The Treasure of Netherstrand

Chapter 29

Arthur waited expectantly. Like clockwork, at exactly five in the morning, he knew he would hear tapping footsteps walk up to the library door. Then a happy little face would peek in. Soon enough, the door swung wide open, and Arthur looked up from his book to give his eager student a smile.

Oh, life! Little by little, it was coming back to the doctor's discouraged heart. Every morning, it began with a sight of Timothy's innocent, happy face. The bright-eyed orphan was the only joy Arthur found in his day. Timothy gave him a reason to plan and dream and hope again. He was the only reason the gentleman found to make his troubled thoughts end at night so he could rest and wake up early to teach his pupil the next morning.

Timothy flew into the room without any reservations. He took the young man's smile as a welcome and climbed onto his friend's knees with confidence.

"Mornin', Arthur!" he greeted. "I learnt me lessons real well yesterday! I thought about 'em over an' over till I'm sure I'll never forget 'em! An' while I was a-waitin' for Mary t' give me a chore yesterday, I drew all me letters in the flour she'd scattered on the table!"

"Did you?" the man asked exuberantly. The happiness on Tim's face made Arthur glad to be alive, glad to be the one who could share in the child's joy of learning. The lad nodded his head and then wrote all of his letters down on paper for his teacher to see.

"An' I still remember everyfing you told me about the garden plants yesterday! Will we go to the garden again?"

"No, I think not. Today, I have something new to show you; something I am sure you have never seen before!"

A few minutes later, Tim was bouncing along beside the man on their way outside. A gust of wind met them as they left Netherstrand behind and stepped out onto the soft sandy beach. They both took a deep breath of that wet, salty air and enjoyed its touch.

"Didn't God make a nice day today?" The words came singing out of Timothy's lips before he remembered who he was speaking to. Then he gave Arthur a questioning glance.

The man smiled down at him. "It is a beautiful day," he answered. "Do you know why the wind is so strong this morning?"

"No," the child answered with interest.

"It is blowing in a storm."

Timothy smiled in excitement. "I like storms so long as they ain't too nasty an' cold! But, Arthur, can ya tell me somefing? Once, you said that the wind comes from hot air mixin' wiv cold. But, where does the wind go?

"A good question," Arthur laughed. "I wish I knew! The wind seems to have a mind of its own. It travels in many directions, sometimes swirling here and sometimes bending there. It can be as soft as a whisper, or it can be as strong as a hurricane." The young man gave his best scientific explanation on why the wind does what it does, and Timothy listened very intently until he was finished.

"D'ya know what I fink?" he asked at last, catching little crabs on the sand as he talked. "I fink the wind goes wherever God wants it to. An' I fink whenever he likes, the wind stops blowin' an' waits real patiently till he says t' start up again."

"That's a very fascinating thought," the unbeliever said in a kindly tone. Then, more to himself than to Timothy, he added, "But to think and to know are very different things."

Tim's faithful words hit a rock wall against Arthur's heart. They always did. And every time it happened, the little boy felt disappointed. But that disappointment only challenged him to try harder to convince his friend that he really did know God.