Happy New Year! & January & Christmas Treasures-book (final excerpt)

 

Happy New Year!-2018

 

 

Your gift: A brand New Year!

Your challenge: Improve over 2017

 

I wish you: Health! Wealth! Happiness!

 

Contemplate your choices---choose...wisely!

 

 

 

Plus:

 

 

 

January

 

In the beginning was the Word

And the Word was God

He created heaven, earth, beast and bird

Adroitly accomplished at the Deity’s nod

 

Borned man and mate to populate the land

Gave them four seasons singing tempo-time

All synchronized by His sacred-directing hand

To the marching cadence of a perfect rhyme

 

Crystal-frozen light=wave sculpture flows

Frigid wind howls in deep-dark chill-night

Blizzard white cloud in moon aura glows

’Til each tiny snowflake sparkles light-bright

 

Across frozen water winter coats skate

Down hill races a child on stark red sled

Spring buds sleep as they patiently wait

Winter sun’s warmth mostly has fled

 

Earth’s beauty caught in a black and white frame

Daguerreotype picture in various grey shades

January winter-white, the canvas’ stark terrain

It’s Painter brushed evergreens into dark glades

 

Bony limbs stretch through a burnished-bronze sky

Beckon red-feathered birds adorn winter-bare trees

Sings Chinook-wind honoring heaven-on-high

True harbinger-of-springtime, the spirit it frees

 

Cherish each instant of gift-seasons four

See nature-reality strutting winter-white

Embrace life-space; celestial-heaven adore

In sacred-gifted time-space smile a delight

 

Amen! Mon Amie! (I love snow!)

 

 

Plus:

 

 

 

16   “And, Unto them a Child is Born!”

     “Ladies and Gentlemen! One and all,” came Z. Tyler’s deep voice from the holiday-decorated bannister railing at the top of the stairs. “Your kind attention, if you please.”

     With that, he came down the stairs carrying a light blue blanket securely in his arms.

     “Aunt Lexi, Granny Beth and Poppy Graig and all those in attendance,” he announced, “I give you ‘Daddy’ Z. T.’s brand new baby boy: Zachariah Farrell!”

     The proud parents had given the baby Z. T.’s first name and Mary Theresa’s maiden name for his middle moniker.

     He pulled the corner of the blanket back for everyone to see. A baby face in a knitted blue cap with thick, full, tight blonde curls spilling out and big, sparkling brown eyes greeted Z. Farrell’s new world, immediately winning the hearts of all who gazed upon him. Rye-Rye beamed and Bapa could not help but remember his very first view of his grandson, just after he had been born; now, Z. Tyler’s child was the exact image of that baby birth event a quarter century ago.

     That had been love at first sight, for Bapa, and this event proved to be, truly: Deja vu!

     The little girls crowded around as Lexi kissed her nephew’s little cheek, then she hugged her big brother; Lauren gently rubbed the baby’s tender cheek with the back of her finger while Annie place her finger in the tiny hand and the new baby boy grasped it, to her delight.  Beth kissed both her boys and Graig looked like he just might burst with pride. Bapa and Nanny and Becky and Alex joined the melee and offered warm hugs and kisses all around.

     “Mommy Mary Theresa is doing just fine.” Z Tyler announced, laughing. “She’s, uh, resting, now.” He added, “And, I’m quite sure that she deserves a little rest.”

     Everyone laughed. Someone began a chorus of “For he’s a jolly good fellow!”

     Nanny thought that Bapa sang louder than anyone else.

     The old farmhouse glowed in the warmth of just one more perfect Christmas Eve and the delight of yet another Christmas miracle: the birth of a healthy baby in the continuation of the human cycle.

     Someone asked if the family would repeat the Nativity Play the following evening, on Christmas Day. Bapa said he would have to consult with the actors.

     Anna Marie gave the collective answer, laughing.

     “Sure! After all! We’ve been practicing and---” then, she said the word perfectly, letting everyone know she had only been teasing them, “---rehearsing!” Lauren and Lexi laughed.

     Life is a series of unplanned very special events full of wonder and surprise; some are extra-special holidays with conclusions that endure throughout eternity---like…Christmas Perpetual!

 

Merry Christmas!

