Eleven

Lithograph
Jesus, Lover of my Soul

In the hubbub that followed, the others in the room did not notice Orval quietly walking to the kitchen, then out the back door. He had some thinking to do. Although he knew this day would come, it was now a reality. Orval was at a crossroad.

John would soon be on his way to St. Louis, Jay was regularly absent to perform farm labor, and now it was official Jennie had grand plans. He pondered a moment.

Chillicothe was a place where he had opportunities still. There always seemed to be painting and wallpapering, and he was building up regular clientele.

But the town held painful memories.

His wife Willie was gone. He heard she found her way to California. Could she possibly have gone further away from him?

Columbia was where he could be more anonymous, away from small-minded people who looked down their noses and judged. It angered him how this affected his daughter. She never let on, but he knew some of the slights coming her way squarely laid on his own shoulders.

It did not matter to them he once entered into battle in a foreign land. Or lost a wife who left four small children behind, one of them dying soon thereafter. If you did not grow up in Chillicothe with two Christian, churchgoing parents living in a lovely home, you barely stood a chance there.

But Jennie made the best of it, as she always did. She studied, tutored, was faithful at the Methodist church.

If there was a constant in her life, it was the church. Wherever she lived—the Laclede countryside, Chillicothe, Columbia—Jennie soon had the love and respect of her fellow church members.

Orval never quite fit in with the church crowd. They, too—despite urging to love their neighbors and not judge—turned their backs. At least it seemed so to him, though Jennie tried many times to convince him otherwise.

Columbia? Or Chillicothe?

Inside the dwelling, Jennie ushered Aunt Ella to the bedroom the two were going to share. John brought in Ella’s satchel, placing it at the end of the bed. Ella looked around, and spying a chair to sit in, plunked down sideways upon it. “Ahhh!! Better!”

The chair was at the desk, and Ella squared herself to face it properly.

Jennie May Stark

“This is a very nice photo of you Jennie.” Aunt Ella was examining a framed photograph on Jennie’s desk. “I wonder—have you ever had a photograph as an adult without your glasses? Or would you consider one?”

Jennie turned slowly from plumping the pillows to face her aunt.

“Auntie, I am nearly blind without my glasses. They are a part of who I am. It would be like posing naked. Au naturel.”

“Well, surely I am not the first to let you know how very beautiful you are. It is just that with the glasses on, your eyes appear enormous. As though you had magnifying glasses in front of them.”

Jennie touched the back of Ella’s straight chair before seating herself upon the bed. She heaved a sigh, her shoulders raising and lowering.

“Auntie, I know you mean well. You are the first to express to me what I am certain others have thought. But beauty fades, and I want people to instead consider my better qualities.”

Ella knew to drop the subject, but she wished her niece truly realized her outer beauty which did not overshadow her inner beauty. She felt… well, it did not matter. She spied a different photograph, one of a group of women.

“Jennie, what is this one? Who are these ladies?”

“Those are the members of Alpha Phi Sigma, a service organization made up mostly of girls who live in town rather than board with the school. We make and box up clothing and nice little things for widows and orphans. I am in charge of writing the notes which go into the boxes, adding a personal touch.”

Jennie Stark
2nd Row
Fourth from Left

“Well, that is a lovely outfit you are wearing in this one!”

“I’m wearing it on Thursday for the baccalaureate service.”

“That hat is divine!”

Jennie paused. She was uncertain how she would explain wearing the hat someone lent her.

“I am glad you like it.”

Miss Liza Martin was a lady who shared Jennie’s passion about temperance. She often attended the same Women’s Christian Temperance Union meetings Jennie frequented. She knew of Jennie’s limited resources when she inquired several weeks ago what outfits Jennie would wear for the various photographs being taken for the yearbook. Jennie told her that for the sorority photo, she would wear the outfit she had worn to church the prior Sunday.

“Oh, I have the perfect hat to go with that!”

Liza had a way of offering help which never embarrassed the receiver. It was as though you would be insulting her if you refused. So, the next day, she brought by “the perfect hat” to Jennie’s residence. She had inquired of Jennie her address, and as with anything Liza asked, Jennie gave it to her, but worried about her friend seeing how she lived. However, she should have known her friend never outwardly judged, but simply took a genuine concern.

It was beneficial for Jennie to have a friend with considerable wealth who could be in a position to help, not because of anything Liza could do for her, but to have someone as an example of how to best use her resources. Jennie sometimes struggled, deep down, with resentment for those she thought “had more.” Not just monetarily, but those with two parents and a loving home; a mother who doted on you, even a mother who criticized. No, criticism would not be good…

Jennie’s thoughts returned to the present.

“Auntie, thank you for your compliment. The hat is on loan from a dear friend. I shall return it to her after this weekend.”

Jennie suspected her friend would refuse the return of the hat, thinking of some reason Jennie should keep it. That is, she hoped this was true. Then immediately was upset with herself that she had such a vain thought.

“Auntie, I am wondering… Would you like a tour of the campus? This is your first time here, correct?”

“Jennie, I have been to Columbia before, but I would very much enjoy a small tour. I have not been on campus before.”

“Then, after a nice breakfast, off we will go!” A thought occurred to Jennie. “Auntie, will walking the couple of miles to campus be too much?”

“I understand there is a livery nearby and previously asked your father to make arrangements to have a nice little buggy for us to have for the day. And for each day until Monday when I must depart.”

When Jennie was about to protest, Aunt Ella continued. “You should know that your grandparents gave me adequate funds to ensure their granddaughter feels like a princess.” She reconsidered her words. “I mean, like a revered scholar. At any rate, please know that anything I offer this weekend is done so freely.”

Jennie’s eyes welled.

“There, there, niece. You have worked so hard for so long in your life. For at least a weekend, you should revel, for you have earned it!”

Jennie arose and hugged Auntie about the neck. She could not speak. But eventually, she let go, as she would a kitten who struggled from a loving grip. Aunt Ella was not used to extended displays of affection, and Jennie rarely gave them. But she silently took her aunt’s hand and led her to the kitchen. There, the two were surprised to find an assortment of breads and fruits laid out, with a note.

“Sister, daughter, I thought you might enjoy an evening snack. I am off to run some errands, including arranging for the buggy. I hope to return by the time you finish eating these. –Orval.”

Lithograph
The Book of Cheer