Searching for Anna by Jenifer Carll-Tong (motivational books for students TXT) 📖

Phoebe and Wendell had just sat down for his reading lesson when there was a loud banging on her door. A young man she had never met was on the other side.

"I'm sorry to bother you Pastor, but I was looking for Wendell," the young man exclaimed. He spoke to Wendell. "I need you to come back to the boarding house with me. O'Grady and Fuller are at it again, and they aren't backin' down."

"Sorry Pastor. I gotta go."

Phoebe followed closely behind the two. "What's going on?"

"There's a fight at the boarding house."

"Why doesn't someone call a constable?" she asked.

"Mrs. Smith is afraid they'll get arrested," Wendell answered. "If they get arrested, they'll get fired from the mine. Mr. Speer and the others don't want any trouble, so they don't mess around with anyone that causes problems."

Phoebe remembered her first meeting with Mrs. Smith. She rushed to the wagon with the boys.

"What are you doin', ma'am?" the other boy asked.

"I'm going with you."

"Awe, no," came his reply. "What's a woman going to do to break up a fight? You need to stay outta this."

Phoebe ignored his warning and pulled herself into the seat. "I'm not a woman," she said. "I'm the pastor."

Without a word, Wendell jumped in the back of the rig. Dumbfounded, the driver looked from Phoebe to Wendell, then back to Phoebe. He shook his head in disgust but clicked the reins and hurried the horses.

When they arrived, shouting could be heard before the door to the home was even opened. Wendell ran ahead to open the door. Inside was complete chaos. Around the perimeter of the dining room stood several cheering men, all about Wendell's age. In the middle, near the table, two young men were fighting.

As Phoebe stepped further into the room, she and Mrs. Smith caught sight of one another. The older woman, visibly upset, threw her hands in the air.

"What in the world do ya think yer gonna do?" she yelled.

Phoebe ignored her and pushed her way through the crowd. Some of the men, seeing her, stopped their chanting, though she wasn't certain if it was out of respect for her position or out of just plain shock.

"Gentlemen!" Phoebe shouted to no avail. "Men! BOYS!" She yelled at the top of her lungs, but the boys in the scuffle did not notice her at all. One threw the other into the wall, knocking a picture off and breaking the frame.

Her presence was having no effect on the scuffle and it angered her. She spun around, looking for something to help. Seeing the dining table, she climbed on a chair then on the table. She stood with one foot on the table and one on the back of the chair. Sticking two fingers in her mouth, she whistled a loud, high-pitched whistle while simultaneously kicking the chair into the grappling young men. The shock of the whistle coupled with the flying furniture was enough to separate the two boys. They stood, breathing heavy, staring at Phoebe who towered above them on the table.

"I – BEG – YOUR – PARDON!" she screeched. "What on earth do you think you are doing?"

Both boys began speaking at once, blaming the other for the scrap. Phoebe shook her head.

"I know I asked, but I don't care. I – DO – NOT – CARE!" she yelled. She looked around the room. "Look at this place." When the boys continued to stare at her, she yelled again, "LOOK AT IT!"

The boys looked around sheepishly.

"Do you see what you've done? How you have wrecked poor, sweet Mrs. Smith's place? Why would you do this to her, the person who has opened her home to you, fed you, taken care of you? And you destroy her personal property because you choose to act like little boys rather than men? Where is your respect?"

The room remained silent, so she continued in a much calmer tone.

"Listen, like you all, I left my family behind to move to Iron Falls. I miss them terribly, but God has given me a new family. The community of Iron Falls is my new family, and it is your new family as well. Mrs. Smith has been so exceedingly kind to me since I arrived here. She reminds me of my grandmother, in some ways. Would you treat your grandmother's home the way you have just treated Mrs. Smith's home?"

She stared the boys down until each answered "No."

"Help me down," she demanded of the two. One boy picked up the chair for her. The other held her hand while she stepped down. The chair was wobbly. She frowned.

"It appears I may have damaged the chair."

"No ma'am," one of the boys said. "That chair's been rickety for weeks."

"Then why haven't one of you fixed it?" The whole room was silent as she scanned the faces of each of them. "Honestly, boys, I just don't understand. Would you let your grandmother's chair fall apart? Of course, you wouldn't. You would fix it.

"This is your family now – each other, Mrs. Smith, me – all of Iron Falls. And family takes care of family. Every one of you boys – not just these two – needs to take some responsibility around here. When I return here next, I had better find everything in this room righted and repaired. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes ma'am," various voices murmured throughout the room.

"Very well. Mrs. Smith," she said, addressing the matron who stood in the corner with her mouth wide open. "I will come for tea with you soon and to check on the boys. Good day to you all." She walked toward the door but turned back. "Oh, and in case you were wondering, Jesus had a lot to say about grace and forgiveness. I'll see you boys in church on Sunday. You are all in need of a little refreshing of that knowledge."

Phoebe turned to leave, nearly knocking into a state trooper who was leaning in the doorway. She looked up to find Will Caffey smiling at her. He motioned for her to proceed then followed her out.

Once outside, Phoebe's heart began racing. Now that the heat of the moment had passed, she felt weak in the knees. What had she been thinking, jumping up on that table? What must they all think of her?

Will grabbed the reins of his horse and fell into step beside her. She refused to look at him, knowing the smirk that would be plastered on his face.

"How long were you standing there?" she asked.

"Hmmm – long enough to see you kick a chair at two very surprised boys," he said with a chuckle.

She stopped then and looked at him. "Why didn't you say anything? Weren't you there to break up the fight?"

Will shrugged. "You didn't appear to need any help."

"I'm afraid I've made a fool of myself." She turned and continued walking, picking up her pace a little.

"Quite the contrary, I believe. I think you just earned the respect of about a dozen rambunctious boys."

"How could they respect a pastor that climbs on furniture?"

"I think you frightened them a little," Will chuckled again. "And fear is respect's first cousin. If they are a little scared of you, they will respect you."

Phoebe wasn't convinced, but she appreciated Will saying so, nonetheless.

Will lifted his eyes toward the sky. "It's getting late. Wait here while I check the store for messages, then I'll walk you home."

"I don't need an escort. I know the way well." Phoebe laughed.

"It's getting late."

She rolled