Tears of Two

Sarah cleared her throat. "Probably His doing. That's what." She lifted her chin heavenward and nodded. "It's what He's gone and done, Miss Louisa."

Both Annabelle's and Auntie's eyes shot up. "What's probably His doing?" Auntie moved toward her.

Sarah's hands went to her hips. "It's plain as the hair on a body's head, it is. This poor little lass, she don’t got the wheeze like her big sister. But she come born with one foot turned in, Miss Louisa. Crippled as can be, that's what the lassie is. Come to us crook when she popped out, she did. Won't never amount to much in this world, I'm thinking." Sarah sniffed. "And here it is, the Lord Baby Jesus's birthday. That's what God's gone and done, that's what. Don't sound like much of a Christmas present, do it, miss?" Her scowl increased. Annabelle wished she hadn’t heard that. Her heart pressed hard against her chest like a steady drumbeat as she struggled against her emotions.

"Are you saying this child is lame?" Auntie pulled back the baby's covers to see for herself. "Surely the impairment should work itself out."

Annabelle studied the bundle resting in her aunt's arms. How could it? If God did it, then all hope is lost.

Sarah scurried away, but still burbled loud enough for Annabelle to decipher most of her words. "If you want to know what I think, God's got Himself good and mad, that's what. Mad at her." She nodded toward the bed. "Any soul can rightly see such a thing. And it's all Miss Annabelle's doin', it is."

Annabelle choked in her growing guilt. Her aunt, on the other hand, closed her eyes as if prayer was her only answer. Perhaps Auntie was also considering the words one very outspoken servant had spewed and how lost the situation had become.