Matthew's Legacy Chapter One

I t started with a dream. The dream was of moving to a remote area in Montana and running a ranch. My husband and I were separated and I wanted to get away from all the memories that surrounded me at the farm we had started together.

After searching for a ranch and finding what seemed to be the perfect place, I traveled by train to a little town in Northern Montana. True, there were days of bitter cold in the winter, but on paper, it looked perfect.

After a long and uneventful ride, I stepped off the train and into the wide-open expanse of Montana. In the distance the silhouette of a windmill rose from the horizon. Its paddles turned on a wind that carried the scent of rain.

I had called the owners of the ranch a month before and arranged to see it. My ride was to pick me up at the station, but I did not see anyone matching the foreman’s description. Pleased to have a chance relax and soak in the town's atmosphere before the ride to the ranch, I took a seat in front of the station.

In many ways the small town reminded me of the community I grew up in. Men and women called out to one another as they passed. Their greetings ranged from the simple nod of the head, to a quick wave, to the happy hellos between friends. Several of the locals nodded or waved as they passed me.

Slowly, as the peace around me sank in, I began to relax. I closed my eyes when the sun peeked through the clouds, enjoying the warmth of its rays on my face, and in doing so fell asleep.

While I slept I dreamed of my sheep back at the farm. In the dream I was sitting with my husband. We were watching the lambs jump and play as we often did before things began to fall apart. My Siamese cat was in my lap, a yellow tabby was in his and the sheep dog was lying between us. A melodic voice pulled me from my dream.

I opened my eyes and tried to make sense of where I was. As I woke more fully, I remembered where I was and why I was there. I felt sadness descend upon me and I realized the voice that woke me was still speaking. While I struggled to put my thoughts in order, I saw that the man in front of me was tall and slender with the build of a man that works outdoors for a living. He had dark hair, near black eyes, and skin bronzed by the sun and wind.

The expression in his eyes finally reached me. The look he gave me was one that combined worry with laughter, giving him a rather quizzical expression. I must have laughed, because the worried look gave way to a beautiful, much relieved, smile. The smile lit his face as the sun lights up a dark and dreary day, and having much the same effect on me. Where only moments before I felt sadness, I now felt joy.

Smiling back at him, I realized that he was Matthew, the foreman, and my ride. I laughed and apologized for falling asleep; admitting to him that between the long train ride, the warmth of the sun, the cool breeze and the pleasantries of the town people, I had succumbed to several weeks of fatigue. At my confession, he laughed aloud, reaching down and picking up my duffel bag.

When he grinned at the silly fish print on the bag, my sadness returned. I remembered picking out the green fish print fabric, and how much my maritime husband had loved it. Giving myself a mental shake, I whispered, “Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past.”¹ I met the question in his eyes with a smile and stood up.

As I stretched the kinks out of my body, his laughing smile made me realize that I was in a public place and with a stranger. Feeling the blood rush to my face, I couldn't help but wonder what kind of first impression I was giving him. The feeling was especially unnerving as I remembered that he was the person that I would be working along side of for the next month.

He led me to a 1970’s model Chevy truck that was worn and tattered. I managed not to laugh at the questioning look he gave me because I knew it well. When I told him that I liked the truck he gave me an odd look and half way shook his head. I laughed, then admitted driving an old truck that was probably a little more tattered than the one we were getting into. He stashed my bag in the bed and asked if I needed to pick up anything from the local store before leaving. When I said no, he climbed into the driver’s seat and reached over to open the passenger door. Once we were seated, he headed out of town to the ranch.

As we rode, I considered the enormous decision I was making. I wondered how the sheep and goats were doing and worried about them a little, even though I knew that they would be well taken care of in my absence. I watched the fields of gold we were passing. It was so flat here, unlike home with its green hills and valleys.

I returned to the present when Matthew asked me what I thought of Montana. Laughing, I told him that it was beautiful. He asked me about my home in the Carolinas, and wanted to know how it differed from what I was seeing in Montana. Realizing that he was serious, I told him about my home, about the green hills and valleys. I described the abundance of trees in the area I lived in and the creeks and springs that ran on my farm.

I told him about a dead tree on the edge of my driveway that broke off in a high wind and how it was covered with lichen and wood duck holes. At his inquisitive look I attempted to explain why I felt that I needed to leave it there. How the bareness of it’s leafless, limbless form gave me hope each time I saw it. The many lichens growing on it representing the hope that springs from despair. The insects showing how without death there would be no life, and the pock marked wood proving that life goes on even in the face of destruction. Matthew smiled at my descriptions, and then he told me a little about the area we were driving through.

He nodded towards the sun kissed fields and told me they were wheat fields; then he explained how some of the more southern fields had already been harvested, and how the fields we were passing would be harvested in the near future. As I listened to him, I realized that he loved this land and that he appreciated the simple miracles that took place each day.

I asked him if he grew up in the area. He said that he had, but that he was gone for 16 years while he served the country with a stint in the Army and that he had only been back in Montana for a little over 3 years. It was then I noticed the scars on his face and realized that he was probably older than I would first have thought.

I think he must have realized that I saw the scars as soon as I noticed them. I could feel him flinch, then draw away. I smiled, and told him that my father went to war and he too came home with scars, but his scars were on the inside and came from seeing his buddies die. We rode in silence for a while both thinking thoughts of the past.