     

 

Epilogue

 

 

     A shiny silver dollar full moon orb glowed brightly in the black Christmas Day night-sky as it patiently traversed the eternal heavens on its routine trace in an appointed, yet unattained, promised rendezvous with the ’morrow sun in a hopeless chase of heavenly tag which could never reach fruition. Bapa had ignited the huge bonfire just after that same red-orange flaming ball had set on the western horizon teasing twilight which ushered in the gray dusk soon to drape the abyss with black velvet staccato-studded pinpoint blue-white sparkle diamonds stretching beyond eternal infinity; the radiant night light slightly obfuscated those dancing affectations dulling their lustrous glittering allure as they competed unsuccessfully for full illumination. Afternoon festivities had included ice skating on the frozen lake, sled riding challenges over the rolling meadow hills and one-horse open sleigh rides in the festive red sleigh decorated for the occasion with pine boughs and sprigs of red berry holly, pulled quite effortlessly by Magic, the half Arab, half Morgan mare, given to the grandkids as a present two years prior. Nanny’s Christmas dinner, served at the noon hour, had persisted through the day as guests continued to arrive. Bapa’s brother and his family arrived from the city and brought Grandma with them. A black candy kettle lined with copper was pressed into service as the cauldron for an outdoor chili cooking for the evening meal, rounded out with roasted hot dogs, toasted marshmallows and gallons of soda, tea and punch. About seven in the evening, the little girls, Z. Tyler and the other assembled children of the guests all donned cloth remnants, arranging the goods to resemble shepherd cloaks, and gathered at the impromptu “stable” setting lean-to against the barn in the lot between it and the house. Mary Theresa and the new baby watched the proceedings from the warm confines of the farmhouse living room, tended by Nanny, Grandma and a few of the other ladies. The remaining members of the assemblage gathered outside in a semi-circle around the Biblical Nativity setting as Z. Tyler, portraying Joseph, Anna Marie, as Mary, Lauren Victoria and Alexandria Elizabeth serving as angels, each conscripting a lamb to lend authenticity to the scene, with the rest of the children playing the parts of shepherds and wise men, took the stage near the manger cradling the baby Jesus. A quiet reverence took hold of the participants in the re-enactment of the Christmas story as Annie, Lexi, Lauren and Z. Tyler began to softly sing the lyrics of the season; the crowd joined the sacred rendition of traditional praise and glory to:

 

“Christmas Perpetual!” Amen!

 

“Silent Night! Holy Night! All is calm, all is bright…”

 

Peace on earth; good will to men! Amen!

 

Merry Christmas!

About the Author

 

 

 

 

Carl E. Schuler was born in Nashville, Tennessee, on January 2, 1947. At age nineteen he married his life-love, his soul mate, the beautiful, Lady Candice Leah, his Angel. Two daughters bless their lives: Catherine Elizabeth (Evans) and Rachel Rebecca (Baur). Beth is an attorney; Becky holds a Civil Engineering degree and is CEO of an internet company (padilly,com). Four perfect grandchildren have added infinite love to their family: “Handsome” Z. Tyler, 29; Lauren Victoria, the “Little Professor”, 15; Alexandria Elizabeth, “Lexli-Lu”, 13; and, Anna Marie, our blondie “Annie Rie”, also, 13. Zachariah and Lexi are siblings; Lauren and Anna are sisters. Each is saintly, following in their Nanny’s exemplar demeanor, emulating her elegant class.

Our “girls” are beautiful, talented, angelic, loving, as is our Z. Tyler-man. The young ladies are into horses displaying aptitude for equestrian events: dressage, stadium jumping, cross-country and fox hunting. Z. Tyler excels in sporting endeavors; each is an exemplar person. I am proud of them, blessed to know them, love each more than  life. Thank You for them! Lord!

 

A quote from the author: “On a 1990 blizzard day west Kit Carson-way, I offered a hungry pilgrim all my spare change, about ten dollars. He was skeptical at my approach, reluctant to accept my charity. Upon reflection, I should have done better by giving him the new coat I had recently purchased; the old ragged blanket he carried was tattered and torn and terribly thin.”

 

All we have to offer is Good! toward one another

The very best we bestow is Love! to each other

 

Honest! Humble! Humor! All worthy intent sought

Offer miles of smiles with pointed-purpose thought

 

Live! Love! Laugh! Focus contemplate!

Vigilant be! Not one future be ever late!

