The Heart of Rue - A Modern-Day Story of the Book of Ruth

Two

Two

So Naomi returned, and Ruth the Moabitess, her daughter in law, with her, which returned out of the country of Moab: ~Ruth 1:22

A Fresh Start

A Month Later . . .

Hooper, Utah

Drying the last of the lunch dishes, I put them away and look around the kitchen, wanting to make sure everything is in its place, though with the sparseness surrounding me, it isn't very hard to do. We have done our best to whip the old farmhouse back into shape, but with no money for extra décor or other niceties, the place still displays a sort of blandness that will just have to do for the moment. On the other hand, the four-bedroom home is clean, warmed by the spring and summer-time temperatures of late May. And thanks to the barrels of oats, jars of bottled fruit, and a few other food items the family had left in the cellar beneath the kitchen when they moved to Savannah, we are not starving. Yet. The bussing job I acquired a few weeks ago provides enough in tips to take care of the utilities and keep gas in the car, but not much else beyond a bit of dairy and a few vegetables from the grocery store–and that is only when I have a good night.

When we first arrived at the house, my heart had lightened a little as I scanned the grounds and the well-kept lawn. The inside of the house was dusty, the scent of age and abandonment wafting through the rooms as the air stirred from human presence after so long. Yellowed curtains covered the windows and there were a few pieces of furniture left–a bed and a dresser in two of the bedrooms (both of which had an attached bathroom), an old rust-brown leather couch and chair and large wooden coffee table in the living room, a square antique kitchen table with four chairs, a large floral painting over the gray stone fireplace, and a washer in the laundry room just beyond the kitchen. Other than these few things, the house was bare, but I was grateful, for the Lord had preserved it, as if He'd known we would come here one day, and indeed He had.

That afternoon, we had knelt in prayer, thanking the Lord for our safe journey and for blessing us with comfortable shelter. Then we went to work on the place.

While Nala washed and hung the curtains out to dry, I swept and mopped the hardwood floors, dusted and cleaned the cupboards and countertops, vacuumed the cobwebs from the corners, and cleaned the bathrooms. Opening all the windows, we aired out the house, vacuumed the mattresses, then made the beds with the bedding we'd brought with us and filled the dresser drawers with our clothes. While Nala napped, I put away the few dishes and kitchen items we'd brought with us, plugged in the fridge, and wiped it out, though there was nothing to cool at the moment. Then I happily took stock of the food in the cellar: Ten buckets of oats, five buckets of rice, a case of green beans, a case of corn, ten buckets of wheat (fortunately, there was a grinder as well,) three cases of bottled fruit, and a twenty-pound sack of dried potatoes. I was grateful we wouldn't starve. Still, I knew it wouldn't last long and I would need to find work.

Satisfied with the inside of the house, I went out and swept the long front porch and washed down the three white rockers, determined to do all I could to make the old house a home once again.

"We will be happy here," I had murmured as I laid down that night to sleep.

And now, here we are, I muse, settled and learning to lean on the Lord to provide for us.

Nala grabs her wide-brimmed hat and gloves, intending to spend some time out in the small garden out back. It seems there are a few things growing that had still been coming up on a regular basis these past years, and she has done well at bringing the garden back to life. Tending the garden is one of the few things that brings a smile to her face these days.

"Will you try contacting your nephew again today?" I ask her as she opens the back door. I had kept my cell phone since the rate was so low, and I leave it with Nala whenever I go in to work, just in case there is an emergency or she needs to reach me at the café.

"Probably not. I've left a couple of messages. He said he would stop by as soon as he got back in town. Got to be hard work opening up a business in another city."

"I'm sure it is," I agree. Straightening the collar of my yellow polo, I tuck it into my jeans, grab my purse, apron, and hat and hug her gently. "I'll see you later, Mom."

She smiles slightly. "I'll be here. Hopefully, you can bring back something good."

"It's all good," I say, thinking about the manager's kindness to me. Since all the food on the menu is made fresh daily, she let's me take a little of whatever is left over. None of my fellow employees know. Having gotten to know Katherine during my first week there, I had been open about my situation, and she had been understanding without making me feel shame. Hers is a compassionate heart.

"I'll see what the Lord provides," I murmur, closing the front door behind me.