Blessed Assurance Read Online Free

looked lovingly around the simple kitchen. “I know what you mean. When I was twelve, coming to this house to be Margaret’s hired girl set me free, too.”
    â€œI don’t know how you turned out so sweet raised by such a hard-hearted step-daddy.”
    â€œHow my mother can love someone as unlovable as my stepfather…” Jessie caught herself before saying more. Margaret wouldn’t have liked what Jessie’d just said. “I hope Margaret taught me how to show my love to others.”
    Susan began rinsing dishes. “Margaret did a good job. Everybody know you got a big heart. And that’s the trouble with you. I bet you didn’t get two hours sleep last night.”
    Jessie yawned and stretched her arms overhead, wiggling out the kinks in her back. “‘I can do all things through Christ who strengtheneth me.’”
    â€œI know that, but do He want you doing everything?”
    Jessie sighed and reached for a dishcloth.
    Susan yanked it out of her hand. “Go nap. I can do these dishes alone.”
    â€œI’ll help you then lay down.”
    â€œYou go now or I’ll do the shopping and you won’t get to see your mama today.”
    Jessie gave Susan a crooked smile. “All right, Miss Susan.”
    Â 
    With an oak basket on one arm, Jessie inched through the bustling crowd of women in bonnets at the Lake Street open market.The stalls were filled with farmers’ rhubarb, eggs, and more.
    â€œMrs. Wagstaff, your boy need any pencils today?” The double amputee sat on a homemade wicker wheelchair at his regular spot on the corner.
    â€œYes, he goes through them like lightning.” She gave him a penny and looked in the crowd for her mother’s arrival.
    He tossed the bright yellow pencil into her basket.
    A cool breeze off the nearby Chicago River blew over them, making Jessie press a lavender-scented handkerchief to her nose. “That awful odor! Forgive me for mentioning it. How do you stand it all day?”
    â€œMy nose must get used to it.”
    â€œThey can’t fix the Chicago River soon enough for me,” Jessie spoke through her handkerchief.
    He pointed a yellow pencil at her like a teacher with a pointing stick. “Do you really think they can change a river’s flow by digging a deep ditch?”
    â€œWe’ll know that in July.”
    â€œJessie.”
    She turned to greet her mother, a slender woman with the same dark hair and eyes and a handkerchief over her nose also. For a moment, Jessie hoped her mother would open her arms and pull her in for a quick hug. But, of course, her mother merely offered Jessie her hand. Hiram Huff had taught them never to show affection in public or private. Just thinking her stepfather’s name sparked fire in her stomach. God, free me from this anger, she prayed silently.
    Almost cringing, Jessie’s mother spoke to the pencil–peddler. “My husband said this pencil broke because it’s poorly made. He wants you to return it to your supplier.” Her mother’s face turned bright pink.
    Jessie’s resentment flamed up again. Only Hiram Huff would return a pencil to a crippled Union army veteran.
    â€œI’ll do that, ma’am. Tell your husband I stand behind my pencils.” He gave her a new one.
    Jessie thought fast. “Oh! Miss Greenleigh asked me to pick uptwo red pencils.” She handed him a nickel. He tossed the pencils into her basket.
    With parting nods to him, they walked away side by side.
    â€œThank you, dear,” her mother murmured.
    Jessie nodded. They both knew that Jessie had bought the red pencils out of kindness since Hiram Huff made his wife account for each penny. The breeze changed and they lowered their handkerchiefs.
    â€œYou look tired, Jessie. Have you been up late again nursing someone?”
    After Susan’s lecture on the same subject, Jessie changed topics. “I had an unexpected visitor this