A Faith that Sees

Knocking on the door of someone he hardly knew wasn’t on Philip’s typical list of things to do, but today it was the first task he needed to get done. Might as well get it over with.

His bootsteps echoed on the porch boards as he stomped to the door and knocked with his fist. Stepping back, he waited. He took off his cap and ran a hand over his rumpled iron hair, then put it back on and tapped the toes of his boots on the porch, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets to keep them warm. Just as he was about to knock a little louder, the door opened, and a smiling woman greeted him with a pleasant “Good morning.”

Philip stepped back and tipped the bill of his cap. “Mornin.’”

Wiping her hands on her blue gingham apron, she said, “You must be here to see Rusty.”

“Yes, ma’am. Is he home?”

She tucked a strand of hair behind one ear. “He’s in the barn. I would show you where, but I’m frying bacon right now, so I can’t leave the kitchen for long.” She smiled apologetically.

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll find him just fine on my own.”

—

Philip grumbled to himself as he plodded toward the barn. Don’t see why Rusty couldn’t have just told me to go straight to the barn and saved me the trouble of knocking on his door. He kicked an errant pebble off the narrow path, skidding it onto the light dusting of snow covering the ground. 

When he reached the barn, the sound of a child’s laughter stopped him in his tracks. Philip halted in the doorway, his gaze fixed on the small girl sitting in the straw. She cradled a puppy in her arms, combing her fingers through its glowing golden fur in delight. The wriggling puppy licked her face with its dainty tongue, bringing another giggle. 

Watching her, Philip’s jaw loosened, and he found himself grinning just a little. There was nothing quite like a child playing with a puppy. It had been a while since he had seen someone look so happy or since he’d felt that way himself. He didn’t want to break the moment, but he had to if he was going to accomplish what he’d come there for. He stepped forward, and the barn door creaked. 

Rusty turned toward the sound and saw Philip standing there. “Come on in,” he said, gesturing with his arm to the fenced-in section housing the puppies. 

“Don’t mind if I do.” Philip entered and stood alongside Rusty, leaning his elbows on the fence surrounding the little girl and the litter of puppies he had come to see. The two men stood in silence for a while watching the puppies. In the left corner, the little girl continued cuddling her puppy. Three others wrestled and tumbled in the middle, punctuating the air with play growls. Another puppy lay curled in the right corner, content to watch its siblings without joining in their rowdy play.

Rusty broke the silence. “So which one are you thinking about?”

Philip scratched his jaw. “Haven’t decided yet. I’m still considering.”

“It might help your decision making to know that my mother came by yesterday and staked her claim on one of the bigger males” —Rusty pointed to one of the puppies in the middle—“while Faye here has taken a fancy to the runt of the litter. She’s a sweet girl.” He smiled fondly, crinkles fanning their way across his lined and weathered face.

“The girl or the puppy?”

“Both, actually, but I was talking about Faye.”

“She your granddaughter?”

“Daughter.”  Rusty uncurled his fingers from the fence railing and propped his chin in one hand, letting the other dangle over the fence. He glanced toward Philip thoughtfully. “Natalia and I didn’t become parents until later in life.”

“That so?”

“It wasn’t for lack of trying, that’s for sure.” Rusty’s gaze drifted away, landing to rest on Faye again. “We prayed for a baby for years, but we didn’t get the answer we wanted until seven years ago when Faye was born. Even though the answer was longer in coming than we would have liked, I can’t complain. I’m thankful for God’s gifts whenever He gives them.”

“That sounds like something my grandmother would have said. She was into that God stuff.”

Rusty looked back at Philip, one eyebrow raised in a question mark. 

Something about Rusty’s steady gaze unsettled Philip. “I, uh, I believe in God,” he stammered. “I mean, I guess there’s a big guy up there somewhere.” He gazed up at the cobweb-strewn rafters. “I don’t rightly know. I’m pretty sure whoever is in charge of this world doesn’t care much about me, though. Don’t see why he’d want something to do with me.” 

