(My assistant accidentally uploaded the last few posts from a pre-edited manuscript. I'll post corrections soon. Enjoy this correct entry. Happy reading!)
Chapter 32
New Year’s Eve
Monday, December 31, 1945
Adam woke up the next morning
in the Silvermans’ guest room. He shook his head and tried to clear his
thinking. The events of the previous day gathered around the edges of his mind.
“Adam?” Pastor Silverman tapped on the bedroom door.
“Yeah?”
“May I come in?”
“Sure.” Adam pulled the covers over him again, sat up and
leaned on his elbow.
“A couple of people have been by to see you this
morning.”
“How did they know where to find me?”
“Actually, Frederica Breman stopped. She said you two had
seen each other yesterday. I guess she also knew you had been living in the
church’s bell tower.”
“Yeah, I guess. I’m that crazy boy that lives with the
bats in the belfry.”
“Speaking of bats in the belfry, you know what I found
over there this morning? I hope you don’t mind. I had gone up the ladder to get
your school books, clothing and stuff. Look what I found.”
Pastor Silverman reached around into the hallway and
brought in B.B. Brumble’s basket-purse turned birdcage. The basket was covered
with a white cloth.
Adam’s breath caught in his throat. Many things tumbled
through his mind and B.B.’s basket was another wad to choke on. The little
hummer was gone. He didn’t realize until that moment how much the little ruby
throated hummingbird meant to him.
“So you found the basket?” Adam was sure. Once he was
found with the silly purse, no one would believe or trust him.
“That’s right. I found it,” Pastor said.
“Pastor Silverman―”
“This is the most appropriate use of B.B.’s bag I can
think of.”
“It’s okay that I had the purse?” Adam was confused. If
everything was all right, then why did the pastor confront him with the bag
now?
“Okay? Of course, Adam. The basket-purse was there for
the taking.” He pulled one of Mrs. Silverman’s card-table cloth covers from the
top of the cage. There in the center of the basket was the little hummingbird.
Adam leaped
from the bed and grabbed the cage. “How did he survive? How is this possible? I
thought the little guy was either gone or dead.”
He pulled the cage close to his face and studied the bird
from every angle. Great tears of joy and other feelings he had stuffed away to
deal with another time, rolled down Adam’s cheeks. He looked over the bright
red throat and the little green feathers and saw how proud the bird looked.
The hummer appeared to be healthy and strong. Suddenly,
he began chirping his long, “Look at me, aren’t I great” song.
“He’s showing off,” Adam grinned. “He is amazing.” He
looked again at the little bird. “I’m shocked, Pastor?” He hitched up the
basketball sweats he had used as pajamas bottoms, took the birdcage and sat
down on the edge of the bed. He couldn’t take his eyes off his only roommate,
as small and amazing as the hummer was.
“How could any of these things happen? Adam, I don’t
know. I’m not the author of any of this. I just know there are so many little
miracles that gather around us each day; we would trip over them if we saw them
all. Most of us see only a few in a lifetime.”
“And some of us miss them all,” Adam admitted. How many
miracles in his life had he missed?
“You
said Fritzy was here?”
“She left a card she had made. Trust me. I didn’t look at
the message. She said she had made the card last evening. She wanted you to
have it right away. I guess you two have a date for the New Year’s Party. She also
said to remind you that you had promised.” The pastor waited for Adam to reply.
“Oh, and here is her card,” Pastor offered.
Adam took the envelope and withdrew the handmade card. There
were two verses with a hand drawn cover, just like a card from Woolworth’s. The
cover had a watercolor painting of a ruby throated hummingbird, signed by
Fritzy. Inside, the words sounded like they had been written just for him. He
thought about all that had happened to him recently. He saw the path he had
walked written within the ten lines of Fritzy’s poem.
God bless you with–
Truth to speak
The home you seek
Grace for living
A cause for giving.
For This New Year:
I wish you peace to share
Those who care
A song to sing
And hummingbirds in the spring.
Adam brushed a tear away with the back of his hand. “I
wasn’t sure I would be able to take her to the party. I don’t have any money. I
lost my billfold on my way back from Mr. and Mrs. Breman’s house.”
“Now, that is another thing. A man stopped by and asked
if I knew where the Schumacher family lived. I said I had just met Adam
Schumacher Saturday evening.” Pastor paused to let Adam have time to remember
the miracle of that night in the church.
“Did you tell him?” Adam’s muscles trembled again as he
prepared for another flight.
“Well, yes,” Pastor said. “Isn’t that okay, Adam? He had
been driving slowly along the streets he had seen you on before. About a block
and a half from here, he spotted your wallet on a small stretch of sidewalk
that had been cleared of snow. He gave it to me.”
“I have met him. I don’t know who he is. Do you know
where he is now?”
“He said he had to get home. He had taken a few days out
of his Christmas vacation already, trying to find the Schumacher family. But,
he had to go back home. He needed to be with his family for a few days before
his children went back to school after Christmas vacation.”
“What did he want—besides giving back the billfold? I saw
him around town long before he found my wallet.”
“He had a message for you and your mother. That’s all he
wanted. He claimed he shouldn’t give the information to anyone but the
Schumacher family. He said that someone had told him that a man, believed to be
your father, William Schumacher, had been found in an Army hospital. He said
the source was reliable. Your father has evidently been there since a Prisoner
of War camp was liberated at the end of the war. The man, your father, doesn’t
remember his own name, but a patient in the same ward, said he thought he recognized
him. No one would believe the other patient because he had memory lapses too.
Sergeant Smith said your dad had no identification on him and the VA wouldn’t notify
you or your mom without proper I.D. They wouldn’t want to make a mistake. The
man, thought to be your dad, was thin and ill but getting stronger. The war
buddy of mine said he had picked these up off the battlefield at the Battle of
the Bulge. They were found near where your father had been when the enemy dragged
him away. Sergeant Smith wanted you and your mother to have them.”
Pastor Silverman reached in his pocket and pulled
something out. He took the bird from Adam and put the cage on a table in front
of a window.
“This is for you and your mom,” he said as he dropped
Will Schumacher’s Army dog-tags into Adam’s hand.
“Oh no! The man in the blue car had these all along?
Where is he? Where’s Pops?”
“Sergeant Smith left his name, address and phone number.
He said he would like you and your mom to write to him. He can make
arrangements for you two to meet the man believed to be William Schumacher.”
The pastor handed the card with the contact information to a stunned young man,
the newly renamed Adam Schumacher.
I will go with you, My Son. I’ll help you find your
father, Shaddy blew into Adam’s ear with certainty.
“I will find him. I know I will find Pops as soon as spring
comes. Thank you, Reverend.” Adam grabbed the pastor and held onto the
dog-tags. They were the only reality he had known in months. They were not a
fantasy. They were a truth about Pops he could live with.
“I did nothing, Son. You should thank God.” Pastor patted
the boy’s shoulders then added. “I saw no suit among your clothes in the belfry.
You’re going to need one for the party.”
“But―”
“Sounds to me like you promised Fritzy Breman you would
take her to the party, and she is an awful nice girl to back out on your
promise.” He didn’t give Adam a chance to protest but continued, “I have a suit
hanging in the back of my closet that I have not worn in years. I guess I kept
the suit of clothes to remind me of how slim I was at one time. My wife can
take in the pants a little for you.”
Could it be? Had I actually witnessed a miracle and
almost didn’t see it? He looked at the hummer and the wallet and the dog
tags and wondered how much more proof he would need?
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