 

Faith! Family! Freedom! Might just be all there really…is

In one eternal instant the only mercy judgment will be…His!

Amen!

 

Blessed are the meek! Indeed!

 

 



New Years Eve & Christmas Treasures-book (excerpt)

 

Worthy!?---Oh! My-“own”…U.S.A.!?

 

 

Proud-patriotic U.S.A. flag-flying worthy(?) Independent-Individual!

 

Oh! Beautiful-America expands Love!-Universal in a tender-heart;

Mind-of-peace satiated with Christian-generous myriad-exemplar;

O’re yonder-rainbow unicorn-soars a free-spirit tolerant-practitioner.

 

For the unfathomed wealth of man’s hope in society-culture.

 

Such grandeur self-fulfilled by proxy self-deceit of Truth!

 

Culture-fruit results from society-behavior absent pretense.

 

Truth! Stands tall-alone un-obfuscated crystal-viewed by all.

 

Wealth! Captures no “worth” save a vacuous treasure-measure.

 

Pile high and deep thy silver/gold royals; build mansions glorious?

 

But---First…wash away blood-stains of 60-million innocents.

 

Value glows to Virtue only in pure-Truth!

 

A culture born of evil society-practice can only survive

where the very least able to protect themselves are honored

in sacred concern of “Do unto another---before…self!”

 

Christian-generosity honors life---and reveres…longevity!

 

Pray humble-simple I---begin anew…today!

 

God bless! Our U.S.A.!

 

Amen!

 

Happy New Year! 2018

 

 

Plus:

 

 

 

13   Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch

 

 

     The ride home was uneventful, aside from the fact that Z. Tyler had to engage the four wheel drive to coax the truck and its heavy load up the slight incline and onto the gravel road. That, and the fact that Lauren finished Bapa’s apple pie, because he was just too full to eat another bite. They all had a good laugh when he made that confession and insisted she do the honors.

     Nanny and the little girls greeted them as soon as they pulled into the yard lot between the house and the barn. Z. Tyler gave her and Lexi and Anna Marie a quick hug and high-tailed it into the house to greet his expectant wife. She sat, relaxed in the recliner near the fireplace; when he came in, she hugged him tightly and kissed him, passionately. He was glad the girls were outside for that private event; not suffering shyness, when the sweet embrace ended all too soon, Z. Tyler kissed her again.

“Mmm!” M. T. cooed. “I like your style, big boy!” She teased.

     “Bapa!” Nanny gasped as her husband opened the passenger door. “You best wait for Z. Tyler to help you,” she admonished, “you’re hurt!”

     “Aw! Nanny! It ain’t much. I’m alright; just a little stiff.” He laughed, “Anyway, you sent me the best nurse ever and she took real good care of me.” He hugged Lauren, then Annie and Lexi.

     When Nanny came around the pickup to his side, he put his arm around her and kissed her.

     The three girls “Ooh-ed!” and “Aah-ed!!” So, Bapa kissed her again.

     Nanny blushed. “You seem as good as ever to me,” she cooed, squeezing his hand. He smiled.

     The five made their way to the house; Bapa leaned on Nanny slightly and sat in the rocker by the hearth. He did not even remove his coat; the short walk had tired him that much.

     Catching his breath, he inquired of Mary Theresa’s health, asking the girl how she was doing.

     “Oh, I’m fine, Bapa. But, we sure were worried about you. That ‘rodeo’ gave us all quite a scare,” she teased. The assemblage laughed at her openly brash behavior and Bapa’s resultant discomfort. “But, seriously,” she sobered, “how are you?”

     “Like you,” he winked, “I’m okay. I got a few bumps and bruises. Probably would have been much worse if it wasn’t for that stupid ‘clown’.” He let the sentence hang on the air.

     Annie and Lexi looked at one another in consternation; Lauren knew better than to fall into one of Bapa’s traps; all was silent as the other three adults tried to stifle their laughter.

     Finally, the two little girls could stand it no longer.

     “What clown!?” They finally exploded in unison, unable to curtail their consuming curiosity.

     Bapa gave a hearty laugh. “The rodeo clown!” he bellowed.

     Laughter erupted as Lexi and Anna looked perplexed. They wondered: Had everybody lost their minds?

     “I’ll explain it to you, later,” Lauren promised them.

