the windows constantly for two days. Jocelyn had begun to worry that the girl was sinking back into the uncommunicative melancholy of her first days at Heathersleigh. She was slowly withdrawing and growing increasingly restive.

But the moment Betsy saw the carriage coming up the drive, she flew down the stairs and ran out to meet it, grinning from ear to ear. Sister Hope scarcely managed to set foot to the gravel before she was fairly overrun.

“Betsy dear!” she exclaimed laughing, trying to keep her balance amid a charging hug that nearly knocked her over.

“I couldn’t wait for you to get back,” said Betsy. “I have so many things to show you! I found another hummingbird nest.”

“I want to hear all about it,” laughed Hope. “First let me get my bags inside. And I have something exciting to tell you about too.”

“You do! What?”

“Help me with my bag, and then we shall take a walk together. You can show me the nest, and I will tell you my surprise.”

Already Betsy had grabbed one of the bags and was eagerly lugging it toward the house and on up to Hope’s room. Hope followed her, pausing to greet Jocelyn, Amanda, and Catharine at the door. Affectionate kisses and hugs followed.

“Betsy has been in an absolute state waiting for you,” said Amanda, “—hasn’t she, Mother?”

Jocelyn laughed as she nodded. “I have never seen her like this,” she said. “Something about you went straight to her heart.”

Hope took in the words with quiet thankfulness to the Lord for giving her instant confirmation to what was in her mind to do.

“Jocelyn,” she said, “might I be able to have a word with you, just for a moment before Betsy gets back downstairs?”

“Certainly,” nodded Jocelyn.

Hope set her bag down, and they walked a little way from the door out away from the Hall.

“I don’t want to say anything to Betsy without speaking with you first,” Hope began. “So what would you think if I asked her if she would like to visit Switzerland with me?”

“I think she would enjoy that very much. It is a wonderful idea.”

“And you would have no objection?”

“None at all.”

Twenty minutes later Betsy and Hope were outside together. Betsy had hold of Hope’s hand pulling her along, again toward the woods.

“I have a question to ask you, Betsy,” said Hope. “How would you like to come with me when I leave next time—to Switzerland?”

“Oh yes . . . yes! When can we leave!” exclaimed Betsy. All thought of the bird’s nest instantly disappeared from her mind.

“It is not quite so simple as just getting on a train,” laughed Hope. “There will be much to do. But we will begin making preparations tomorrow.”

————

Later that evening, after Betsy was in bed and Hope and Jocelyn were alone, the two women were discussing a number of practical matters concerning this waif whom the Lord had so unexpectedly dropped into their lives.

“We will have to get her a passport, of course,” Hope was saying, “which may be somewhat difficult without birth records and knowing as little about her as we do.”

“It might be that we will need to file for some sort of temporary legal guardianship,” suggested Jocelyn. “I had already been thinking along those lines. I haven’t been able to get a word out of her about other relatives, but it is something we have to consider.”

“Yes, that would certainly be advisable.”

“I will telephone Lieutenant Langham in the morning,” said Jocelyn, “and Timothy as well.—Oh no . . . what am I thinking? Lieutenant Langham is away from London with Lieutenant Forbes.”

She thought a moment. “Well, the naval office can tell me when he will be back,” she said. “In the meantime, Timothy will do whatever he can. I have needed to look into Betsy’s affairs and report what happened to someone, but I wasn’t quite sure what to do.”

“If we could arrange for something temporary, that would be good,” said Hope. “Then, if and when we learn anything further, more permanent arrangements can be made for the girl.”

“I will talk to Timothy, and perhaps Lieutenant Langham about it,” said Jocelyn. “How long were you thinking of Betsy visiting?”

There was a brief silence.

“What I would ultimately like to do,” began Hope slowly, “—that is, if we are able to confirm that Betsy has no one else—is adopt her.”

“Oh, Hope, that is wonderful!” said Jocelyn. “Would it be possible?”

“With my dual citizenship, I would think it could be done.”

“Have you said anything to Betsy?”

“No, only about going to Switzerland. I want to investigate the matter thoroughly first. But mostly I wanted to know what you think. After all, the Lord did lead her here first.”

“And led you to come too,” added Jocelyn, “I think for just this purpose. I didn’t know what we were eventually going to do about her, though we certainly would have been happy to keep her indefinitely. I think this is wonderful. I could not be more pleased.”

Hope nodded and thought a moment.

“Yes,” she said at length, “I do feel that the Lord led me here for Betsy. But I think there is a larger purpose, even than that.”

“A larger purpose, what do you mean?”

“A larger purpose for you and Catharine and Amanda.”

“I still do not see exactly what you mean.”

