To Love and Honor

“Have you had any contact with your father’s family?”

“None! I don’t even know where they live. My Aunt Ruth wouldn’t tell me anything about them. My uncle was an archaeologist, and he and Aunt Ruth traveled all over the world, but after they took me in, she stopped going with him, and moved with me to Minnesota. That’s where I grew up, and after I graduated from college, Aunt Ruth thought I would be better off not to return to her home. She wanted me to be hard to find should the Conleys ever try, for she feared that if I was my father’s heir, they might try to dispose of me. I thought it was a rather ridiculous idea, but she’s right about most things, so I was eager to move to Illinois.”

“And you’ve been happy here?”

“I have never enjoyed complete happiness. I’ve always felt unwanted, rejected by my father’s people and my mother. I can’t forgive them for that, and it eats away at my peace of mind.”

“But if your mother was sent to prison when you were a child, she couldn’t have done much for you. I don’t consider that rejection. Didn’t you ever go to see her?”

“Vaguely, I remember going to a large brick building when I was a child and seeing a woman, but Aunt Ruth said that my mother didn’t want me exposed to a prison environment. She thought the experience of seeing her incarcerated would be psychologically harmful to me. She told Aunt Ruth not to contact her again.”

Violet paused. She had to rein in her emotions and bolster her courage before she told Roger anything else. She took a deep breath and settled into one corner of the couch with her feet curled under her body.

“So not having a real, live mother, I fantasized endlessly about one. As I walked home from school, I imagined that my mother would meet me at the door with a kiss and a hug, and take me to the kitchen for fresh-baked cookies and milk. It was my mother, not Aunt Ruth, who dried my tears, and bandaged my knee when I fell off my bike. And she kissed me fondly beaming with pride when I brought home excellent report cards. She was beautiful, kind and sympathetic, and she made me happy.” Violet shook her head to rid her mind of a comforting childhood dream.

“The year I graduated from college, I had occasion to be traveling through Kansas, and I found out where she was imprisoned, and feeling self-righteous and full of sweetness and light, I went to see her. She refused to see me. My own mother refused to see me!” Violet struggled for self-control, but her usual well-modulated voice gave away her emotions. “Can you imagine that?”

“But why?” Roger said compassionately. “Surely she gave a reason.”

“Oh, yes, she sent back a message that she wanted me to leave and forget I had a mother, that a meeting wouldn’t do either of us any good. To my dying day, I’ll never forget how that hurt me.” She paused and wouldn’t meet Roger’s eyes when she said, “And may God forgive me for such an unchristian thought, but when I wanted to see her, she told me to forget that I had a mother—now that she’s dying, she wants me to take her in.”

“I’m not so sure about that. The woman who telephoned me said they tried to get Mrs. Conley to tell them if she had any relatives, and she refused to name anyone. They traced you through your birth records and Social Security number, and when they asked your mother if you were her daughter, she responded that she had never heard of you.”

“Still rejecting me!”

“I don’t think so. I believe she’s still trying to protect you.”

“If she doesn’t want to come to me, why are they forcing the issue?”

“I asked that question, and I received a runaround answer. Some kind of new regulation gives prisons the option to parole terminally ill patients. It may be that they don’t have the staff to take care of her, but they are going to release her, if not to the next of kin, then to a nursing home, where she can receive proper care.”

“I don’t see how I can possibly bring her here. I have no feeling for her as a mother—it would be like taking in a stranger. Besides the fact that it would upset my whole life-style, how can I afford to do it? I’m living on a shoestring budget now, and there is no way that I can assume her medical expenses.”

“Then she isn’t eligible for Medicare?”

“No, I’m sure of that. I think she was only twenty when I was born, so that will put her in her midforties. She’s still a young woman.” Violet went into the bedroom and came back with a photo of a man, woman, and baby.

“That’s the only picture I have of my parents, and I would assume I was about a year old when the picture was taken. Aunt Ruth gave that to me when I started asking about my parents. They appear to be a happy couple, don’t they? What could have happened in a year’s time to cause such a crime?”

Roger took the picture and looked at it closely. Linda Conley was a petite woman with brown hair and eyes. Her husband, Ryan, was handsome with close-cropped black wavy hair and blue eyes. White teeth gleamed below a small black mustache. His expression and posture spoke of a strong sense of determination, while his wife’s expression indicated a low-key personality.

“His death may have been an accident, but if his parents were vindictive as you’ve heard, they might have pushed for your mother’s conviction out of revenge. If she didn’t put up a strong defense, a jury could have been swayed easily.”

Roger stood up and laid his hand on Violet’s shoulder.

“What am I going to do?”

He smiled, and she noted again how his face creased into deep lines when he smiled. “If I were in your place, I would do exactly what you’re going to do, although I don’t know what that is now. But it will be the right thing—I have confidence in your decisions, Violet.” A sudden burst of wind sent an onslaught of rain against the window, and Violet shivered. Roger sat beside her again and took her hand. “Don’t try to give me an answer now. I told the woman I would return her call in a few days. I didn’t even indicate that I knew anyone by the name of Conley. Take some time to think it over.”

“I’ll have to. Thanks for understanding, Roger.”

He gently squeezed her hand before releasing it. “What are friends for, anyway?”

Violet doubted that she would sleep, but since she hadn’t slept the night before, she had to have some rest. She checked the locks, turned out all the lights and went into the bedroom. The bed did look inviting, and she reached in the closet and removed the pretty pink nightgown that Aunt Ruth had bought for her birthday. As low as she felt tonight, her spirits needed lifting, and she admitted that the pink brought out the luster of her short, curly hair, and picked up the sheen of her long black lashes. The color also complimented her violet eyes. Though tonight they looked dull and lifeless.

