They walked into the kitchen and began the nightly ritual of washing up. Katherine got out a dish towel and leaned on the counter by the sink while she waited to dry the first dish.
“It’s odd that Tommy walked right in without his mother. I suppose it’s all right because she was nearby, but she never even noticed when he came into the shop. When I was little, my parents wouldn’t have dreamed of losing track of me long enough to slip into a shop by myself and have a chat with a shopkeeper they’d never met.”
“How did you like growing up here?” asked Miss Harriet.
“Oh, I loved it.” Katherine answered with a happy smile “We would spend summer days on the beach, walking up and down, gathering all sorts of little shells and pretty rocks. Sometimes we would even find sea glass, although that was pretty rare. I loved the freedom, the light, and in the fall and winter, I loved the storms. I used to stand by my window and watch the waves crash over each other out in the harbor. We could see it from our house, you know, and we would gauge the changing of the seasons by the color of the water.”
“It sounds like you had a lovely childhood” Miss Harriet said, handing Katherine another dish to dry.
“I did. But, then again, it was the only childhood I knew. I never thought to compare it with other peoples’ childhoods. But then, we left, and nothing was ever the same.”
“And why did you leave?” Miss Harriet asked gently.
“Christmas night, we were all in the living room when the phone rang. My father went to answer it, and Mom and I knew right away something was wrong. Dad’s face turned a funny grey color, and he rushed up to my attic room, where we could see over the trees and houses towards the harbor. We ran upstairs and found him staring out the window. The mill had caught fire, and we could see the flames in the distance.” Katherine took a deep breath before continuing.
“It was a terrible tragedy for the whole community, and many people lost their jobs, not just my dad. But when we had to move, it felt like my whole world had disappeared. We went from our lovely house with the view of the harbor to an apartment in the city with a view of a grimy brick wall. Then Mom had to take a job, and there just never seemed to be anyone at home. I was old enough to understand why we needed to move, why my parents both had to spend so much time at work, but it didn’t change the fact that I felt so…abandoned.”
Both ladies worked silently for a while, then Miss Harriet said softly,
“You know I grew up in England, but did I ever tell you about my childhood?” Katherine shook her head eagerly, inwardly preparing for a good story. All Miss Harriet’s stories were captivating, and Katherine always loved to listen to her tell them in her lilting accent.
“I grew up in a little village in Surrey, England. I spent my childhood there, much as you spent yours here, only instead of the shore, we wandered the hills, and brought back treasures from the fields and streams.
I thought we were the happiest of families, my parents, my brother and I. We lived in a beautiful little cottage, with just the smallest little patch of a front garden. Despite its size, Mother had managed to plant a variety of flowers, so that it seemed to be perpetually bright and fragrant. Just as you marked your seasons by the harbor, I marked mine by those flowers.” Here she paused, as if savoring the memory of that long-lost flower garden.
“Is that why you fill your shop with flowers?” Katherine asked with a smile.
“Perhaps…Yes, I suppose it must be. I had never thought about it that way.” After another pause, Miss Harriet continued somberly. “When I was still but a little bit of a girl, my father left quite suddenly. I remember seeing him at dinner one night, and the next night it was just us three, my brother and I not really understanding that Papa had gone for good, and Mother trying so bravely to keep us from the sickening shock of it.”
“Oh, how awful!”
“Yes. It was. But Mother was so wonderful. She never complained, never spoke ill of Papa before us. But she didn’t excuse him, either. She took a job to support us and came home each evening tired, but determined to be the mother we needed her to be. I can only imagine how exhausting it must have been for her. But she had such strength.”
“And she really never said anything bad about your father?” Katherine asked, astonished.
“No, never. But I know that she did pour out her sorrow and hurt to the only One who could heal them. When we went to bed each night, she would go to her room and kneel by her bed. Then she would pray, lifting up her heart, and sometimes her voice, although she did try to be careful not to disturb us. I only know about it because I would often hear her muffled sobs and creep to the door to check on her. My brother never dared, but I just had to.
