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THE GIFT

Great snowflakes came tumbling down out of heavy-laden clouds. It was past midnight. The whiteness gave off a glow though no moon shone. Something had woken Abel, although, if asked, he could not have said what it was that disturbed his slumber.
“What is it Abel?” his wife called from the stoop as Abel walked purposefully towards the barn.
“Nothing Martha. You go back inside now. I’m just seeing that the animals are alright.” But she would not go inside until she knew all was safe and sound.
Abel Sandry slid back the barn door. His team of heavy drays snuffled and snorted as they always did when in Abel’s presence. They were his pride and joy and gave every ounce of their 2 ton weight between them when pulling the plough or harrow or any other job he found to use their skills on.
Abel felt his way to the two stalls by the meagre light from outside. He rubbed their noses in turn. Sorrel dropped his head for a scratch behind the ears. Always in need of fondness that one, he thought.
Clover, his mare, was quite standoffish. She liked attention but did not give her affections gladly. Martha could never tell her what to do but Abel had a way with him to get the best out of Clover. Now the mare grudgingly leaned her head forward as Abel reached out for that soft spot under her jowl that was a favourite itching place. Both horses seemed secure.
Abel walked on down the barn checking the milk cows and his prize bull. At the far end was his riding horse Stomper who doubled as the power in his Sunday-go-to-Meeting trap. Stomper had Arab in him and Abel paid over the odds for him at last year’s fair. Martha chastised Abel long after the fair was done, on the cost of such a beast. Using up all their spare coin at the time. “It’ll work itself out Martha,” he had told her. “We have fine cattle that will sell at a good price.”
That was before the drought and the blight that had hit their herd. They still had a little money left but winter had struck early and they had been snowed in for two months now. Supplies in the house were running out. They needed food and the animals’ feed was getting very low. Abel could just about afford to get them through the winter but ploughing through the deep snow was impossible. And the weather looked to be getting worse.
Walking down to the end of the barn, Abel went to stroke Stomper. Stomper always got upset when near Sorrel and Clover so his stall and that of the mule Abigail who he tolerated much more, were at the far end of the barn. The chickens were quiet in their area and his two geese woke but knowing it was Abel, went back to sleep. I hope this storm lets up, Abel thought to himself as he checked Stomper’s halter. It was then that he realised he could see what he was doing. Usually that end of the barn was pitch at night, but it seemed that some kind of light was pervading the stall. His horse was eating hay as if it were light outside.
Abel looked up. The glow appeared to be coming from the hay loft and was seeping through the cracks in the planks. He cautiously began climbing the ladder up to the loft, poking his head carefully above the floor and looking all around as far as he could see. There was a glow and he quickly finished climbing, ending up crouched beside the top of the ladder. All looked peaceful. He moved to the outside wall of the barn above Stomper’s stall. It was here he opened the shutters of the hay loft so that the snow light could penetrate the loft and give him more light to see by. Abel accomplished this task with the minimum of sound and effort.
Nothing happened.
Abel moved across to where the light was brightest. There, underneath some strands of hay, shining in the white light was a small box. Cautiously Abel picked it up. The glow inside the barn disappeared. Abel closed the shutters and edged his way back to the ladder. Years of practice guided his steps.
Back down on the floor of the barn, Abel made his way back down towards the door, mumbling to himself. “I wish the snow would stop.”
“Abel! Are you alright?” Martha called from the porch. She had on her heavy winter coat, boots and a knitted hat she had made at odd moments when time permitted her some respite from chores. “The snow has stopped falling.”
As Abel walked through the barn door he could not believe how bright it was. The moon was shining and it was full, as full as Fall’s Harvest Moon. So bright it was like daylight. He felt warm too. He could see the rutted tracks leading out of the yard where, before he stepped into the barn, there was just banks of snow.
“Martha,” he called excitedly. “Look! I can hitch up the wagon and go fetch supplies. Or at least get to old Tom Yearsley down the track. He may have some supplies we could buy or borrow.”
“But it’s hours before dawn, the snow drifts….!” Martha started. Then she too saw that everywhere the snow was melting. Donning her heavy shawl, she ran out to help with the horses as Abel collected the harness. The wagon was soon hitched.
“I’ll get and early start and be back by afternoon, Martha. We shall have food for the children and feed for the animals. Go back inside the house and warm up, you look half frozen.”
“Yes Abel.” She watched as her husband steered the horses out of the yard and down the track to town. He had also hitched a trailer to the wagon which in a few hours would be load with hay and straw for the horses and cows and grain for the chickens and pigs. Abel clutched the box, snug in his inside pocket. It felt warm to the touch.

The drive to town had not been easy. Melting snow caused Abel to stop more than once to help the horses pull the wagon and trailer out of muddied ruts where sudden snow melt had yet to drain away. His encouragement as he pulled at the lead horse harness gave them the extra strength to pull harder.
The sky was light when he finally pulled into the main street to the Chandlers store. He knocked up Joshua Foley who was angry at first until he saw who it was. Soon the wagon was full with flour, grease, salt and sugar and other things they needed. He knew Martha’s list but added a few extra things she might like. His cash seemed to stretch. There were more dollars in his pocket than he realised.
After the trailer was loaded with fodder, grain and other feed stuffs, it was too heavy for Sorrel and Clover to manage. Joshua went down to the stables, waking Dan Turney, persuading him to loan Abel a pair of his strong drays. Abel and Dan unhitched the trailer from the wagon and hitched Dan’s matched pair to the trailer. Dan would drive back behind Abel all the way to the farm.

Martha saw them coming up the track and put her last scoop of coffee into the pot to brew. She got grease and flour and made fresh biscuits for her husband and whoever was driving the trailer. The children were up and helped lay the table, build up the fire and set clean linen beside the plates. By the time Dan and Abel had drawn the wagons close to the barn, all was ready.
“Go help your father bring in the groceries children,” said Martha, “then we can all have breakfast together.” Laughing, the children ran outside and brought in bags of flour, sugar, a side of bacon and other goods. Abel hauled the heavy grease cans and Dan helped with the heavier goods too, Later Dan would help unload the animal feed.
Abel quietly felt for the box. It seemed to vibrate and that warm feeling had grown hotter. After breakfast they unloaded the feedstuffs into the barn and fed the animals who gratefully began guzzling. They rubbed down the horses and let them rest, including Dan’s pair. He would ride back to town later.
The day passed and Martha and Abel were happy. Their predicament had been averted. Before he went to bed, Abel walked out to the barn, down to the far end where Stomper was standing. The horse was resting his head on the wall of his stall. A glow from above lit his forehead blaze. Once again, Abel climbed to the loft. He removed the box from his pocket. By now it was almost too hot to handle. He placed the box in the glowing spot where he found it the night before and climbed back down.
Abel knew it was a gift from an angel to be used when really needed but returned before any advantage was taken. The gift would see them through winter and next year would take care of itself.

© Copyright Evelyn J. Steward July, 2002.
(Revised November, 2009)
Words 1573

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Text: and a littlr fantasy too
Publication Date: 11-23-2011

All Rights Reserved

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