Violet eyes! One of the few stories Aunt Ruth had told about her childhood was the reason for her unusual name. Her parents hadn’t decided on a name for their child, but the minute the baby had opened her eyes and they had noticed that the color was violet, her father had said, “We’ll call her Violet. I’ve never seen such a startling color.”

And while most newborn’s eyes soon change, Violet’s never had, except to become more expressive and intense as she had matured. So her name was the one legacy she had gotten from her father.

Lying in bed, Violet did a lot of praying. Were there any similar incidents in the Scriptures to guide her decision? When Jesus was on the cross, suffering an agonizing death for the sin of mankind, one of his last concerns was for his mother, committing her to the care of a beloved disciple. But Jesus had known his mother; she had loved him and supported his ministry. Mary was there at the foot of the cross to bring comfort when He was dying. When Violet had needed her mother, she had been rejected. Violet’s aunt had done her best to explain that Violet’s mother had only done so out of good intentions, but Violet deeply felt the pain of that rejection nonetheless—carried it with her always. Even if she was in prison, she could have kept in contact with her daughter Violet had always felt. No, Violet decided, there was no parallel between Jesus’s care of his mother and her situation.

Scripture proverbs that Violet didn’t remember that she had ever heard insinuated themselves into her mind. Do not despise your mother when she is old. Well, she didn’t despise her mother; she didn’t know her well enough to despise her. But another thought needled her conscience. You know her well enough to harbor an unforgiving attitude toward her.

Violet had never doubted before that she lived an exemplary life, one that was in harmony with the teachings of the Bible, but she knew that she was facing a situation that would put her Christianity to the supreme test. During her reflection, Violet kept pushing aside one of the parables of Jesus that she would have to deal with before she resolved her turmoil. Once when Jesus had been discussing the end of the present world, He had specified the criteria for those who would inherit eternal life, and He emphasized strongly that the proof of people’s faith was illustrated by their treatment of others.

Violet picked up the Bible to refresh her memory; perhaps it didn’t really say what she thought it did, but the words of Jesus in the book of Matthew pricked her soul like a hot knife. I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.

“But, Lord,” Violet murmured in her own defense, “I went to the prison, wanting to see her, and she wouldn’t receive me. Doesn’t that vindicate me? What more could I have done?”

Try as she might, Violet could not use past circumstances to influence this decision. She knew that, whether or not she took her mother, her Christian commitment was on trial. In this crisis, would she hear her Master’s commendation, “Well done, good and faithful servant”? Or would He say to her, “Whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me”? Did she have a faith strong enough to sustain her in the crucible of life? She would soon find out.

Although Violet couldn’t tell anyone in Maitland about her problem, she knew she did have to contact her aunt, Ruth Reed. They often chatted via phone on Saturday afternoon, so Ruth didn’t think anything unusual about the call, and they visited several minutes before Violet came to the reason for the contact. In concise terms, she explained the situation.

Ruth caught her breath sharply, and was silent for a minute or more when Violet finished. “Oh, poor Linda,” Ruth finally said. “After all she’s been through, what a sad way to end her life.”

Violet was dumbstruck for a few moments. Since Roger’s visit, she had been dwelling on how this emergency would affect her; she had never once considered her mother’s side of the situation, but how like Aunt Ruth to think of others first. She proved that by her next words.

“Of course, you can’t take her, Violet. I’ll bring her to my home and care for her.”

“Now, Aunt Ruth…”

“Violet, listen to me. If you bring Linda into your home, there’s a chance that her whole past will blow up in your face. Both your mother and I have tried to shield you from the consequences of events that weren’t your fault. We can’t let it surface now.”

“Roger said that she told the prison officials she didn’t have any relatives, and they traced me through my birth certificate. She apparently doesn’t want to come here.”

“No, she wouldn’t, so don’t worry any more about it. I’ll get in touch with the correctional facility and tell them I will assume her care.”

Violet hesitated. How tempting it was to dump the problem on Ruth. Whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me. “Please don’t make any arrangements for a few days, Aunt Ruth. Honestly, it would be a relief to shove all of this on your shoulders, and I’m not even sure if I can assume the responsibility for my mother. But I’m twenty-five years old, and if I’m not mature enough now to face up to my obligations, I never will be. Give me a few days, and pray for me that I might make the right decision.”

As he often did on Saturday night, Larry took her to the country club, which featured a lavish buffet on the weekends. When he removed her coat to hang it on the rack, his hands lingered on her shoulders. “Say! You’re beautiful tonight. Is that a new dress?” She nodded as they were escorted to a reserved table. “I didn’t know the teachers at our school received a raise in salary,” he joked.

She laughed, and for a moment, cheered by his admiration, forgot the calamity about to break over her head. “I’m a careful shopper,” she answered.

After he seated her, he took a small box from his pocket, opened it and removed a thin silver chain. “Allow me,” he said, and he bent toward her, fastened the necklace around her throat and left his arm on her shoulders. Touched, Violet lifted her hand to feel the smooth circlet around her neck.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you,” she said, “but what’s the occasion?”

“I wanted to make amends for my harsh words a few days ago. I was so intent on heading off a potential crisis among our pupils and parents that I didn’t consider the right and wrong of what I asked you to do. I shouldn’t have put you in such a position.”