“’I would stand softly outside in the hallway while she cried, voicing her hushed words of grief and pain to God alone. But then, her pain and grief would give way to words of forgiveness and pleas on behalf of the man who had so wronged her, abandoning her and leaving her to care for two small children who just couldn’t understand why Papa would have gone away.
“Once these prayers of forgiveness began, her sobs would gradually begin to subside, and I knew she would be all right. I would then go back to bed, stopping on the way to reassure my brother. Then, we went to sleep feeling secure, certain that it would all come out right somehow, because Mother was praying.”
“And… did he ever come back?” Katherine asked.
“No, we never saw him again—but don’t you think for a moment that it made the rest of my childhood dreary. You see, because Mother handled the whole thing so splendidly, we were surrounded by love and concern, and had the attitude of forgiveness and hope fostered in us. We prayed every day for Papa, that God would protect him and bring him home safe one day, and we were taught to pray those prayers in a tone of love and from a heart full of longing to forgive and to restore. Our home was never a place of anger, bitterness, or despair. No matter how hard things got, Mother just never gave up.
“The whole village rallied around us, and it seemed as if every old lady thought it their responsibility to mother us while our own dear mother was at work. We were well-fed, well-petted, and well-scolded when we did wrong. In all, we were surrounded by people who loved and cared for us, so that we never had reason to feel sorry for ourselves—except we did often wish that Mother didn’t have to work and could have spent time with us like our friends’ mothers did. But even so, she would make the time she did spend with us so special. She always had some treat planned, whether a simple picnic, or a walk in the twilight, or just reading a book to us. What a good mother she was!” Another long pause followed, in which Miss Harriet seemed engulfed in visions of the past. Then with a deep breath, a quick shrug, and a gentle smile, she brought herself back to the present and resumed her task of scrubbing the plates.
“She’s still alive, you know”, she continued brightly. “She lives with my brother in one of the larger villages, not too far from the hills we so loved to wander as children. My brother takes good care of her, and I call her up a couple times a week just to chat.”
****
When Katherine climbed the stairs to her apartment that night, she took with her a heart and mind full to the brim. She couldn’t fathom the kind of love and devotion that could cause someone to forgive an offender who never changed or asked for forgiveness.
As she contemplated all this, it occurred to her just how much her own parents had sacrificed to give her the peaceful, stable childhood she had enjoyed and how much she had taken for granted their presence in her life all those years.
Katherine closed the apartment door, picked up her phone, and stood frozen for a moment, a torrent of feelings raging against itself inside her. She knew what she needed to do. Part of her even wanted to do it, but struggled against letting down her guard, even a little. Finally, she took a deep breath and dialed.
“Mom? Yes, it’s me. I’m fine. I ended up staying in Harborhaven. Yes, I’m working at a tea shop. I just…” She gulped back the flood of emotions that threatened to steal her voice, “I… I wanted to say thank you, for… for everything, I guess.”
9 Cliff Top Memories
It was Saturday. Katherine had the day off, for which she was glad, although she always wondered at Miss Harriet’s choice to work the busiest day of the week all by herself.
“It’s mostly just tea and scones anybody wants on Saturdays, and besides, I need the reminder of what a rush every day was before you came. It keeps me grateful.”
Katherine had her suspicions that perhaps one reason for Miss Harriet’s generosity in making Saturday her day off was really because she secretly enjoyed the challenge of the Saturday rush and wanted an excuse to be out among the people more than she would have with Katherine there to wait tables.
This particular Saturday, the weather was fine, and Katherine decided to take her library book and a few scones and go looking for a good place to read outdoors. Miss Harriet thought this a wonderful idea, and insisted on adding a small thermos of tea and a couple sandwiches, “In case you find you’re hungrier than you think you’ll be.”
Katherine stepped out onto the sidewalk and looked up into the lofty blue of the sky. It was cool enough for a sweater, but walking would warm her, and as the sun climbed higher, it would be just right for sitting and reading outside.
Now, she thought, Where shall I walk to?