I discovered, with a start, that the sun was setting. The sky turned shades of gold, pink and orange. Once the sun began to sink below the horizon, the dusky hues of night began to creep across the fields and into the sky. One by one twinkling stars began to come out, faint at first, but brighter as the sky darkened. Suddenly, it was night, and I was out on the plains of Montana with all God's Majesty and a man I'd just met.

I closed my eyes and put my head back fighting off tears of fatigue and sorrow. Feeling lost and alone I pulled my jacket a little closer around me and began to pray for strength to get through the sadness that was settling around me, fogging my mind as it sapped my strength away. Beside me, I heard Matthew speak, his voice breaking through the fog of my mind. I realized that he was singing. I held my breath as I listened to that soothing voice as it sang:

Draw thou my soul, O Christ, Closer to Thine

Breathe into every wish Thy will divine!

Raise my low self above, Won by Thy deathless love;

Ever, O Christ, through mine let Thy life shine.

Lead forth my soul, O Christ, One with thine own,

Joyful to follow Thee Through paths unknown!

In Thee my strength renews; Give me my work to do!

Through me Thy truth be shown, Thy love made known.

Not for myself alone May my prayer be;

Lift Thou Thy world, O Christ, Closer to Thee!

Cleanse it from guilt and wrong; Teach it salvation’s song,

Till earth, as heaven, fulfill God’s holy will.

A-MEN*

I was unfamiliar with the song, but it struck a cord deep within me. I wondered at the man beside me, wondered what sorrows that radiant smile covered and wondered why he chose to sing that particular song. Opening my eyes, I turned to look at him in the darkness.

His profile looked both young and ageless, speaking of sorrow and of strength. At my movement, he looked over and asked if he had disturbed me. Finding that my voice did not want to work I shook my head. When I realized that he couldn’t see me shaking my head, I laughed. With the laugh my voice came back. I told him how much I enjoyed listening to him and asked him what the name of the song was, telling him that the words had touched me.

He told me that St. Edmund wrote the song and that it was called “Draw Thou My Soul, O Christ”. With a soft smile, he admitted that the song had been his Grandmother’s favorite, before telling me that he often sang while he drove.

While I listened to him talk, I noticed that he was as tired as I was and wondered how much longer it would be before we reached the ranch. As though he heard my thoughts, he spoke to tell me that we were almost there and then turned the truck up the next side road, which lead to the ranch.

We drove another few miles before he turned onto the drive that lead to the ranch. In the distance I could see the lights from the house and the silhouettes of the other buildings. Driving to the back of the barn containing my quarters he stopped the truck and stepped out.

Reaching into the bed of the truck, he got my bag, and then opened the door to the small room that would be mine for the next month. As I stepped inside and he stepped back outside I thanked him for the ride. Without thinking, I wished him the good night that I always wish my close friends. I realized that I had told him not to let the bedbugs bite when I saw the startled look on his face, I felt like hiding in a hole somewhere. Instead, I closed the door and turned to look at the room.

There was a long twin sized bed against the back wall, a small closet to the left of the bed and a small chest of drawers by the door. To the right of the bed was a nightstand that was sitting on the end of a braided rug. To the right of the nightstand was a heavy, over sized wooden chair with well worn, overstuffed cushions. Deciding that unpacking could wait, I turned to the chest by the door and unclipped my scarf.

Putting the scarf and the clips on the dresser along with the bands that held my braid, I began my nightly ritual of unbraiding and brushing my hair then dressing for bed. Afterwards, I sat down, opened my Bible to Psalms 30, and read:

¹ I will extol thee, O LORD; for thou hast lifted me up, and hast not made my foes to rejoice over me. ² O LORD my God, I cried unto thee, and thou hast healed me. ³ O LORD, thou hast brought up my soul from the grave: thou hast kept me alive, that I should not go down to the pit. ⁴ Sing unto

the LORD, O ye saints of his, and give thanks at the remembrance of his holiness. ⁵ For his anger endureth but a moment; in his favor is life: weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning. ⁶ And in my prosperity I said, I shall never be moved. ⁷ LORD, by thy favor thou

hast made my mountain to stand strong: thou didst hide thy face, and I was troubled. ⁸ I cried to thee, O LORD; and unto the LORD I made supplication. ⁹ what profit is there in my blood when I go down to the pit? shall the dust praise thee? shall it declare thy truth? ¹⁰ Hear, O LORD, and have mercy upon me: LORD be thou my helper. ¹¹ Thou hast turned

for me my mourning into dancing: thou hast put off my sackcloth, and girded me with gladness; ¹² To the end that my glory may sing praise to

thee, and not be silent. O LORD my God, I will give thanks unto thee

forever.

As always, Psalms lifted my spirits and made me thankful for my blessings. Closing my eyes, I prayed for the situation at home, my husband and friends. I praised God for his goodness and my safe arrival. Rejoicing in the beauty of his creation and thanking him for such a pleasant trip.

Turning back the bed, I climbed in and was asleep as soon as my eyes shut.

Psalm 139:22-23 Search me, O God, and know my heart; Try me and know my

anxious thoughts; And see if there be any hurtful way in me, And lead me in the

everlasting way.

1^”Isaiah 43:18-19

Author's Note

I'm sure the paragraph breaks are in the wrong places in this as it is a quick copy and paste.