“I believe Betsy’s coming here,” said Hope, “is the Lord’s sign that he is going to use you all, and this wonderful home he has provided for you, in perhaps something of the same way he has the Chalet of Hope.”

Jocelyn smiled and was quiet a moment. Then she briefly told Sister Hope what Amanda had discovered about their home, and the direction they were praying about following.

Sister Hope shook her head and laughed lightly. “Remarkable,” she said when Jocelyn was through.

“Why do you say that?”

“It is so like the Lord to give a vision, only then to take away the very means, in our eyes, for it to be fulfilled. I think of his promise to Joseph, only to be followed by Joseph’s being sold into slavery.”

“I see what you mean,” replied Jocelyn.

“He filled my heart with a vision for missions,” Hope went on, “which he is now fulfilling at a chalet in Switzerland. Foreign missions—I could never have foreseen his way of fulfilling that vision. In the same way, I am certain that even should you leave Heathersleigh, you will look back on it as fulfilling his purpose.”

Jocelyn smiled a sad, nostalgic but bittersweet smile. “I always dreamed of a happy family,” she said, “and then later as we began living as Christians, I dreamed of serving the Lord together with our children, all of us the best of friends, into the teen years and that friendship growing richer in adulthood. I will never understand why God put family so deeply into Charles’s heart and mine only to have it turn out as it did.”

“It may be another example like Joseph,” replied Hope. “Perhaps that vision he put in your heart will be fulfilled . . . is even now being fulfilled. But perhaps God’s higher purpose is for your experiences, even your grief and heartbreak and Amanda’s prodigal years, to help many more families than just your own.”

“How ironic that our experience may help others know what we were never able fully to experience ourselves. I am not altogether sure I like it,” said Jocelyn sadly, “or would have chosen such a road had I been able to foresee it.”

“But for those who pray to be made like our Lord,” rejoined Hope, “as, now that I know you, I am certain you and Charles did pray together, such decisions are not ours to make.”

“Yes, you’re right,” said Jocelyn. “Charles continually prayed the prayer of Christlikeness. I am sure that if the Lord had asked Charles, ‘Are you willing to lay down your life and your dreams for my sake?’ he would have answered that he was willing.”

“Once that prayer is prayed, our lives are no longer our own,” said Hope. “We have embarked upon a road that is difficult, often lonely, a road that has been called the Calvary Road. But it has been the road of God’s saints of obedience through the centuries. And I know, had you any choice in the matter, you would not have wanted your Charles any other way.”

Jocelyn nodded, a tear or two creeping into her eyes. “As long as he was with me, I could bear the heartache of Amanda’s being gone,” she said. “She was always in my heart, every day, every moment all those long years. I ached constantly with love for her. Yet somehow I could bear it . . . with Charles. But to have him gone, and George with him, when Amanda returned . . . oh, Hope, it is so hard to bear.”

Hope rose, went to Jocelyn’s side on the couch, and placed a tender hand on her arm.

“Perhaps by your own prayers, and those of your dear husband,” she said, “and the dreams that seem that they will never be fulfilled . . . perhaps by them you are the sacrifice, laid down that our Father might work healing and reconciliation and homecoming in many other hearts.”

Before she was through speaking, Jocelyn was quietly weeping. Hope stretched a loving arm around her.

“He will fulfill the ministry he intends for you and your two lovely daughters,” Hope said, “perhaps in ways none of you expect. I believe the day will come, Jocelyn, as it did for me through my own grief that I did not think would ever end, when you will rejoice and thank God . . . maybe not for what has happened, but through what he has been able to do by putting it to use in his kingdom.”

It was silent a minute or two as Jocelyn wept at the magnitude of what Hope had just said.

“Lord,” began Hope, “I pray for your blessing on this home, this place, and these three women who are your servants and whose hearts desire to serve you. I pray that you will strengthen my dear sister Jocelyn. Though she feels weak at this moment—and how I remember the feeling—remind her every day that your strength is made perfect in weakness. You will use her, as you will use her home, the love that is in her, a love poured out on the altar of sacrifice, to demonstrate your love to others. Even now I pray for the people like Betsy you will send to receive that love, that you would be preparing their hearts for the ministry they will receive from these, your women. Continue to guide Jocelyn and Amanda and Catharine as they seek your will about what to do.”

A long silence followed Hope’s prayer.

“Thank you, Hope,” whispered Jocelyn at length. “I hear what you have said, and I receive it into my heart. It will always be hard. I will always miss Charles. But God is good.”

She paused a moment, then added, “Life may always be hard . . . but God is good.”

“Amen,” added Hope softly. “God is good.”