Mercy Me by Margaret A. Graham Read Free Book Online

trumped by what she wrote. Seeing I couldn’t win, I guessed that the Lord was in this thing. That letter coming in the nick of time to keep me from making a fool of myself was nothing less than God’s providence, and I knew I better not be stubborn about giving in.
    I have to laugh now when I think about it. Imagine Beatrice Thompson setting me straight!
    I still don’t like that kind of music, but I keep my mouth shut about it. Pastor Osborne does see to it that we sing hymns. His favorite is “A Mighty Fortress Is OurGod.” I like that one, but my favorite is “How Firm a Foundation.”
    Well, I got to go hoe the garden. Like every summer, it seems, it’s been so dry even the weeds have not got the heart to grow. The best they can do is wiggle out the ground, then keel over. Ha! Ha!

7

    The fat was in the fire! Elijah’s mule fell sick, and he come to Reverend Osborne to ask him to pray for Maude. Well, Reverend Osborne did, and when the W.W.s heard tell of it, they went ballistic! They said they never heard of nobody praying for a mule.
    Well, I stood up for Pastor Osborne and Elijah and especially Maude. I opened up telling how I prayed for Flossie Ann and how I found her in the dresser drawer. I told them I for one knew it was A-OK to pray for any mule, cow, hog, dog—any of God’s creatures.
    Seeing I was winning, I let them in on the fact that Splurgeon thought animals went to heaven, not because they were saved but because they were God’s creations and they belonged to him. Boy, did that raise a hullabaloo!
    They said flat out they didn’t believe me, and I told them they were in no position to argue with Mr. Splurgeon, who was a great man of God.
    Clara got so loud, you could hear her in the next county. “You mean to tell me you think there’s dogs and cats running around in heaven?”
    And prissy Mabel Elmwood piped up, “If there’s a dog in heaven, I’m not going up there. I’m scared to death of dogs.”
    There was no use arguing with them. That Yankee, Thelma, grinning like a Cheshire cat, asked, “Do all animals go to heaven, or do some of them go to hell?”
    Well, I told her I did not know, because I’d never been there. I felt like saying, “Maybe you can check that out when you go.” But I didn’t. Instead, I picked up my pocketbook, Bible, and quarterly and left before the bell rang.
    I knew those women would spend the rest of the class period talking about it not being right to pray for animals. I tell you, I wanted no part of it. I knew where I stood. I also knew that as soon as the W.W.s got home, my phone would ring off the hook.
    Sure enough, as soon as they all got home from the restaurant, they started calling. Every one of them started out mealymouthed, saying they were sorry if they had hurt my feelings. But I knew them women. I knew that was not the reason they were calling me. Because they were all agreed I was wrong and they were right; they were feeling their oats and wanted to keep on enjoying their win.
    I could tell they had all got in on it together, because they repeated their comments in the same words. Theysaid the preacher had not only prayed for Maude, he had called the vet and paid out of his own pocket to have the vet take a look at her. That, they said, was putting feet to his prayer, which was not faith at all. Besides, where’d he get money to spend like that?
    Those women made me tired. They wouldn’t go to the preacher and have anything out with him. They were afraid they might learn something, I guess. If truth be known, they stood in awe of him. They knew what Reverend Osborne was, and down in their hearts, they must’ve known what they were. They had all got tongues that flapped at both ends and talked behind his back, stirring up trouble.
    Well, I would have no part of it, and I told them I was praying for Maude too, and what did they think of