by Sandi H.
Disclaimer: The characters and situations of the TV program
"Big Valley" are the creations of Four Star/Republic Pictures and
have been used without permission. No
copyright infringement is intended by the author. The ideas expressed in this story are copyrighted to the author.
Rachel Caulfield moved the faded curtain aside that
covered the small window, which looked out on the tiny lot at the back of the
little cabin she shared with her friend Leah Thomson and Leah’s six-year-old
son, Heath. She smiled as she watched
the tow-headed youngster stoop over a cluster of yellow dandelions that grew
numerous in a small patch of grass by their well. Little Heath furrowed his brow in serious concentration as he
chose carefully the prettiest dandelions to be presented later to his mama when
she arrived home after working yet another ten-hour day at the Strawberry
Hotel.
Rachel herself didn’t work outside of the home, being of
advanced age and hindered by her nagging arthritis. No, she stayed at home mostly and kept an eye on Heath, unless
she was down at the Meeting House attending to her spiritual needs which was
about three times a week. Yes, Rachel
was a good woman. A spiritual woman,
who tried hard to inculcate real spiritual values into her young charge during
the daytime hours she watched him while his mama slaved away for a harsh
employer. It didn’t matter that it was her brother and sister-in-law who made
her toil so hard for so little. They,
too, were good Christian people, or so they claimed. Problem is, they let their “righteous over much” attitude dictate
how they treated their own kin, who had sinned. Yes, sinned. Leah was
without a husband and yet she had produced a child. Both her brother, Matt and
his wife, Martha, had lorded it over Leah and thrown her sin back in her face
every chance they got ever since the day they had learned she was with
child. Their brand of Christianity was
hot and fiery, like being scrubbed with lye soap. Out of the goodness of their black hearts, they had given Leah
work inside their hotel but the work was back breaking and tedious. Under the hawk-like eye of Martha, Leah
scrubbed and polished and cleaned in areas where the dust would filter right
back into its place behind her. Martha
was never satisfied and was given to belittling her sister-in-law, calling her
lazy and sloppy. Still, what was a
soiled woman to do in a dying mining town?
Leah had no choice but to stay under the heavy hand and harsh lips of
Martha for the pittance she received to keep both herself and her son alive.
Rachel continued to watch the boy as he raised his head
and looked towards the west and the setting sun. His eyes seemed to take on a
faraway look. His serious gaze stole
part of her smile away as Rachel thought to herself how this child was so very
serious about far too many things. Only
six years old and his childhood had been stolen from him by responsibilities
and duties that aided in their little family’s survival. Sure is was only four hours a day working
down at the livery but those four hours put bread on the table. And yet it was those hours that were
stealing something too. Was it
innocence? Laughter? Time?
Time taken away to just be a child?
And then there was school. Being
a student should bring home new wonders revealed in books and people and
places. More often than not, it brought
home cuts and bruises and blackened eyes.
It seemed that even children of tender years could develop a mind-set that
was strict and unyielding, calling for united action in purifying the scourge
from within their midst.
Rachel shook her head sadly as she turned from the tiny
paned window. When was the last time
that she really saw this little one laugh?
Really laugh. Rachel sighed as
she pulled three potatoes from a bin beside the wood box. Potatoes again. Rachel couldn’t help it when her thoughts again drifted to the
young child outside. Oh how she worried
about the boy. He was so thin. How could he possibly grow strong when meat
on the table was often a mere dream?
Shush Rachel. You hush your
mouth now, she scolded herself. The
Lord has provided for this family up until now and will continue to provide if
that is Thy will.
The waning sun had left only random streaks of orange when
Leah approached the crumbled walk of their cabin. She had walked slowly home, her back aching from working most of
the day scrubbing the cracked marble floor of the once opulent hotel. As she came closer to her home however, she
felt new energy possess her, knowing that her boy, her sweet boy Heath, her
golden child, would be there waiting for her.
“Mama! Mama, I
missed you.” Leah smiled down at
him. His words of endearment, a healing
balm to her heart.
“Mama! I have a
present for you. See? Aren’t they beautiful mama? They’re yellow. Your favorite color.”
“Oh, they’re beautiful son.” Leah carefully took the bouquet of drooping grass nuisance from
Heath’s small hands. Putting her nose
to the yellow weeds, she inhaled deeply and smiled. “Thank you Heath. You are
my thoughtful boy.”
“I love you mama.”
“I love you too, my child. My sweet boy Heath.”
To some folks like the Simmons or like the parents of the
children whom Heath was to be educated with, this gesture would have been
something unimportant and soon forgotten. To Leah Thomson, however, she
treasured those little flowers long after they had withered to nothing. It wasn’t the gift that was presented that
was important. No, rather it was the
purpose behind the gift. Genuine,
unbridled, unhindered love. A love a
son has for his mother. This little
family may never have rich material means, but they were richer than most in
the important thing.
LOVE.
THE END