A Bountiful Life

 by Alivia Ulrich (ages 14-17)

 

  May 2012,

  Rose Prescott stared, amazed at the manuscript of tied papers in her hands.  Her eyes turned to her mother questioningly.

  Her mother smiled.  “That book belonged to your ancestor, Andrea Prescott.  It has been passed down for many generations, as well as the journals she wrote in during her adult life.  But the book in your hands is a collection of stories she wrote about her life on the Circle C Ranch in the 1880s.  She wrote this later in her life, with her daughter's encouragement and help.  The story goes that she tried to have it published.”

  “She never did, though?”

  “No.  But she passed her stories down through many generations, and now we have this book and her journals to know those same stories.”

  “This truly is a treasure.  To have the stories written for us, to have the chance to know the events of the past, will be like actually knowing Andrea Prescott.”

  Her mother nodded.  “Yes, and it's our job to make sure these stories stay alive and in the family.  Go on and open it, and step into her story—the story of Andi Cater Prescott...”

~ ~ ~

  May 1912,

  Laughter filled the table of the Prescott home, where her family had gathered.  Andi Prescott smiled as she gazed at her children and grandchildren, her own blue eyes sparkling from the memory of the story she'd just shared.  Her husband Riley grinned at her.

  “I remember that day like it was yesterday,” he said.  “In fact...”

  As Riley went on with his own version of the story, Andi took the moment to look around the table.  Jared, her oldest, sat with his arm around his sweet wife.  He had followed in his father's footsteps as a rancher and lived a couple miles away from Memory Creek Ranch.  Their two young children scampered over their parents' laps and raced for the next room, finally excused.

  Sitting near each other, twin sisters Lillian and Charlotte were very different in personalities, but had been best of friends since they were girls.  Quiet, sentimental Lilly had married an editor and now lived in Fresno with him.  Charlotte, adventurous and independent, had married a young ranch-hand and had stayed on Memory Creek Ranch, living in a small house, until they could buy their own ranch.  Each had been married for only a few years.

  Time had gone by so fast for Andi, but God had blessed her with so much.  For a moment, she found herself wondering what would come next, but before she could pursue the thought, Charlotte interrupted her musings.

  “Tell us another of your childhood memories, Mother,” she begged, still smiling over the last tale.

  Andi smiled back, but shook her head.  “Maybe another time.  I really should get to the dishes.  I've let them stack up since I started baking.”

  Riley gave her a look that pointed out that after all these years, she still had a habit of avoiding unwashed dishes for as long as she could.  She dismissed his amused look with a wave of her hand, but her eyes twinkled.

  “Mother.”  Lillian sat up, as if an idea had just struck her.  “You should write your stories into a book.”

  “I already have recorded many of them in my journals,” Andi explained, looking at her in surprise.  “You've read them before.”

  “But I mean a published book.  There are many authors and publishers today.  It would be truly possible to have your own stories published, if you wrote them.”

  “Me?  Write stories?”

  “Well yes, Mother.  We all love hearing your stories—why not share them with others?”  Lillian looked around the table.  “Don't you all think Mother's stories would make an intriguing book?”

  “Sure,” Riley agreed with a grin.  “I'm sure everyone would enjoy hearing about how many misadventures and scrapes Andi got out of.”

  Andi attempted a glare at him, but she couldn't keep from laughing.  She stood and began to stack the empty dinner plates on top of one another.  “But seriously, you are the writer in the family, Lilly, not me.”

  “You always told me you enjoyed writing in your journals.  Besides, I could help you gather the stories from them,” the young woman persisted, rising to help clear the table.  “You've already written most of your stories down—all you need is to put them together.”

  “But who would want to read them?”

  “A friend of mine in the city is always asking me to tell her stories about life on the ranch.  She said she finds the ways of life in the west very interesting.  If she is so interested in those stories, then wouldn't there be others?”

  Andi looked at her daughter doubtfully.  “I don't know, Lillian.  I've never done anything like it before—never written anything that so many people would read and judge.  My writings were just for my personal enjoyment, a way to remember important events and my thoughts on them.  I always envisioned my children and maybe even my descendants reading my work one day, but not hundreds of strangers.”

  “But it wouldn't hurt to try, would it?”  Charlotte asked, her interest growing.  “It would be an adventure.”

  Andi smiled despite herself.  An adventure unlike any she had ever had.  But when had she ever said no to an adventure?

  She shook her head at her thoughts.  Trouble and excitement had seemed to follow her for most of her life, but now she was content to just enjoy her family and time with her children and grandchildren.  That was her life now.  She didn't need anything more—did she?

