“I guess so. It just brought back lots of memories from my childhood, and I’m not sure what to make of them yet.”

Silence reigned for a few moments more, then Miss Harriet asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Katherine looked up at her friend and smiled weakly. “No, not yet. As you always say, ‘sometimes all the world needs is a good nap to set it right’. I think a good night’s sleep is all I need—but thank you, anyway.”

Miss Harriet returned her smile and said, “Anytime, my dear, anytime at all.” She handed the last dish to Katherine and said in a brighter tone, “Well, then. I suppose you’d better get on up to bed. I’ll finish up in here. Pick you up in the morning for church?”

Katherine nodded. “Of course. I’ll be ready by eight-thirty.”

She turned and walked up the stairs to the little apartment that had become her home. Then, closing the door behind her, she wandered listlessly over to the window seat and basked in the fading light. Her mind whirled with pictures of the past, of her home and family in Harborhaven. Oh, how her heart yearned to return to those days of peace and happiness!

Better get some rest before church tomorrow.

She reached up to close the curtain, but paused for one last lingering moment with her hand grasping the heavy folds of fabric. This was the time of year when she hated to close the windows at night. Everything stayed so beautifully luminous, even after dark. With a sigh, she twitched the curtains closed, then walked to her room where the small round window let in just a bit of the pale blue twilight.

As she lay in bed, trying to fall asleep, a memory surfaced—one she hadn’t thought about in years. She remembered the pink curtains of that long-ago attic room in Cliffton, and could see in her mind’s eye the familiar scene: her mother, coming in on such a night, pulling the covers up little closer to Katherine’s chin with a motherly caress, then walking soundlessly over to the large window to pull the curtains shut. She always left a little sliver through which the morning light would peep, so Katherine wouldn’t have to wake up in the dark. How young her mother looked in those memories! How young and lithe and unhurried! A tear trickled down Katherine’s cheek.

How can I be here, home in Harborhaven at last and still not be free from the misery of the past? If this can't free me, is there anything that can?

* * * *

The next morning, Katherine awoke to another sunny morning. She got up and dressed hurriedly for church, grabbing some leftover scones for breakfast from the kitchen downstairs.

She rode to church with Miss Harriet every Sunday, and knowing how her employer liked to be punctual, always tried to be careful not to make her late. This morning, however, she was ready a little early, so she sat at one of the tables by the door in the empty tea shop and basked in the soft sunlight which filtered through the lace curtains as she ate her breakfast.

Soon, she saw Miss Harriet’s little blue car pull up to the curb. She quickly locked the shop door and hurried out to the car. When she got in, Miss Harriet smiled happily.

“I see a rest did do you some good! I’m glad to see you a bit more chipper.”

Katherine blushed a little and smiled back. “I do feel a bit better this morning.”

They drove up the winding road which travelled around the edge of the harbor before turning inland towards the outskirts of Cliffton. Katherine always enjoyed the drive, and this morning it was particularly glorious, with all the beauty of a high blue sky reflected even bluer in the waters of the harbor. The leaves were just beginning to turn on the trees along the road, and Katherine wondered if anything could be more beautiful than Harborhaven in the autumn.

As they drove up to the church building, Katherine took a deep breath. Her visit to her childhood home had brought other memories to the surface, and although she had been to church many times since returning to Harborhaven, she had not experienced such a flood of memories and emotion as she did this morning.

The little white church with its hard wooden pews, smoothed by hundreds of years of use, and its tall old-fashioned belltower that still rang out on Sunday mornings to call the community in to worship was the same church she had attended with her parents as a child.

It was here she had gone to Sunday school all those years ago and heard for the first time that Jesus died to pay for her sin. It was here as a child she had prayed, asking Him to forgive her sins and be her Savior. It was here she had been baptized, and it was here she had learned so many truths that now seemed lost in the hazy far-off days of childhood.

As she walked up the steps and through the arched doorway, she remembered how it had looked the last service her family attended before they moved. They had sat in the back, looking around at the empty places on the pews where other families used to sit who had also moved away because of the fire. The pastor had looked so sad that day, as if bearing the hurt of the whole community on his own heart.

