Changing Winter
Claire sat on the threadbare chair, next to the fire, with her feet tucked underneath her to keep them warm. A book was opened on her lap, but her focus was on the heavy snow beginning to fall outside. Thick frost formed on the edges of each window pane, almost completely obscuring the view outside. It was early evening, not yet dark but soon it would be.
Claire shivered unconsciously as she felt the outside chill creeping into her small two room house. She hated the winter because of its damp and drabness. Summer was her favorite time of the year, with its warmth and happiness. Summertime was filled with flowers, sunshine, visiting friends in the afternoon and plenty of food. During winter there were hardships to deal with and this winter was no exception. Her cupboards were already beginning to show signs of bareness.
She forced her attention back to the page she had been reading, but she was unable to concentrate on the words. The impending storm had her worried because James was still out there somewhere. Earlier he told her he had a feeling this storm was going to be a bad one. Glancing back at the frosted window, she began to believe he was right. Hours ago he had gone to check on the livestock, to make sure they had enough straw for warmth and to make sure the doors and gates were locked down tight. Several minutes after walking out the door, James ran back inside and said that the corral gate had come opened and some of the cows were missing. He grabbed his gun and headed out again without another word to her. Claire remembered standing at the kitchen sink, too stunned to say anything. She knew that the cows were all they had left to survive the winter. They had planned to sell half of the herd for food and supplies. The few cows they had to sell wouldn’t have amounted to much, but at least it would help them make it until next spring when hopefully they could plant the crop and buy more cattle before next winter. If James couldn’t track down the missing ones, they were going to struggle even harder just to survive this winter.
A charred log in the fireplace broke in half and fell into the embers underneath it. The noise startled her, bringing her out of her deep thoughts. Claire gingerly put her feet on the ice cold floor, then stood up and walked over to the dying fire. After heaving another log onto the fire, she stood there rubbing her scratched palms on her skirts while staring at the flames licking at the fresh wood. After a moment, she picked up the poker and pushed the new log towards the back of the fireplace. ‘James will be cold and wet when he returns. He will probably want some coffee.’ She thought as she put a kettle on the fire hook to heat some water. Standing next to the fire felt warm. She stood there letting what little heat it brought forth wash over her. Outside the howling wind blew through thin cracks in the walls of the house, adding more chill to the air inside.
Returning to her chair, she picked up her book and sat back down to wait for her husband. Her eyes looked at the page, never reading a word, as her mind drifted into reflection of her past. Not long after marrying, James was called off to fight the North, leaving her to fend for herself. She felt certain she would die without him, but years of struggling alone taught her tough lessons about survival. The first several months she tried to keep the farm out of disrepair on her own, but failed miserably at the task. Then with help from generous neighbors nearby, Claire managed to produce a small amount of crop and maintain a few head of cattle before the end of summer. Unfortunately there was only enough money that year to pay her account at the mercantile store and meagerly feed herself during that first winter.
By next spring the bank was threatening her with foreclosure. Reluctantly she sold her grandmothers piano for a fraction of what it was worth just so she could pay the mortgage that she didn’t have and wouldn’t have for a few more months. Claire cried as she watched the bank owner, who had purchased it as a gift for his daughter, load it on his wagon. It was the only family heirloom she had and now it was gone, but at least she still had a roof over her head and a farm for James to come home to.
Again, with help from the neighbors, she managed to make enough to get by before the next winter, and Claire knew she would never be able to pay back the kindness of Mr. and Mrs. Patterson. The Patterson’s had also been affected by the civil war. Their eldest son, William, was called off to fight as well. Mrs. Patterson expressed her worry over her eldest son, who they had not heard from in almost a year, and prayed that the war would be over before their other two sons came of age to fight. Claire said that prayer as well because it was their two sons that helped her out around the farm.
