Angel Coming

Our sweet neighbor from the Knoll, a former nurse, gave Gracie this book for Christmas. Immediately when I opened it I was touched because the little girl looks just like Grace. She told us that the book was about a little girl who got a little brother.

In the quiet narrative, a young girl awaits the arrival of a new sibling. The lyrical text reads like poetry: "Mama says an angel is coming, coming clear up the mountain, riding clear up Lonesome Creek, a tiny babe tucked in her saddlebag, a tiny babe tucked safe and warm." Attractive, realistic acrylic paintings show the family's preparations as Pap takes the handmade cradle out of storage and Mam washes tiny garments that once belonged to the narrator. Glimpses of life in the hills include a quilting bee with all of the aunties and storytelling by the fireplace. In the end, though she hoped for a sister, the girl readily accepts her little brother, declaring, "Can't help but love him just the same." An appended author's note gives a brief history of Mary Breckinridge and the Frontier Nursing Service, describing the nurse-midwives who traveled into rugged terrain to serve families that otherwise went untended. It also explains that many young Kentuckians believed that babies arrived in the saddlebag of one of these "angel[s] on horseback."

When we got in the car to drive away from home the emotion came. God allowed me a precious moment of taking it all in. To date, the four years we spent at the Knoll were the most difficult of our lives. Contained within, various seasons were intertwined to compile one big character sifter. God knew that there were things in us that needed to go. He graciously ordained a myriad of trails, not the least of which was a two and half year wait for another little babe to fill our quiver. One of the hardest things about that time was the ache that we felt for Gracie. We so wanted her to experience the joy of having a little brother or sister. She didn't know. Sweet as she is, she played by herself so many days as Mark and I, and our sweet neighbor across the yard, looked on. Like the book summary says, "in the impressionistic acrylics, children run barefoot and the small house is spare, but abundant riches derive from the warm, close-knit neighbors who work and dance together."

Abundant riches indeed. I'm so grateful for all that we went through while living at the Knoll. An Angel, a Servant, riding on horseback, crossing rugged terrain, to a family otherwise unattended, brought us a baby. At last. He is so generous, isn't He? He even provided the saddlebag from Petunia Pickle Bottom. Glory. Then, at just the right time, God danced us along out of there. Broken, but better. Wonderfully wounded. And a perfectly intact family of four.

Thank you, Myra for the book. We will miss you so!