No Triumph Without Trials: The Journey to True Joy

No Joy Without Struggle

How did you manage to get yourself into such a mess, you foolish girl? Who will want you now that youre with a child on the way? And how do you expect to raise it? Dont count on me for help. I brought you up, and now you think Ill look after your baby too? I have no use for you here. Pack your things and leave my house!

Elsie lowered her gaze and said nothing. The faint hope that Aunt Harriet might at least let her stay for a spell, merely until she found work, vanished before her eyes.

If only Mother were still alive

Elsie never knew her father, and her mother was struck by a drunken driver at a crossroads fifteen years earlier. Social services were about to ship the little girl to an orphanage when a distant relativea cousin of her motherssuddenly appeared, offered his steady job and his own cottage, and made the guardianship arrangement easy.

Aunt Harriet lived on the outskirts of a modest town on Englands south coast, green in summer and damp in winter. Elsie was always wellfed, properly dressed, and used to hard labour. With a house, a garden and a few chickens, there was always something to do. Perhaps she missed a mothers tenderness, but who cared for that?

Elsie did well at school, and after leaving, she entered a teachertraining college. Those carefree student days flew by, but now they were over; the final exams were passed, and she returned to the town that had become her home. Yet the homecoming was far from joyous.

After her angry outburst, Aunt Harriet finally steadied herself.

Enough now. Get out of my sight. I dont want to see you here again.

Please, Aunt Harriet, may I just

No, Ive said all I need to say!

Silently, Elsie lifted her suitcase and stepped onto the lane. Had she imagined returning in such a state? Humiliated, rejected, and with a child growing inside herthough only in the early weeksshe decided she could no longer keep the secret of her pregnancy.

She needed somewhere to stay. She walked on, lost in thought, oblivious to the world around her.

It was midsummer in the south. Apples and pears ripened in orchards, apricots glowed golden, and heavy bunches of grapes drooped from trellises while deeppurple plums hid beneath dark leaves. The air was thick with the scent of jam, roasting meat and fresh bread. The heat was oppressive, and Elsies throat was dry. Near a gate she called out to a woman standing by a summer kitchen.

Madam, could I have some water?

Mrs. Margaret, a sturdy woman in her fifties, turned toward the voice. Come in, love, if you mean no harm.

She dipped a tin cup into a pail and handed it to the weary girl, who sat on a bench and gulped down the cool liquid.

May I stay a while? Its terribly hot.

Of course, dear. Where are you from? I see youve a suitcase.

Ive just finished college, hoping to find a teaching post, but I have nowhere to lodge. Do you know anyone renting a room?

Margaret studied her: neatly dressed but clearly burdened by thought.

You could have the spare room at my place. Itll brighten things up a bit. I wont ask much, just that you pay on time. If that suits you, Ill show you the room.

The prospect of a lodger pleased Margaretextra money was always welcome in a small town far from any city. Her son lived in London and hardly visited, so a companion for the long winter evenings would be nice.

Elsie, scarcely believing her sudden luck, followed her hostess. The room was modest but cosy, with a window overlooking the garden, a small table, two chairs, a bed and an old wardrobejust enough. They settled on a modest rent of a few pounds a week, and after changing into cleaner clothes, Elsie made her way to the local education office.

Thus the days slipped bywork, home, work. Elsie scarcely found time to tear a page from her calendar as the months rushed on.

She grew close to Margaret, who turned out to be a kind and caring woman, and Margaret grew fond of the simple, modest girl. Whenever she could, Elsie helped around the cottage, and many evenings they sat together in the garden gazebo, sipping tea, for in the south the chill of autumn arrives slowly.

The pregnancy progressed without trouble. Elsie felt no nausea, her complexion stayed clear, though the baby bump was obvious. She confided in Margaret, sharing a story that was all too familiar.

In her second year of teaching, Elsie fell in love with James, the charming son of welloff parents who taught at the nearby university. His future seemed setfurther study, a scholarly career, all close to home. Handsome, polite and sociable, he was the life of every gathering and much admired by the maidens. Yet he chose modest Elsie. Perhaps it was her shy smile, her gentle brown eyes, or her slight figure; perhaps he sensed a kindred spirit or the resilience forged by hardship. Their final college years were spent almost inseparably, and Elsie imagined a future by his side.

One morning she realised she could no longer tolerate the strange smells and sudden nausea that had begun to coil in her stomach. She bought a pregnancy test, retreated to her modest room, drank a glass of water and waited. Two lines appeared. She stared, disbelief warring with certainty. Exams loomed, and now this! How would James react? Children were not in their plans.

Unexpectedly, a rush of affection for the tiny life within her swelled.

Little one, she whispered, laying a hand on her belly.

When James learned the news, he resolved that very evening to introduce Elsie to his parents. Their reaction cut her to the quick. Jamess parents suggested she terminate the pregnancy and leave town after graduation, insisting James needed to focus on his career and that she was not a suitable match.

What conversation James had with his father, Elsie could only guess. The next day, James slipped into her room, placed an envelope containing a few hundred pounds on the table, and left without a word.

Elsie never contemplated abortion. She already loved the tiny being inside her; it was her child, hers alone. After a brief pause, she accepted the money, knowing how vital it would be.

Margaret, hearing the tale, comforted her gently. These things happen, love. Its not the worst fate. Youre brave not to end itevery child is a blessing. Perhaps everything will work out for the best.

But Elsie could not entertain the thought of reconciling with James. The humiliation lingered, a bitter memory that refused to fade.

Time moved on. Elsie stopped working, waddling like a duck as the weeks drew near. She wondered whether the baby would be a boy or a girl, though the scan could not tell. It mattered not, so long as the child was healthy.

At the end of February, on a Saturday, labour began. Margaret drove her to the town hospital. The birth was smooth, and Elsie welcomed a healthy baby boy.

Baby John, she murmured, stroking his round cheek.

In the maternity ward she befriended other new mothers. One told her that two days earlier the wife of the local border officer had given birth to a girl. The couple were not married but lived together.

He brought her flowers, chocolates and a bottle of brandy for the nurses, visiting each day in his army Jeep. Yet things were awry; she kept saying she didnt want children and left a note, abandoning the babe, saying she wasnt ready.

What of the child? asked another.

Theyre bottlefeeding her, but the nurse said a breastmilk supply would be better. Yet everyone has their own infant to tend.

When feeding time arrived, the nurse looked hopeful.

Can anyone nurse her? Shes so frail, she asked.

I will, dear, Elsie said softly, laying her own son on the cot and cradling the newborn girl.

Oh, how tiny and fair she is! Ill call her Mary.

Compared with her robust son John, the girl seemed delicate. Elsie offered her breast; the infant latched eagerly and soon fell asleep.

Two days later the nurse entered with news that the baby girls father had arrived and wished to meet the woman nursing his child. That man was Captain James Harrington, a young officer of average height with steady blue eyes and a firm gaze.

The story spread through the maternity ward and, in time, throughout the whole town, for it concluded in a manner worth remembering.

When Elsie was discharged, a small crowd of doctors, nurses and orderlies gathered at the hospital entrance. A Jeep, festooned with blue and pink balloons, waited. Captain Harrington, in his officers stripes, helped Elsie into the vehicle, where Margaret already sat, handing her a blue bundle for John and a pink one for Mary.

With a cheerful honk, the Jeep rolled away, soon disappearing around the bend.

Thus it isone never truly knows what consequences will follow ones deeds. Life can fling surprises upon us that we could never have imagined.