By third spring, Claire was beginning to understand the working of the farm and feeling very proud of her accomplishments. Then the day came when a dirty rough looking man came limping through the field towards her home. It was a hot humid day and she had been out in the field all morning working, with the youngest Patterson boy’s help, harvesting the beginnings of her small crop. They were both dirty from head to toe and had just stopped for lunch. While washing up at the horse trough, Claire looked up and noticed the scarecrow thin man approaching the house. Having dealt with both unscrupulous strangers and unfortunate victims of the war; this unknown man immediately brought up her guard. The Patterson boy ran inside and grabbed the shot gun, which was kept just inside the front door, then came back out with it cocked and ready.
Claire stood ready as the scruffy man came closer. Suddenly tears flooded her eyes when she realized that this poor soul was her husband, James. Her towel dropped to the dirt as she ran towards him. So happy and relieved to see him home, she threw her arms around his neck and held him tight, afraid to let go out of the fear that he would vanish if she did. But James had not come back home the same person as when he left. Through her tears she had not noticed the gnarled stub at the end of his left wrist or the large bandage around his waist. When Claire stepped back her smile quickly turned to shock. He was terribly thin, weary…different. ‘Different’, she thought with a sarcastic snort and her face grimaced. James had come back changed both physically and emotionally from the war, a hollowed shell of what he once was, but she still loved him.
Claire missed the happy flirtatious young man she fell in love with; the man who went to any lengths to impress her; the man who used to bring her wild flowers just to see her smile. She missed the James she married. Now he was quiet and withdrawn…older somehow. There were times she could see in his eyes the terror of war, regret for lives taken or sorrow for friends lost. As much as she wanted to help him get past it all, James shut her out to protect her from the horror he had lived through. She was beginning to fear he would never be the sweet gentle man again. A sad tear rolled down her cheek, but she refused to feel sorry for herself. Angrily she wiped it away.
Tired of remembering the last few years of her hellish life, Claire forced herself to turn the page of her book and begin to read. By the time she finished the third paged, she heard the scraping of boots outside the front door. James opened the door and quickly shut it behind him to keep out the snow. For the first time in a long time she saw him smile widely, from ear to ear, the old boyish smile that she hadn’t seen in ages.
“I got em all! They are safe and back home in their pen.” James exclaimed as he limped over to Claire. He took her warm hand in his freezing wet hand and brought it up to his blue lips and kissed her knuckle gently. “No worries now, we will be all right.”
Claire shivered unconsciously as she felt the outside chill creeping into her small two room house. She hated the winter because of its damp and drabness. Summer was her favorite time of the year, with its warmth and happiness. Summertime was filled with flowers, sunshine, visiting friends in the afternoon and plenty of food. During winter there were hardships to deal with and this winter was no exception. Her cupboards were already beginning to show signs of bareness.
She forced her attention back to the page she had been reading, but she was unable to concentrate on the words. The impending storm had her worried because James was still out there somewhere. Earlier he told her he had a feeling this storm was going to be a bad one. Glancing back at the frosted window, she began to believe he was right. Hours ago he had gone to check on the livestock, to make sure they had enough straw for warmth and to make sure the doors and gates were locked down tight. Several minutes after walking out the door, James ran back inside and said that the corral gate had come opened and some of the cows were missing. He grabbed his gun and headed out again without another word to her. Claire remembered standing at the kitchen sink, too stunned to say anything. She knew that the cows were all they had left to survive the winter. They had planned to sell half of the herd for food and supplies. The few cows they had to sell wouldn’t have amounted to much, but at least it would help them make it until next spring when hopefully they could plant the crop and buy more cattle before next winter. If James couldn’t track down the missing ones, they were going to struggle even harder just to survive this winter.
A charred log in the fireplace broke in half and fell into the embers underneath it. The noise startled her, bringing her out of her deep thoughts. Claire gingerly put her feet on the ice cold floor, then stood up and walked over to the dying fire. After heaving another log onto the fire, she stood there rubbing her scratched palms on her skirts while staring at the flames licking at the fresh wood. After a moment, she picked up the poker and pushed the new log towards the back of the fireplace. ‘James will be cold and wet when he returns. He will probably want some coffee.’ She thought as she put a kettle on the fire hook to heat some water. Standing next to the fire felt warm. She stood there letting what little heat it brought forth wash over her. Outside the howling wind blew through thin cracks in the walls of the house, adding more chill to the air inside.