As soon as he said it, Philip wondered where that had come from. He wasn’t one to say much, particularly to folks he didn’t know that well. But Rusty seemed like someone he could trust.

Rusty furrowed his eyebrows. “Why do you say that?”

Philip wished he’d brought a toothpick to chew on. That would help him think. His gaze dropped downward, landing on the puppies. “Well, it’s a lot like those pups. People pick the biggest and best first. The other ones get passed on by just ‘cause they’re not good enough. I’m one of those that didn’t get chosen—just a dead-end guy with a dead-end life.”

His mouth seemed to have taken on a life of its own. What was going on with him? This conversation was going somewhere he’d never intended. Time to get back to the matter at hand.

“Anyhow,” he hurried on, “I’m thinkin’ that one there in the corner would be alright. Mind if I go in there?”

“Go ahead.”

With a grunt and a sigh, Philip heaved himself over the fence and settled into the straw in a clumsy heap, landing in the corner where Faye was. As he got into a less uncomfortable position, the edge of his coat sleeve brushed Faye’s shoulder. The girl turned to face him, still clutching the puppy close to her chest.

“That’s a cute puppy you’ve got there,” he told her. 

When she heard the word “puppy,” Faye grinned and held out the puppy toward him. “For you,” she lisped.

Philip glanced back at Rusty, whose eyes glistened with a thin sheen of tears as he watched the scene unfold. He nodded his approval.

“That’s awfully kind of you,” Philip said as he reached to take the puppy. But Faye didn’t hand her over to him right away. 

“Just one condition,” she said. Philip raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Her name is Faith.”

Philip let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Okay.” He accepted the puppy with open hands and let her wriggle into a ball on his lap. He even let out a chuckle when she nipped his finger. Philip scolded himself. He must be getting soft in his old age.

As he looked into the puppy’s milky blue eyes, Philip realized something. Holding Faith at arm’s length, he slowly got up and walked over to the fence where Rusty waited. He spoke in a low voice so Faye wouldn’t hear. “Is Faith blind?” 

Philip didn’t think about how that sounded until he noticed Rusty’s lips turn up in a lopsided smile. “‘Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen,’” he recited. “Hebrews 11:1.”

Philip glared at him. “You a preacher or something? You know that’s not what I was talking about.”

“I’m no preacher, but I believe in the power of God’s Word.” Rusty leaned back, resting the heel of his boot on the lowest rung of the fence. “And I’m not so sure that wasn’t what you were asking about.”

“You know full well I was talking about this puppy right here.” Philip’s hackles were up again. “Is she blind? I’m not talking about me.”

Rusty closed his eyes for a few seconds before answering in a voice as soft and low as a deep river. “She is.” He swallowed. “I think that’s why Faye liked her from the start. She sees things others don’t.”

“What do you mean?” The longer this man talked, the more of a mystery he became. 

“Faith has . . . a different kind of sight. So does Faye.” Rusty fiddled with a piece of straw on his sleeve. “It goes beyond the physical kind.”

The light finally dawned in Philip’s mind. “You mean your daughter is blind too?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Philip couldn’t think of anything more to say. Clumsily, he tried to redirect the conversation. “How much do you want for the pup?” He placed the puppy back on the straw and started to reach for the billfold in his back pocket.

“I would never sell her to you. She’s a gift.”

“You sure about that?”

“Positive. Don’t try to convince me otherwise.”

“Well, alright. I guess if you say so.” Philip shifted from one foot to another, not sure what to do next.

Rusty extended his hand in invitation. “You’re welcome to stay awhile, if you’d like. Natalia should have breakfast ready by now. Does bacon and eggs sound good to you?”

Philip opened his mouth to decline, but what came out instead was, “Sure, that’d be alright.” 

Now he wondered what he was in for. What had he said yes to? Somehow he sensed it involved more than just breakfast. Might as well find out.

Rusty nodded. “We can talk more inside,” he said as he led the way back home. 

(to be continued)