Today's Trouble Is Enough For Today
Stories
LECTIONARY TALES FOR THE PULPIT
Series III, Cycle A
Margy was born in 1934. It was a difficult year: the family was struggling to keep the farm, and wheat prices were very low. The cattle were dying, and optimism was a distant memory.
Margy's sister was born four years later. Margy remembers watching her mother's tummy grow, and Margy's excitement about the birth of the baby grew along with it. Finally the time grew near. A woman came to help, and Margy's father looked pale. Margy remembers her mother asking if Margy could sleep over with a playmate. Margy took her dolly and her pajamas. She and her friend played baby long into the night.
Two days later, Margy's father came to pick her up. He looked sad, and Margy was confused. She didn't say a word. Her father didn't say a word. He just looked sad. Her mother met them at the door. She hugged Margy tightly and told her that a baby girl had been born to them but had only lived a few minutes and that she wasn't there anymore. Margy didn't understand, but the sounds of her mother's sobs told her that something had gone terribly wrong.
Margy wondered about her baby sister. She missed her even as her mother had another baby girl and two little boys later on. Margy accepted it as one of life's mysteries - until she was married and ready to have children of her own. She finally broached the unspeakable subject. What happened to her baby sister?
Her mother couldn't answer. Twenty--five years later, it was still too painful. Margy asked her father: the baby's cord came first and as the neighbor woman tugged, the baby turned blue. They weren't sure what to do, and they held the baby and watched as her final breath was taken from her.
Her father cried when he shared the story. He said after all those years, he still thought of that perfect little baby, so still, so quiet. He hadn't known what to do at the time. His wife was despondent, so he had a private funeral by the pond for the baby. The baby was wrapped in the best quilt, and Margy's father had taken the time to make a casket from lumber scraps. He cried and said prayers for the baby.
Times certainly had changed, he told Margy. In those days, the birth of a child was looked at with fear. Women commonly wondered if they would live through the event. Many babies died in the process. He hugged Margy tightly and assured her that today this wouldn't happen. Nurses would be on hand. She would be just fine.
Margy and her husband had two healthy children in four years with no trouble with either birth. She told her children when they were old enough to understand what happened to their aunt. Margy's parents never spoke about her sister again, but Margy felt her little sister's life - ever so brief - should still be honored. After Margy's parents died, Margy had three memorial markers made: one for her father, one for her mother, and one for her baby sister.
Margy's sister was born four years later. Margy remembers watching her mother's tummy grow, and Margy's excitement about the birth of the baby grew along with it. Finally the time grew near. A woman came to help, and Margy's father looked pale. Margy remembers her mother asking if Margy could sleep over with a playmate. Margy took her dolly and her pajamas. She and her friend played baby long into the night.
Two days later, Margy's father came to pick her up. He looked sad, and Margy was confused. She didn't say a word. Her father didn't say a word. He just looked sad. Her mother met them at the door. She hugged Margy tightly and told her that a baby girl had been born to them but had only lived a few minutes and that she wasn't there anymore. Margy didn't understand, but the sounds of her mother's sobs told her that something had gone terribly wrong.
Margy wondered about her baby sister. She missed her even as her mother had another baby girl and two little boys later on. Margy accepted it as one of life's mysteries - until she was married and ready to have children of her own. She finally broached the unspeakable subject. What happened to her baby sister?
Her mother couldn't answer. Twenty--five years later, it was still too painful. Margy asked her father: the baby's cord came first and as the neighbor woman tugged, the baby turned blue. They weren't sure what to do, and they held the baby and watched as her final breath was taken from her.
Her father cried when he shared the story. He said after all those years, he still thought of that perfect little baby, so still, so quiet. He hadn't known what to do at the time. His wife was despondent, so he had a private funeral by the pond for the baby. The baby was wrapped in the best quilt, and Margy's father had taken the time to make a casket from lumber scraps. He cried and said prayers for the baby.
Times certainly had changed, he told Margy. In those days, the birth of a child was looked at with fear. Women commonly wondered if they would live through the event. Many babies died in the process. He hugged Margy tightly and assured her that today this wouldn't happen. Nurses would be on hand. She would be just fine.
Margy and her husband had two healthy children in four years with no trouble with either birth. She told her children when they were old enough to understand what happened to their aunt. Margy's parents never spoke about her sister again, but Margy felt her little sister's life - ever so brief - should still be honored. After Margy's parents died, Margy had three memorial markers made: one for her father, one for her mother, and one for her baby sister.