  “You could just start writing and see where it goes,” Lillian encouraged in one last attempt.  “Then you could decide if you would truly like to pursue it.”

  “Alright.”  Andi stacked the last dish on her pile and headed for the kitchen.  “I'll give it a try.  But I can't promise anything will come out of it.”

~ ~ ~

  Andi sat down at her desk late the next afternoon, glad for the chance to rest.  But her thoughts were not as quiet as the rest of the house was—she couldn't get the idea of writing out of her mind.  Maybe it wouldn't hurt to try—she had enjoyed writing in her journals for so long, why would this be any different?  All she had to do was write down the memories of her childhood and growing up years.  How hard could it be?

  Andi picked up the pencil and stared at the journal in front of her.  But where to start?  There were so many stories, so many memories.  With a smile, Andi began her first sentence.

  She was curious and adventurous, that girl from Circle C Ranch...

~ ~ ~

  Once she began writing, Andi found that the words flowed easily from her thoughts to the page.  As she wrote down the stories, familiar emotions flooded through her all over again—excitement over her adventures, deep sorrow over the loss of her father, shock at realizing she had a long-lost sister, fear at the memories of her kidnappings, joy over marrying Riley.  Tears came to her eyes as she recounted the loss of her beloved horse Taffy, and she laughed out loud at the memory of school incidents.  She shuttered, as she thought of the dangerous criminals she had come face-to-face with, and she paused amazed at the transformations in old foes, such as how Jed Hatton, Felicity Livingston Bradford, and her brother-in-law Troy, had come to know Christ and how they had all changed for the better.

  By the time Andi stopped for the day, she was spent, but happy.  Excited for what she had accomplished, she knew she still had so much more to tell.

  As the weeks passed, she continued writing all she could, getting lost in the memories of her childhood and reliving her days as a young woman.  Lillian soon began helping her revise her writings and go through her journals' stories, and Andi's excitement rose with each new chapter she wrote.

  By the time Andi held a finished draft of her collected stories in her hands months later, she could hardly believe she had actually written a book.  Glancing over at her daughter, Andi shook her head.

  “I could never have imagined I'd be able to do something like this,” she mused.  “But I could never have done it without you, Lilly.  I really do appreciate all you did, from the help with writing and editing, to finding me a potential publisher.”

  “It was my absolute pleasure.”  Lillian smiled.  “It is exciting, isn't it?  I do hope they will accept it.  You've worked so hard.”

  “Well, no matter what happens, I'm glad I did it.”

  But in the back of her mind, she was already picturing a published book in her hands.

~ ~ ~

  The sound of a wagon approaching made Andi look up from drying a plate.  Out the window, a familiar horse and buggy quickly came into view, stopping in front of the house.  Andi hurried to put the plate down and rushed to the back door, her heart quickening its pace.

  “Lilly, what's wrong?”

  Lillian stepped from the buggy and waved an envelope in her hand.  “Nothing, nothing at all!  But I had to come here as soon as I got this.”  She hurried up the stairs to meet Andi on the porch, then presented her the letter.  “Look!”

  Andi took the paper in her hands and scanned the return address.  She quickly looked back up at Lillian in surprise.  “The publisher.”

  Lillian nodded, still breathless but smiling.  “It just came.  I couldn't wait for you to find out, so I brought it out here myself.  Open it.”

  Drawing a deep breath, Andi slit open the envelope and began to take out a piece of typed paper, when Riley stepped up to the house.

  “What's this?  Lilly, what are you doing here?”

  “Mama just got a letter of response,” the young woman explained.  “She's about to see what the editor said.”

  “I'm sure it's only the best of news,” Riley assured Andi, following them inside.

  Andi gave him a grateful smile, before pulling out the letter.  Her eyes darted across the page, and then suddenly she stopped.  The words were clear as day, but she couldn't bring herself to believe them.

  “What is it, Andi?”  Riley looked at her in concern.  “Is something wrong?”

  “They—they rejected the book.  They said it wasn't what they were looking for.”

  Lillian looked at her mother sympathetically.  “Oh Mama, I'm so sorry.”

  Andi stared down at the letter, disappointment threatening to overwhelm her.  I don't understand.  I worked so hard.  I thought for sure they'd—

  Andi folded the letter quickly.  “Never mind.  What's done is done.  Now then, I'd better start supper.  The time is getting so late.  Lillian, would you like to stay for supper?”