     “No, girls. It’s okay. I didn’t really get hurt---because…I fell on my head!” Bapa laughed.

     “That doesn’t need explaining,” blurted Anna Marie.

     Now, everybody howled in laughter. Nobody would ever get the best of Annie Rie, again.

     Bapa should have been chagrined, but he loved this little urchin so deeply, and, she was so much like him in the humor department that he laughed more heartily than the others. When he slightly overdid the boisterous merriment, something in his ribs pulled painfully, and he winced.

     “Oh! Bapa!” chirped Anna Marie, “I sure hope you are alright.” She seemed sincere.

     Catching his breath as the pain subsided with his waning laughter, he said, “Oh! Honey! I’m fine. Really. I just have to be a little careful and not exert myself too much at one time.”

     Annie’s eyes flashed. “Aw! Bapa! Just so you don’t forget how…” she trailed off as she reached under her apron. Then, she continued, “…to lay an egg!” And she produced yet another white chicken egg from under her pristine, white kitchen garment.

     That brought the house down. Lauren bent over with uncontrollable laughter and Lexli Lu fell on the floor, contorted with a fit of giggles. The adults looked from one to the other in disbelief. Where did she come up with this stuff; especially the magic egg at just the appropriate time?

     Amazing! They all knew she’d play this for all it was worth!

     Alex and Graig came in shortly after sunset. Z. Tyler had tended the horses, curried them and gave them a ration of grain and a flake of hay, each. He fed the other farm stock, put the truck and trailer into the barn and reported that the horses were not “off” their feed, so their good health seemed to be assured.

     He and Bapa had showered and shaved and seemed little the worse for wear; Bapa looked some better and was his old self. The girls tried to subdue their excitement about Christmas Eve, now only a day away. They tried, but failed as they succumbed to spontaneous bouts of laughter for no discernible reason. At one point they got so wound up that Bapa threatened to have their hearing checked as they continued getting extra loud; for his trouble, Nanny gave him a clandestine “shush” with a silent “Behave yourself” admonishment. He offered a contrite smile.

     “Are you girls prepared for the big Nativity scene Christmas presentation?” Bapa asked.

     “Oh! Yes! Bapa,” spoke up little Annie. “We been, ah, er, uh, ‘re-pract-hersing’, all day.”

     The adults laughed; Nanny came to her rescue.

     “That’s right, Bapa,” she said. “And,” she added to Anna Marie, “your ‘practicing’ is good.”

     Over a delectable supper of golden southern fried chicken trimmed with mashed potatoes, white gravy, corn, peas, cranberry sauce, tomatoes and onions from the cold cellar, cornbread, fresh biscuits, homemade bread, butter, jelly, hot tea, iced tea and soda pop, the pressed-into- service faux-“Fed Ex” delivery drivers reported that Ole Sam had not been home upon their arrival with the provisions that afternoon.

     Alex told the assemblage that he and Graig had loaded the sled pretty quickly and had been on their way up the mountain by the time the others had reached the gravel road which took them to the highway. The boys made good time and reached the “Leprechaun Man’s” cabin within forty-five minutes. The shelter was empty and the wood stove was cold. “Wild” Bill One Pony’s old red truck was under the lean-to roof attached to the cabin, but it was covered with a fine dusting from last night’s snow and there were no fresh tracks around. Since the hermit’s animal snares were not hanging on the wall, they figured that he and One Pony had gone to run the trap line and had been out for about two days; not unusual for Ole Sam.

     The boys had laid a fire in the stove, stowed the supplies on the table and left a handwritten “Merry Christmas” note for the mountain men trappers.

     The trip home brought them past Tall Pine beach, so they stopped long enough to check the campfire to be sure it was properly extinguished; it was. Bapa nodded his approval at their zeal.

     That evening, the group gathered in the living room around the festive Christmas tree while nostalgic Christmas carols played softly in the background; the celebrants joining in joyful sing-a-long fashion with their favorites. Nanny had really outdone herself this year, as she did each holiday

and special event, her celebrations were legendary; her decorating, impeccable.

