“I’m glad that some of them are actually telling me how hungry they are,” Sister Ann was saying. “I’ll never again complain about the work associated with meals.”
“Where’s Judith?” Roman asked, placing his bag by the back door.
“She’s with the babies,” Sister Agnes said. “She said she wanted to give them a little extra love.”
Roman wasn’t surprised. In his short time of knowing Judith, he could easily tell her heart was quite tender. He went to the infant room and opened the door as quietly as possible. Inside, Judith sat in the middle of the room, humming and rocking Baby Boy 1.
He smiled at the sweet picture of motherly love. Judith looked up and met his gaze. It was only then that he noticed the tears on her cheeks.
“What’s wrong?” He moved closer.
Her expression was one of resignation. “He drew his last breath a few minutes ago. He’s safely in the arms of Jesus now.”
“The death of a child ... a baby is never easy to experience,” Roman said as he and Judith sat in the garden that evening.
“No, that is for certain.”
She’d been so quiet after the Sisters had taken the baby awayto prepare him for burial. Roman had thought she might say something on the ride back to the Ashton house, but instead she had withdrawn into her thoughts, and even Claudette couldn’t seem to bring her around.
Roman had taken his mother and sister home and cleaned up after leaving Judith at her grandfather’s house, but he couldn’t stop thinking about her. That was why he returned. He no longer cared that she was an Ashton, nor that she lived in a house probably built with profits from his father’s financial ruin.
As they sat in the growing twilight, Roman wanted only to offer her comfort and reassurance. “The poor little guy was just too weak. I think he was most likely born before his full term. He started life with a great disadvantage.”
“What happened to his mother?” Judith asked, her voice barely audible.
“Died giving him life. She was unmarried and had no family.”
“Forced, no doubt, to work at unpleasant tasks,” Judith said, shaking her head. “Roman, it must stop. These poor girls who have no one get caught up in the trap of being used in such horrific ways. We must create help for them, even if society is against them in their moral outrage. Mrs. Van Cleve made a comment asking, ‘Where are the men who have created these circumstances?’ They pay no penalty, suffer no shunning, and endure very little trouble for their deeds. But the girls involved...” Her voice faded.
Roman reached over to take her hand. He knew it was more intimacy than was called for, but he couldn’t help himself. “We will find ways to help them. I promise you that much.”
For several long minutes, Judith said nothing. She clung to his hand as if Roman were offering her a lifeline.
“There’s just so much wrong in this world,” she finally said. “I’ve seen so much of it firsthand. Death and sorrow, misery and suffering. How can anyone just walk by and leave thewounded on the side of the road? Why do we lack a heart of compassion when we are all so in need of love and understanding?”
Roman couldn’t have loved her more than he did in that moment. She truly was the only woman he could imagine having at his side. For the rest of his life.
“I know that God has the world in His hands,” Judith continued. “I know that He sees each sparrow fall. But why, Roman, why must the children suffer so much?”
He met her gaze and saw the tears that had formed. He let go of her hand and reached up to touch her cheek. “I could tell you how this is a fallen world and that sin cares not for whom it harms. That the devil seeks to destroy all that God loves, but that God will have His way in the end. But I know that would not offer you comfort now.
“The only choice given to us is that we do what we can to be God’s servants and do His work. You are a most persuasive woman, Judith Stanford. You have convinced many to help, and you aren’t afraid to get your hands dirty and do some of the hard labor that is required. You have such a tenderness toward the less fortunate, and your actions have helped so many.”
“But it’s not enough, Roman. A handful here and few dozen there. It’s not nearly enough. There are orphans and destitute families all over this country. Good people who are trying their best and still failing. Then others come in to take advantage of them, and they suffer all the more.” She sniffed back tears. “What is to be done?”
Roman reached into his coat and pulled out his handkerchief. He smiled, and instead of handing her the cloth, he dabbed her wet cheeks. “We keep praying. We keep working to right wrongs and better those who cannot better themselves. We look for the needs instead of ignoring them, and we expose them to the world so that all might know the truth. Jesus told us to love one another as He loved us. Somehow we need toconvince our fellow man that this command is just as relevant today as it was when Jesus said it.”
“Sometimes it just seems that it’s so little. Those children today were struggling with sickness, but even more so they long for love. They need to be cared for by a mother and a father. They need families around them so that in their sickness they can be watched over in tenderness. Not that the Sisters weren’t wonderful with them, but they are only two older women with limited resources and strength.”
“But that’s how it starts,” Roman said, giving her a smile. “Someone cares and then another and another. Together they form a group and begin to help. Others join in, and soon truly amazing things start to happen. God calls each of us to do our part, Judith. You cannot do everyone’s job. Keep focusing on your calling, and God will bless your obedience.”
She nodded and eased back against the cushioned chair. “I know you’re right. There’s just so much to do.”
Roman chuckled. “Just remember, you don’t have to do it alone.”
“Again, you’re right.”
“Since you’re in a mood to think positively toward me, I’d like to ask you to accompany me to the Wagners’ party. I don’t feel I can avoid it, and having you there with me would make the evening so much more bearable.”
