“What is it that you are supposed to tell me, Mr. Berkshire?”
He looked at her oddly for a moment, and then his brows drew together. “I didn’t realize my appearance was so predictable.”
“As I said earlier, I presumed that you had come with a purpose. After all, you aren’t on good terms with my cousin, and our residence is hardly on a direct road from yours, if the college is the final destination.”
“Well, the fact of the matter is that Mr. Lakewood is concerned about you and your friends. He fears that your plans are going to give people a negative opinion of the college. He wanted me to speak to you because, well, he thought perhaps you didn’t appreciate his position.”
“In what way?”
“He is considerably older, and I am closer to your own age.” He smiled and shrugged. “He thought perhaps you would appreciate my thoughts on the matter. He said he worried that you looked upon him as nothing more than a worried father figure.”
Faith couldn’t suppress a laugh. “No, I saw him as an unfeeling bigot.”
Berkshire’s eyes widened, and he began to cough. Faith waited until the shock passed.
“You see, Mr. Berkshire, I grew up with Native people, as my parents were missionaries to the Tututni tribe of the Rogue River Indians. They were good people, Mr. Berkshire, and I learned a great deal while with them. Then the whites came and killed many of them and rounded the rest up to take to the Grand Ronde Reservation. Many died during the forced march, and many others died because there were never enough medical supplies or medicine. When the Storm King came through our land and stripped away people’s possessions up and down the coast of Oregon and Washington, Grand Ronde suffered too. My friends and I only desire to ease the discomfort of those who have nothing. We want to honor the Bible’s admonishment that we consider others as better than ourselves and love others as Christ loved us. We seek only to raise money to provide medicine and supplies for a people who have no chance to acquire those things for themselves.”
Berkshire looked at her for several long moments before speaking. “You must know that those people have no regard for you except a desire to see you dead. They might have called you friend once, but given all that has happened to them, they have grown to hate all whites—yourself included. The Indian men would see you as nothing more than a woman to be used.They would—excuse my bluntness—rape you and then most likely scalp you. They would not care at all that you wanted to love them as Christ loved others, because they have no understanding of who Christ is. They are heathens.”
“That is not true. Many of them accepted Jesus when my parents shared the gospel message. Many are accepting Him every day. My aunt and uncle are missionaries to the Indians. They have told me that many are willing to receive Jesus. They crave the truth and listen to the Bible eagerly. And even the ones who don’t accept Christ . . . it doesn’t mean they’re all violent.”
“Your aunt and uncle would of course say that. Their livelihood depends on it.”
Faith laughed. “Their livelihood? You think they are paid by the government or a particular church? They receive most of their support from our family. Too many men who think exactly as you do populate the churches and refuse to see the ministry as one called for by the Lord. Although, when the Bible says that we are to go and make disciples of all men—that we are to preach the gospel to all nations—I hardly see how they figure that excludes the Indians. But raising money amongst white churches for people of color is often frowned upon.”
“And well it should be. There are enough white people who have need that we should focus our attention on them first. We need to take care of our own people before worrying about theirs.”
The carriage came to a stop, and Faith shook her head and gathered her things. “You may tell Mr. Lakewood that we students plan to move ahead with our fundraiser even if we have to stand atop a soapbox on the street corner to do so.”
She climbed out of the carriage, shaking with anger. The audacity of these men to try to force her to walk away fromsomething she believed in. It wasn’t right, and she wasn’t going to stand for their interference.
“Just understand that you have been warned,” Berkshire said, following her out of the carriage. “Samuel Lakewood isn’t a man to suffer fools.”
She stopped and looked at him for a moment. She started to make a snide comment about that not being true, or Berkshire wouldn’t be in his company, but she held her tongue.
“You may tell Mr. Lakewood whatever you deem necessary, but I won’t be bullied. I don’t need his permission, and my friends and I have already changed the venue, so he needn’t fear his dear college’s reputation will be damaged because of our lecture.”
“This is madness, Miss Kenner. Lakewood, once driven to a thing, will not simply drop the matter without making an example of someone. In this case, it will most likely be you who suffers.”
“Then that’s the way I suppose it will be.” She smiled. “I trust that God is able to keep that which I have committed to Him. Mr. Lakewood will merely be a thorn in my flesh. Nothing more. And, as with Paul in the Bible, God’s grace for me shall be sufficient.”
CHAPTER16
Ijust wanted you all to be fully aware of the threats against us,” Faith told her gathering of friends.
“Well, we have changed the location of the lecture, and our speaker, Mr. Peabody, has been informed. Mr. Singleton wasn’t able to come after all. We’ve got just two days left, and surely in that time we can persuade Mr. Lakewood to change his mind,” Malcolm declared. “I will go and speak to him myself. Maybe a man-to-man discussion will help him see reason.”
“You are welcome to try, but I have my doubts.” Faith knew enough about Lakewood to know that he wouldn’t allow a group of ragtag students to best him.
After classes that day, Faith handed out flyers downtown and encouraged people to join them for Mr. Peabody’s lecture.
“He is quite knowledgeable about the Pacific Northwest Indians, in particular the Chinook, Alsea, and Haida. He lived and worked with them for over twenty years,” she told a group of men as she thrust a flyer into the closest man’s hands.
“The lecture is also a fundraiser for the Indians at the Grand Ronde Reservation. They suffered greatly from the storm.”
“Pity it didn’t kill them all,” one of the men declared.
Faith frowned. “Would you say such things if our Lord were here to hear you? Because I assure you that He does hear and knows your heart.”