  “I wish I could, but I have to return home now.  I'm sorry.  Is there anything I can do?”

  “Not a thing.”  Andi forced a smile.  “Thank you anyway.”

  Lillian glanced toward her father for a second, then left after saying goodbye.  Andi turned to the stove, busying herself with supper preparations.

  Riley stepped up to her.  “Are you alright, Andi?”

  “Of course I am.  Why wouldn't I be?”  She moved to the table and began kneading the dough she had left out earlier.

  “Well, you were so hopeful that the story would be accepted.  I thought this might be hard for you.”

  “I'll be fine, really.”  She concentrated on the dough, pressing it down a bit too forcefully.  “I'm just a little disappointed, that's all.”

  She felt his continued stare and knew he wasn't at all reassured by her answer.  Finally, however, he put his hat on and headed for the door.  “Alright then.  I'll finish up the chores and be in for supper in a little while.”

  She nodded.  “It'll be ready.”

  As soon as the door closed behind Riley, Andi stopped kneading and let everything sink in.  Why hadn't they accepted her book?  What had she done wrong?     Despite her resolve not to break down, tears of disappointment stung her eyes.  She had thought this was her chance to do something important, to accomplish something great.  But her hopes had been dashed with the rejection.

~ ~ ~

  The gray skies and rainy days that followed matched her disheartened mood.  Andi went through the chores of each day, running over and over through her mind questions of why?  What had she done wrong?  How could she have changed it?

  She tried to shake off her unhappiness—it was only a single rejection, a denied chance to do something she had never even contemplated before now.  But it weighed heavy on her, those feelings of disappointment and rejection—and Riley knew it.

  “Andi, you're not fine, even if you said so.  I know you better than that.”

  Andi looked up from a book she had been blankly staring at, startled by her husband's sudden words.  He leaned forward in his own chair by the fireplace, his gaze intently on her.

  “Every time I've asked, you've said you were fine,” he continued gently, “but I can see that something is still bothering you.  Won't you tell me?”

  She glanced away, knowing full well that he was right.  She had been denying that anything was wrong, to Riley and to herself, but she knew she couldn't keep her feelings locked up.

  “Oh Riley,” she burst out, throwing up her hands in desperation.  “I don't know what's wrong with me.  I can't seem to let go of the fact that they rejected it.”

  He nodded in understanding, his expression softening.  “Your book.”

  “Yes.  I just thought this was my chance to accomplish something grand.  I thought I would be able to write something that hundreds of people could read.  I just—”  Her words faltered, and she looked away.

  “Andi.”  Riley bent his head to catch her gaze.  “You can still share your work with others.  Maybe not on that big of a scale, but your friends and family will still enjoy it.  But even if only a handful of people read your stories, they are the ones who care the most, because they are the people who love you.  You don't need the achievement of being a published writer, because your greatest achievements have been your service to the Lord and your roles as a daughter, wife, and mother.  Do you believe that?”

  Andi nodded, adding softly, “I do, and I couldn't ask for more than what God has already blessed us with.  It's just...I was so very much anticipating having my stories published.  I was hoping to share my stories to inspire others, and to show what it was like to live on a ranch in the 1880s.  To maybe leave a mark in history.”

  “And maybe you will,” Riley encouraged her with a smile.  “Who knows?  Maybe your stories will be passed on through our family for many generations to come.  You never know who you might influence, Andi.”

  Andi smiled back.  “Maybe.  All I can do is wonder, I suppose.  That, and tell you how much your words mean to me.  I'm sorry I let this rejection get the best of me.”

  Riley reached for her hand and covered it with his own.  “It's alright.  I know it was a great disappointment, but just remember that God is the only One who can give you true satisfaction.”

  “Yes, I know.”  She smiled.  “I just needed to be reminded of it.”

  Even at that moment, she was praying,  Lord, please help me to find contentment in You and You alone.

  In that moment, she found comfort in knowing she had lived her life for Christ, and in that there was no greater joy.  Her life was a story, but God was not done writing it.  How many more adventures she would go on, she didn't know.  But she was here—now.  She would find joy in today's journey—the blessings of the present.

~ ~ ~

  December 2012,

  Rose held the freshly-printed copy in her hands and smiled.  The cover showed a cowboy hat and a basket of produce and was titled A Bountiful Life.  What would her ancestor think if she could see this copy of the published work?  Surely she would be proud.

  Now so many others would have the chance to know the amazing story of a woman who had experienced so many adventures and so much blessing—her ancestor, Andrea Carter Prescott.