The Jumping-Off Place
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Squirming around, Maria had found a perfect resting position when a young man sat in the seat beside her. "I won't bother you," he said, tipping his hat. "As tired as I am, I doubt you could bother me. I'm gonna take a nap till we get to Piney Ridge." "I'm studying to preach my first sermon this Sunday at Riverview, so I'll be meditating and thinking. I'll be quiet." "My grandpa, Tobias Grant, is the preacher at the Indian Church. Is that where you're preaching?" Has something happened to Tobias? "Yes." "Is Tobais sick? I've been away lately." "No. This is a practice sermon for me. As far as I know your granpa is okay. I'll be quiet so you can sleep." "That's okay," Maria replied, sleepily. "My papa's a preacher, too. He preached his first sermon at Riverwivew several years ago." "At the Indian Church?' "Yes. Papa's a twin. From the way my folks tell it, one twin preached and the other one played the organ." "So, you go to church often." "Every Sunday, almost that is . . . " I haven't been going to preaching lately "By the way, my name is Jonathan Folsom," the young man siad. "What's your name?" "I'm Maria Grant," she answered. "If I was in Riverview Sunday, I'd come to hear you preach, but Papa has moved to a new church. He's doing mission work at Sandy Hill. I'll . . . " "That's where I'm from! I'll be visiting my folks while I'm here. I may meet your parents if we're there at the same time." Jonathan thumbed through his Bible. Opening it, he placed it on his legs. "I'm going to try to preach on the Prodigal Son." What about the Prodigal Daughter? By now, Maria was fully awake. She held out a trembling hand to shake Jonathan's hand. "Glad to meet you. I'm the Prodigal Daughter. Ask me some questions. I may be able to answer them because now I'm returning home." She laughed faintly, but she meant every word.
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Maria lifted her hand to knock, but stopped when she heard a woman speaking.
“Pastor, I met the most pathetic-looking girl yesterday,” the voice said.
“Where was that?”
“Here at the church . . .”
Maria felt her face burning with shame. She had fallen into disgrace, but not far enough to endure the term “pathetic.”
* * *
“Did you come to the Ladies’ Aid Meeting?” the woman asked.
“Yeah. I came for aid,” Maria answered, trying to control the bitterness in her voice. “I came for aid yesterday, but you asked me to eat and I did. I came again today to see if you needed a janitor to clean the church, but I know you don’t, so I’ll leave.”
* * *
Maria Grant feels she at her wit’s end—hungry, weary, and bedraggled—all for the love of a boy. Why did she leave her loving family to be near Orville? He didn’t care one iota for her. She had sunk so low, all because of Orville.
About the Author
Dolores White Kiser’s Choctaw family traveled the Trail of Tears in the 1830’s. They settled in the Choctaw Nation of the Indian Territory. Her grandfather, several times removed, Thomas LeFlore and his wife, Susan, led the first group of Choctaws to the new territory. He served as chief of his district. He and his family lived in the Chief’s House, among the oldest buildings still standing in Oklahoma. Johnie Mae, Dolores’ mother, attended and graduated from Wheelock and Goodland Indian Boarding Schools. She attended Oklahoma Presbyterian College for Women in Durant, Oklahoma. Dolores listened to her mother tell of incidents that happened to her while she grew up in the schools. Dolores writes stories that she imagines could have happened to students attending fictitious boarding schools and churches. A loyal member of the Choctaw Tribe, Dolores has resided in the Choctaw Nation most of her life.