     The girls played board games while their parents brought one another up-to-date on the happenings in their lives; Zachariah Tyler sat on the hearth next to M. T.’s recliner, holding her hand and looking into her soft eyes, oblivious to anyone else even being in the room. Nanny reveled in the company of her family, and, Bapa fell asleep in his rocker, his woolen socks warming Ella’s plump belly and his dangling hand touching Goldie’s large head. Zoe ignored the humans and the dogs with a feline air of aloofness as she dozed on the armrest of the soft sofa.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

14   The Christmas Eve Shopping Trip

 

 

     Christmas Eve day dawned crisp and clear. The “Chinook” had lost its battle with a cold front coming off the mountains. Z. Tyler and his dad and Uncle Alex took care of the farm chores so Bapa could sleep in. He was up and dressed by six-thirty and nearly beat Nanny to the kitchen.

     “I predict a white Christmas!” He announced as he kissed her on the cheek.

     She smiled, busying herself with breakfast chores. The boys would be coming in all too soon and she intended to have a hot meal ready when they arrived. Beth and Becky entered the kitchen area, along with Mary Theresa, a few minutes after Bapa had come in. “Good morning” was exchanged all around and the girls gave each parent a peck on the cheek.

     “What about the weather, Pop?” Beth inquired, taking a seat at the table.

     “Yeah, Daddy. Do you smell snow for today?” Came his youngest daughter’s follow-up.

     Nanny attempted the answer as her husband had just taken a sip of hot tea. As she filled cups for the three girls, she said, “He sure does. Bapa just told me that he predicts a white Christmas!”

     “Oh! Good!” came Beth’s response to the news, truly enthusiastic at the forecast.

     “The little girls will be well-pleased with that announcement,” surmised Becky, blowing on the surface of the steaming liquid in her cup to cool it a bit.

     “I, uh, seem to have dozed off last night, after that delicious supper,” Bapa offered by way of apology for his rude behavior and putting forth a compliment toward Nanny’s awesome southern fried chicken dinner. “What was decided about the activities for today?” He inquired.

     Becky touched her father’s hand.

     “Well, if you feel up to it, Daddy, we all want to make our annual last minute Christmas Eve shopping trip into town. You know. For some of those absolutely necessary special presents,” she teased. It was always his idea to add just one more event to the day; she knew that he couldn’t wait.

     Aware of her handiwork in the business of joking about nearly everything, he played along.

     “Gosh! I don’t know. I’ve had all my Christmas shopping done since last year.” He laughed, joined by the womenfolk. Just then, the three young men came in from their morning chores; Z. Tyler cozied up to Mary Theresa, kissing her forehead and taking hold of her hand.

     “I wonder where Anna Marie gets her sense of humor.” Bapa interjected.

     “Same place that I get mine,” came Miss Rachel’s quick retort. They all laughed.

     The boys reported on the livestock; all was well. They agreed that it was cold and getting steadily more frigid. A front started building in the west; appeared to be snow clouds.

     “One thing I’d like for the three of you to do after breakfast,” Bapa requested as Nanny set dishes and silverware around the table. “That little stage the girls insisted on for their Nativity scene Christmas play tonight needs finishing. Check the roof to be sure it’s secured good and tight; I just used some plywood sheets to cover it. And nail the rest of the stage flooring on the joists; I only got it about half done before we left on our little Wild West rodeo expedition yesterday.” His laughter mingled with that of the others.

     “So? Do you think you are in good enough health to make our annual Christmas Eve trek to town, Pop?” Beth inquired, an impish giggle betraying her solemn obfuscated attempt at concern.

     “What?” The old man almost bellowed. “You youngsters think I’d miss that adventure just because I’ve got a few years on me and a little soreness? What? With snow in the offing on Christmas Eve?” He meant to finally put an end to their tireless teasing.

     He stood up, snatched Z. Tyler’s bush hat from the boy’s head, donned it like a cowboy hat, grabbed Nanny’s straw broom from the pantry, straddled the handle like it was a horse and rode the mustang around the kitchen table in a running-hop agitated maneuver while fanning the bucking bronco with the confiscated hat in his left hand, carefully protecting his right shoulder from possible re-injury while letting go with several boisterous “Ya-hoo! Buckaroo!” salutations.

     The three little girls had arrived for breakfast just as the rodeo festivities began. Looking adorable in fleecy white night robes and wool lined house shoes, they stood in the doorway and observed their

grandfather’s wild action antics and, even for him, most bizarre behavior.

