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Jonmike14
Oliver's Wisdom
From her lap, his shiny black eyes framed by furry, thick eyebrows stared up at her as she admired his permanent, infectious red smile.
Adjusting his tiny overalls, she pictured the little ones' faces, pressed anxiously against the icy windowpanes, waiting for her to arrive with another basket of her lifelike, homemade gifts.
The last strand of hair was finally in place. As she gently inserted the needle to tie a knot, he lurched in her hand and a high-pitched voice squealed: "Yeeeowww"! "When will you finally get out of my hair?!"
"Oh Oliver, you're always quick witted and so smart", replied Rebecca.
"Well of course I am, Becky, I'm just a chip off the old block!"
"Oh yes, and in more ways than one!," said Rebecca.
She kissed him on the forehead and gently placed him down in front of the stone hearth fireplace to keep him warm.
Fixing a piping hot cup of Espresso for herself, she turned out the lights and climbed the old rickety stairs in her log cabin home up to her bedroom.
She'd been working laboriously for the better part of the day and night, and needed to relax and converse with God in her favorite place to do so.
Her room exuded peacefulness and serenity, with the darkest cherry wood walls and a small mahogany desk neatly arranged with a Bible and religiously decorated candles. Cleverly designed, soft lighting lent a rustic and quaint look to the surroundings. A huge canopy bed, rich, deep blue, lace curtains framed a massive bay window that overlooked beautiful Red Trout Lake in Nova Scotia, Canada, and completed this dreamy corner of her home that she could actually call her personal sanctuary.
Since her husband had passed away, Rebecca had been hard-pressed to find peace and contentment. They had been married for forty years, and Pierre was a strong man whose career as a lumberjack was long and successful, providing for both their needs in abundance.
Unable to have children of their own, they enjoyed their time with many nieces and nephews, but the uniqueness of being a mom and dad had cruelly eluded them.
Rebecca didn't have to work, but to stave off boredom and enjoy a social life outside of her husband and other family members, had taken on employment as a stitcher in a local factory for many years. But now with the heartache of Pierre's loss, the work seemed meaningless and she needed something to fill the void.
The couple had always been God-fearing folks, and now Rebecca turned to Him with a renewed and passionate soul-searching that she hadn't experienced since she met Pierre.
Time after time, in the stillness of the evening in her room and sanctuary, she turned her focus inward and her eyes heavenward, and found herself reverting back to something that she and her husband had long ago abandoned, as they had agreed upon the answer in their hearts.
She started to once again question God's purpose for not providing them with children of their own. She felt as if God had cheated her, and had she been gifted with children of her own, right now her burden would be much easier to bear.
She well knew all about God's Divine Providence, and His all-knowing wisdom. She knew better, in her mind, not to ask that question, but her heart just could not stop her.
Months passed and Rebecca used her skill as a stitcher and years spent with her husband as well, learning his trade, to create Oliver, and his many siblings, expertly crafted lifelike cloth and wooden puppets, and prayed that someday they might be of use.
She kept the eyes and ears of her heart open for an answer.
As God would have it, He had a plan in the works that would yield so much more than she could imagine.
As dawn broke one frigid January morning, Rebecca gathered Oliver and family and lovingly packed them into her two horse sleigh hand built and fashioned by Pierre and hitched it up to make the twenty mile trek across frozen tundra to deliver them to their new home.
Just as she had imagined, the children's faces were glued to the ice crusted windows, and though upon her entrance they looked excited and happy, they said nothing.
After giving them each a special puppet and naming them, she proceeded to put on her magical puppet show, and, as usual, Oliver took the lead part in telling them all about the love of God. She had been doing this now for about a year since her loss, and loved to see the children's faces light up with joy.
This one particular day however, was the one that would be indelibly written on her soul.
This one, single, solitary day, marked a turning point in Rebecca's life.
As she finished her children's gospel story on this savagely cold and brutal winter day, the fire of love melted her.
Suddenly, with the last sentence of the reading, a little boy by the name of Marcus blurted out: "Oliver, I love you!"
Rebecca wept. Unbridled tears of joy flowed like a faucet and streamed down her face, for this was the first time that a little child from the Home For Autistic Children had ever uttered a word for her. She realized instantly in her heart that, in lieu of her own flesh and blood children, God had given her this special and beautiful group of His very own to teach about Him, and that He had answered her every prayer, heartache, dream, and wiped away every sad tear that she had ever shed.
