Spring's Gentle Promise Read Online Free PDF Page B

character—neat and attractive—was rushed and almost sloppy. This letter conveyed intense excitement.
    “I can’t believe it, Josh!” she wrote. “After all these years I am finally going to Willie’s Africa. To the people he learned to love so. I will be stationed near enough to the village where Willie served that the mission has promised a trip to the grave site. I will be able to see the spot where Willie’s body is lying. I know that it might not seem like much to others, but I think you will understand. I want to personally be able to lay some flowers on Willie’s grave. And it will be very special for me to be able to kneel there and ask God to help me in carrying on Willie’s ministry.
    “I won’t be staying in the area. At least not for now. They say it is much too primitive to leave a woman all alone, and there is no other young lady available to live and work with me at present. But I am praying that if it is God’s will, He will provide me with a working companion so that we might be able to live there before too long and have a chance to reach Willie’s people.
    “He used to write me all about them. I can almost see them. There was the chief—a small man by our standards—but, my, he had power! Willie said that the people didn’t question his word for one minute. And there was one old woman—I do hope she is still there. She fed Willie from her own cooking pot, even though there was scarcely enough for her own family. Willie was sure she herself must have gone without food numerous times. And the little children. Willie said they followed along behind him, curious as to what this strange white man was going to do. And then there was Andrew. That was not his African name. That was the name Willie gave to him after he became a Christian. He was Willie’s only convert. I can hardly wait to meet Andrew.”
    Camellia’s letter went on, but I couldn’t continue reading for the moment. It was some time before my eyes were dry enough to see the words on the page. If I missed Willie this much, I couldn’t imagine what the loss was like for Camellia.
    Camellia wrote about not wanting to leave her mother all alone. Then she chided herself. Of course her mother would not be alone—she had the same Lord with her who would be with Camellia on the mission field.
    “You’ve always been such a dear friend, Josh, to both Willie and me. I appreciate your friendship now more than ever. And I can never thank you enough for helping with my support so I can go to Africa as Willie and I had planned. I pray for you daily. May God bless you, Josh, and grant to you the desires of your heart, whatever or whoever that might be.”
    Camellia had underscored “whoever,” and I could picture her face with the teasing gleam in her eyes as I read the little message. I felt an emptiness inside of me. Would there ever be anyone else who would take the place of Camellia in my heart? I pushed the thought aside. Camellia was headed for Africa, and for some reason, still a mystery to me, God had chosen for me to stay on the farm.
    I read the last paragraph again. “May God bless you, Josh, and grant to you the desires of your heart, whatever—”
    I stopped there. I had come into town to check on the Ford again. As my eyes traveled back over the pages of Camellia’s letter, the idea of a motor car paled in comparison.
    “Lord,” I admitted in a simple prayer, “I’ve got things a bit out of perspective. We need a car. I’ve weighed the purchase this way and that way, and for all involved it seems like the right move—but help me, Lord, not to get too wrapped up in it. A car is, after all, just a way to get places. These people— these Africans of Camellia’s—they are eternal souls. Brothers. Remind me to spend more time in prayer for them as Camellia goes to minister the gospel to them.”
    I carefully folded Camellia’s letter and tucked it in an inside pocket. I didn’t even bother to go on down the street