ELLEN and The HUMMINGTREE - an excerpt
Abundance
Page 142 - 147
After Jerry left me, William was not the only man who shared more than a casual interest in me and my life. Jethro also loved me. I must confess my relationship with Jethro is another story altogether. By the time he came into my life I had already become what the so-called experts liked to call the proverbial empty-nester.
Both daughters, Sandi and Carol, had left home. They each were focused on a career and they were making their own way in the world.
It had been years since Jerry abandoned his family and, though it wasn't easy, I had finally accepted that he was not coming back to me; to our marriage. I was alone in the world and I felt lonely. The forty-nine year old woman staring back at me in the mirror was a caricature of the practical, purposeful person I used to be. I swear there were times that I could barely contain the urge to slap her face.
Joy had turned its back on me. And you can take my word for it; worrying about money was no pleasure either but, knowing this, I could not seem to make myself stop doing it. I jumped every time the phone rang and maybe it was a good thing I didn't get a lot of company because at that juncture of my life I was scared to answer my own front door.
The power had been turned off in my house but that was okay. I could live without electricity. I had even learned to like the cozy, sheltering warmth of the old oil lamp. Indeed, the shadows dancing on the walls in the dark of evening had become my only source of entertainment. As for cooking, I was doing my best with the old backyard barbecue. I had no idea what I would do when the charcoal ran out. And I didn't even want to think about the whelp of winter on this beautiful, small town, summer day.
I thought of my mother and I could almost hear her voice saying, "This is another fine kettle of fish!"
Yes, a fine kettle, indeed. On this fine summer day I finish the dishes, dry my hands on my apron, and decide that what I need to do is to get out of the house. Maybe the morning's fresh, fragrant air will force the worry whirlpool out of my swollen head. I decide that I will take a walk on the trail through the woods behind the house.
I've almost reached the garden gate when the yellow quartz boulder beneath the Hummingtree whispers my name. I can hear it calling, Ellen, come rest a while.
I ignore the invitation. For the past many weeks I've spent time sitting on God's good earth beneath the Hummingtree. I've sat cross-legged on the soft, green grass and, in my usual way, I have leaned over the yellow quartz rock and shared my money problems with God. And each time His promise reached my ears, Abundance is on its way.
At first because I wanted to believe I would simply reply, "Thank you, God." But as time went by and my financial situation did nothing to improve itself I began to doubt His promise.
Abundance is on its way; the Good Lord repeated when I continued to beg for help.
It's taking its own sweet time getting here, I answered. And after several weeks of receiving this repetitive pledge with no money arriving on my doorstep I was fast losing faith.
Ellen, come rest a while, the voice persisted that morning.
Feeling mean and miserable, I leaned over and picked up a pebble. I tossed it as hard as I could and watched with satisfaction when it bounced off the yellow quartz rock onto the grass.
I walk to the garden gate, open it, and begin my trek through the woods. There are few animals about this morning. I spot a couple of black squirrels scurrying along the branch of a Maple. I hear the crows cussing. I see a chipmunk turn and run at the sound of my approaching footsteps. No bears about this morning and for this I'm grateful as I allow my mind to enter the stillness.
I walk for almost an hour and by the time I'm home and have reached the garden gate I am no closer to a solution to my financial problems. Back inside the yard I glance over at my yellow quartz rock. Feeling dismayed and discouraged, I make my way across the crisp, green grass and settle myself on the soft earth beneath the Hummingtree.
I folded my legs beneath me and bowed my head to pray. Silly fool, you're still wearing your apron, I chide myself. With a sigh, I lean over the rock and whisper, it's me again, Lord. Are you there? I'm sorry I threw the pebble. I didn't mean it. I hope you will forgive me and my impatience.
I can feel the vibration massaging my feet and my legs as the humming makes its way up the trunk of the tree. I hold my ear close to the hole in the rock and soon the same old message reaches me once again, Abundance is on its way, Ellen.
Where's it coming from, Lord? And how much longer do I need to wait?
Patience is a virtue, Ellen. There are reasons for waiting.
That may be so, Lord, but I can't pay the bills with patience. It's money I'm needing.
There are reasons for waiting, Ellen.
I lift my weary body up from the ground and carry my impatience and my worry through the backyard. My intention is to go back into the house where, for the thousandth time, I will scan the local newspaper's classified section in search of an opportunity to make some much needed money.
The welcoming, white, plastic lawn chair on the patio calls out to me and I allow myself to collapse into its old reliable comfort. Who am I kidding? I know without looking that there will be no jobs in the small town newspaper and certainly nothing for a no-skills female of forty-nine.
Then the tears come. Self-pity makes itself at home in my heart while my head pounds with what threatens to be a migraine. That's when it happens. I nearly jump out of my skin at the sound of the deep, unfamiliar, masculine voice.
"Hello, I'm looking for Ellen Dawson. Would that be you?" he asked.
l look up to see a short, pot-bellied, bearded fellow with a knapsack on his back. He is standing at my backyard gate. His crooked smile and crinkled eyes peering out over the shaggy beard are not reminiscent of a bill collector but these days you never know the truth about people. I needed to make sure I wasn't in for more harassment.
"Who wants to know?" I asked.
"I want to know," he answered. "Folks in town told me I'd find Ellen Dawson at this address. Would that be you?"
"Why do you want to meet Ellen Dawson?" I ask, though the longer I look at him the more convinced I am that he is not a bill collector or someone who has come to turn off the water or put an eviction notice on my door.
The odd fellow's crooked smile grows bigger behind the beard and his voice can only be described as jovial when he speaks. "I'm obviously off to a very bad start. Let me start over," he says. "My name is Jethro. I'm a tourist in your lovely town. I planned to stay in the hotel but they sent me on my way because all the rooms are filled. Seems there's a big bicycle race happening this weekend. Never dawned on me I'd need a reservation and now I find myself with no place to stay."
"What's that got to do with me?" I ask.
ELLEN and The HUMMINGTREE is available in Kindle and Paperback formats on all Amazon sites. You will find it at my Amazon Author's page at https://amazon.com/author/audreyaustin
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