From her lap, his shiny black eyes framed by furry, thick eyebrows stared up at her as she admired his permanent, infectious red smile.
Adjusting his tiny overalls, she pictured the little ones' faces, pressed anxiously against the icy windowpanes, waiting for her to arrive with another basket of her lifelike, homemade gifts.
The last strand of hair was finally in place. As she gently inserted the needle to tie a knot, he lurched in her hand and a high-pitched voice squealed: "Yeeeowww"! "When will you finally get out of my hair?!"
"Oh Oliver, you're always quick witted and so smart", replied Rebecca.
"Well of course I am, Becky, I'm just a chip off the old block!"
"Oh yes, and in more ways than one!," said Rebecca.
She kissed him on the forehead and gently placed him down in front of the stone hearth fireplace to keep him warm.
Fixing a piping hot cup of Espresso for herself, she turned out the lights and climbed the old rickety stairs in her log cabin home up to her bedroom.
She'd been working laboriously for the better part of the day and night, and needed to relax and converse with God in her favorite place to do so.
Her room exuded peacefulness and serenity, with the darkest cherry wood walls and a small mahogany desk neatly arranged with a Bible and religiously decorated candles. Cleverly designed, soft lighting lent a rustic and quaint look to the surroundings. A huge canopy bed, rich, deep blue, lace curtains framed a massive bay window that overlooked beautiful Red Trout Lake in Nova Scotia, Canada, and completed this dreamy corner of her home that she could actually call her personal sanctuary.
Since her husband had passed away, Rebecca had been hard-pressed to find peace and contentment. They had been married for forty years, and Pierre was a strong man whose career as a lumberjack was long and successful, providing for both their needs in abundance.
Unable to have children of their own, they enjoyed their time with many nieces and nephews, but the uniqueness of being a mom and dad had cruelly eluded them.
Rebecca didn't have to work, but to stave off boredom and enjoy a social life outside of her husband and other family members, had taken on employment as a stitcher in a local factory for many years. But now with the heartache of Pierre's loss, the work seemed meaningless and she needed something to fill the void.
The couple had always been God-fearing folks, and now Rebecca turned to Him with a renewed and passionate soul-searching that she hadn't experienced since she met Pierre.
Time after time, in the stillness of the evening in her room and sanctuary, she turned her focus inward and her eyes heavenward, and found herself reverting back to something that she and her husband had long ago abandoned, as they had agreed upon the answer in their hearts.
She started to once again question God's purpose for not providing them with children of their own. She felt as if God had cheated her, and had she been gifted with children of her own, right now her burden would be much easier to bear.
She well knew all about God's Divine Providence, and His all-knowing wisdom. She knew better, in her mind, not to ask that question, but her heart just could not stop her.
Months passed and Rebecca used her skill as a stitcher and years spent with her husband as well, learning his trade, to create Oliver, and his many siblings, expertly crafted lifelike cloth and wooden puppets, and prayed that someday they might be of use.
She kept the eyes and ears of her heart open for an answer.
As God would have it, He had a plan in the works that would yield so much more than she could imagine.
As dawn broke one frigid January morning, Rebecca gathered Oliver and family and lovingly packed them into her two horse sleigh hand built and fashioned by Pierre and hitched it up to make the twenty mile trek across frozen tundra to deliver them to their new home.
Just as she had imagined, the children's faces were glued to the ice crusted windows, and though upon her entrance they looked excited and happy, they said nothing.
After giving them each a special puppet and naming them, she proceeded to put on her magical puppet show, and, as usual, Oliver took the lead part in telling them all about the love of God. She had been doing this now for about a year since her loss, and loved to see the children's faces light up with joy.
This one particular day however, was the one that would be indelibly written on her soul.
This one, single, solitary day, marked a turning point in Rebecca's life.
As she finished her children's gospel story on this savagely cold and brutal winter day, the fire of love melted her.
Suddenly, with the last sentence of the reading, a little boy by the name of Marcus blurted out: "Oliver, I love you!"
Rebecca wept. Unbridled tears of joy flowed like a faucet and streamed down her face, for this was the first time that a little child from the Home For Autistic Children had ever uttered a word for her. She realized instantly in her heart that, in lieu of her own flesh and blood children, God had given her this special and beautiful group of His very own to teach about Him, and that He had answered her every prayer, heartache, dream, and wiped away every sad tear that she had ever shed.
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