He had given her small hand a hearty squeeze as they said goodbye after the service, saying, “God will go with you, Katherine.” She had clung to that promise through the first dreadful year or so. Thinking back, she wondered exactly when she had let go of it.

Taking her place in the pew next to Miss Harriet, Katherine looked around, lost in memory. Soon, the service began, and she was brought back to the present by Miss Harriet’s voice singing along with the first hymn. She quickly reached for a hymnal and turned to the page Miss Harriet had opened to, searching to find her place.

When the pastor began the sermon, she got out her notebook and pen and determined to listen, instead of letting her mind wander back down the path of memory. He was reading from the book of Jeremiah.

“Thus saith the Lord, Stand ye in the ways, and see, and ask for the old paths, where is the good way, and walk therein, and ye shall find rest for your souls”

The pastor read on, but Katherine was lost in thought.

Rest. That’s what I want. Rest for my soul.

Silently, she began to pray, reading the verse again and letting its words sink deep into her aching heart.

As the two drove away from church after the service, Katherine asked timidly,

“Miss Harriet, what did the verse mean when it talked about the ‘old paths’?”

“Well, I have always taken that to mean the way God designed us to live. You see, Jeremiah was speaking to the people of Israel, who had strayed from following God, and had stopped obeying the things He had commanded. Through Jeremiah, God was inviting them to come back to Him, so He could give them rest.”

“So, if we do what the Bible says, we will find rest?”

Miss Harriet took a quick glance at Katherine’s face before answering. “I suppose that is essentially what that Jeremiah meant. Can I ask why that verse in particular stood out to you?”

Katherine hesitated. “Well, I guess I just don’t feel like I have that rest it was talking about.”

Miss Harriet considered for a few minutes before answering in a thoughtful tone, “Katherine, do you pray?”

“Well, not very much anymore.” Katherine admitted, a bit sheepishly.

“If I might be allowed to suggest it, that might be a good start down the ‘old paths’—that, and reading what the Bible says. After all, you can’t follow the old paths if you don’t know what they are. And Katherine, God does say we are to cast all our care on Him, because He cares for us.”

Katherine looked out the window and said quietly, “Might as well try…”

Her voice trailed off, and, although neither woman said a word aloud as they drove along, both were speaking silently to the One who could hear the cries of their hearts.

10 Miss Harriet at Home

“My, that was quite a day! Busy right through, and we had just enough of everything. There’s not a crumb left of what we cooked today.” Miss Harriet sat down in a chair with a sigh. “Now, then. Since there’s nothing left for your dinner… How about you come over to my place?”

Katherine looked up in surprise. “Well, I don’t want you to have to go to any trouble. I’m sure I can run out and get something.”

“Nonsense. It’s no trouble at all. I like having company, and I so seldom get to have anyone over. Besides,” Miss Harriet said with a wink, “you’re practically family, so I won’t feel I have to impress you.”

A grin spread over Katherine’s face. “All right, then! Just let me get my bag.”

Katherine ran up to her apartment, brimming with curiosity. She had never seen where Miss Harriet lived, and she was happy for the excuse to go out after a long day. She always seemed to feel refreshed after spending time with her employer, and to be spending the evening at her house seemed like such a treat!

The two got into Miss Harriet’s car and drove away from the downtown blocks which seemed to comprise nearly all of Katherine’s world nowadays. They drove along a curving stretch of road which followed the edge of the harbor, until they were right out at the tip, where sea and harbor met. There stood a small lighthouse, built like a box with a tower poking out the top. It had been freshly painted and well-preserved by the ever-so-conscientious Harborhaven Historical Society. Just down the road from the lighthouse the colorful rows of ocean-view houses began. Miss Harriet slowed as she entered the neighborhood and pulled into a narrow driveway.

Katherine thought Miss Harriet’s house was just like Miss Harriet herself. It was a prim and proper white Colonial, with bright shutters and an oval gable window. There was a tiny porch with a light pink swing. As they walked closer, Katherine noticed with a smile that the fabric pillows on the swing were of a pastel floral print. There was also a small white wicker table and a hanging basket of a flowering plant that released a dainty fragrance into the air as they brushed past.