     “You better sit down and control yourself,” came Nanny’s strong admonition when Bapa’s face reddened and he could not catch his errant breath, laughing so hard that he could barely breathe, at all. The spectators were in stitches, too; even the little girls. Nanny, however, was not the least bit amused at her husband’s outlandish, and, usual, misbehavior.

     “Bapa!” she scolded in a tone not becoming a saintly angel, “You are old enough to know better. Stop this nonsense before we end up having to take you to the emergency room.”

     She was quite serious and beside herself over his childish antics. “Wouldn’t that just be one fine Christmas Eve?” she concluded, exasperated.

     The old man, finally, took his seat and fanned his flushed face with the borrowed bush hat.

     Catching his breath at long last, he said by way of apology to his dear wife, “Sorry, Nanny. I guess you’re right. I do need to take it a little easier.” Then, he laughed as he gently patted the pretend head of the bronco broom handle and said, “That’s enough, Old Paint. The womenfolk seem quite worried that I might hurt you.”

     Nervous laughter greeted that remark. It wasn’t like him to make fun of Nanny. She was standing by the stove, holding an egg in her hand, and she dropped it. Her hands flew to her face.

     Anna Marie began to cry, hiding her tiny face in her robe, sobbing loudly and uncontrollably; her mother rushed to her side.

     “It’s okay, Honey,” Becky consoled, “Bapa is alright and Nanny isn’t really angry with him.”

     The child ran to the kitchen door exiting onto the back porch and went out; the adults looked at one another in perplexed wonder.

     Suddenly, Annie Rie flew back into the kitchen wearing Bapa’s old fishing cap, upside down like he had done early the morning before when he had imitated a rooster. She ran to the pantry, grabbed the child broom and proceeded to mimic Bapa’s exaggerated romp on the bucking rodeo bronco around the kitchen table, whooping and yelling like a wild Apache off the reservation.

     Finally curtailing her obnoxious charade, little Annie sidled up to her beloved Nanny, put her arm around the matron’s waist, looked down sadly at the smashed egg and in her most sincere voice pronounced, “Oh! It’s okay, Nanny. Bapa can probably lay another one for you.”

      Again, she was the winner of the comedy talent contest; hands---and eggs…down!

     As the laughter at Bapa’s distressed celebrity waned, ever so slightly, Becky posted the final word with an appropriate quip of her own.

     “Uh, Daddy. Please do take it easy, will you? Especially if you try to lay another jumbo egg,” she laughed, raising her previously hidden left hand from under the table, a jumbo white chicken egg between her finger and thumb. “We don’t want you to over exert yourself and re-ignite the flames of that rodeo debacle pain, again!”

     After breakfast, the men retired to the living room; Greg replenished logs on the fire, Bapa took a nap while Z. Tyler babied his expectant bride. Alex sat at the double window and watched the wild birds and squirrels which came to the feeders in the side yard; two cotton tails showed up for a free meal and a mostly tame doe the family had lovingly nicknamed, “Bambie”, put in an appearance. Nanny and her girls volunteered for kitchen duty; the little ones helped, too.

     Grey clouds rolled in rapidly, as the morning wore on. The radio reported a “winter warning” for late afternoon with an expected accumulating snow fall beginning around dusk.

     At eleven, Lauren gently shook her grandfather. Once awake, Nanny suggested that they make their annual town run as soon as everyone had some lunch. They all hesitated, still full from the sumptuous breakfast fare, consumed only a few hours previously. All, that is, but Annie Rie. Skinny as a rail, that girl could really put it away. They surmised that she had a hollow leg.

     “Sure, Nanny,” she acknowledged, delighted. “I’m ready for lunch before we go shopping.”

 Nanny spread a Spartan menu, by her standards, with cold cuts, fresh-baked bread, chips, pickles, all the condiments along with canned peaches, cake and pie for dessert. There was soda pop for the kids and hot tea for the adults. In the end, everybody partook of the mini-feast.

By one, the troops were bundled and ready for action. Mary Theresa was not feeling too well and decided to forgo the trip; Z. Tyler naturally elected to remain with his wife. They would tend the fire and he would be a most willing nursemaid to M. T.

He watched the convoy advance down the farm lane to the main road and turn toward town. Mary Theresa, lying on the sofa, appeared to be exhausted, so he gently covered her with a heavy afghan, then pulled the rocker close, held her hand and gazed upon her lovely face as she slept.