Returning to her chair, she picked up her book and sat back down to wait for her husband. Her eyes looked at the page, never reading a word, as her mind drifted into reflection of her past. Not long after marrying, James was called off to fight the North, leaving her to fend for herself. She felt certain she would die without him, but years of struggling alone taught her tough lessons about survival. The first several months she tried to keep the farm out of disrepair on her own, but failed miserably at the task. Then with help from generous neighbors nearby, Claire managed to produce a small amount of crop and maintain a few head of cattle before the end of summer. Unfortunately there was only enough money that year to pay her account at the mercantile store and meagerly feed herself during that first winter.
By next spring the bank was threatening her with foreclosure. Reluctantly she sold her grandmothers piano for a fraction of what it was worth just so she could pay the mortgage that she didn’t have and wouldn’t have for a few more months. Claire cried as she watched the bank owner, who had purchased it as a gift for his daughter, load it on his wagon. It was the only family heirloom she had and now it was gone, but at least she still had a roof over her head and a farm for James to come home to.
Again, with help from the neighbors, she managed to make enough to get by before the next winter, and Claire knew she would never be able to pay back the kindness of Mr. and Mrs. Patterson. The Patterson’s had also been affected by the civil war. Their eldest son, William, was called off to fight as well. Mrs. Patterson expressed her worry over her eldest son, who they had not heard from in almost a year, and prayed that the war would be over before their other two sons came of age to fight. Claire said that prayer as well because it was their two sons that helped her out around the farm.
By third spring, Claire was beginning to understand the working of the farm and feeling very proud of her accomplishments. Then the day came when a dirty rough looking man came limping through the field towards her home. It was a hot humid day and she had been out in the field all morning working, with the youngest Patterson boy’s help, harvesting the beginnings of her small crop. They were both dirty from head to toe and had just stopped for lunch. While washing up at the horse trough, Claire looked up and noticed the scarecrow thin man approaching the house. Having dealt with both unscrupulous strangers and unfortunate victims of the war; this unknown man immediately brought up her guard. The Patterson boy ran inside and grabbed the shot gun, which was kept just inside the front door, then came back out with it cocked and ready.
Claire stood ready as the scruffy man came closer. Suddenly tears flooded her eyes when she realized that this poor soul was her husband, James. Her towel dropped to the dirt as she ran towards him. So happy and relieved to see him home, she threw her arms around his neck and held him tight, afraid to let go out of the fear that he would vanish if she did. But James had not come back home the same person as when he left. Through her tears she had not noticed the gnarled stub at the end of his left wrist or the large bandage around his waist. When Claire stepped back her smile quickly turned to shock. He was terribly thin, weary…different. ‘Different’, she thought with a sarcastic snort and her face grimaced. James had come back changed both physically and emotionally from the war, a hollowed shell of what he once was, but she still loved him.
Claire missed the happy flirtatious young man she fell in love with; the man who went to any lengths to impress her; the man who used to bring her wild flowers just to see her smile. She missed the James she married. Now he was quiet and withdrawn…older somehow. There were times she could see in his eyes the terror of war, regret for lives taken or sorrow for friends lost. As much as she wanted to help him get past it all, James shut her out to protect her from the horror he had lived through. She was beginning to fear he would never be the sweet gentle man again. A sad tear rolled down her cheek, but she refused to feel sorry for herself. Angrily she wiped it away.
Tired of remembering the last few years of her hellish life, Claire forced herself to turn the page of her book and begin to read. By the time she finished the third paged, she heard the scraping of boots outside the front door. James opened the door and quickly shut it behind him to keep out the snow. For the first time in a long time she saw him smile widely, from ear to ear, the old boyish smile that she hadn’t seen in ages.
“I got em all! They are safe and back home in their pen.” James exclaimed as he limped over to Claire. He took her warm hand in his freezing wet hand and brought it up to his blue lips and kissed her knuckle gently. “No worries now, we will be all right.”
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