again. I'm Mr. Chris."
Before she had time to say anything—about the car or the hill or the trouble or anything else—he laughed and said, "Can you smell that, Marly? Did you get that whiff just then from the sugarhouse? I told my wife this morning, this time Lee's coming for the first breath of spring."
She had got it. It was absolute sweetness, like a drift of scent from a lilac bush. Like passing an orchard in full bloom. But different. A different sweetness—
"Your great-grandma used to say there was all outdoors in that smell," Mr. Chris said. "She called it the first miracle when the sap came up."
She looked up at him in surprise. So that's where Mother had got the idea of the miracles.
"Where are your folks? At the house?" he asked.
In two minutes they were on the way to the rescue. There were two big horses that he used to gather sap from trees on the steep hills where a tractor would go head-over-wheels, he said. But the tractor was the thing to take that car home in a hurry. Marly sat beside him. The tractor was bright orange against the snow. She felt like a queen in a high chariot as they rolled off along the little road among the trees.
2. Meet Mr. Chris
Marly knew it was sad for Joe, but she couldn't help being pleased by the flabbergasted look on his face. He was just plowing his way past the mailbox saying
J. Chris
when they came along behind him. She was still riding high on the tractor with Mr. Chris, and the car came along behind like a good little poodle on a chain.
"I found Mr. Chris!" she called to Joe. "I saw the smoke and found Mr. Chris!"
She knew Daddy would be disgusted at her for bragging, but after all, Joe had to be told, didn't he? He stood with his eyes sticking out like a snail's.
"And you're Joe," Mr. Chris said. He leaned down and took Joe's shoulder in his big hand and shook him the way you shake somebody you love and are glad to see. "How'd you get up that hill so fast? I told your mother nobody'd make it today without snowshoes."
Joe smiled and felt better again right away. Mr. Chris was a man who wanted everybody to feel all right. Marly felt a tickle of shame about bragging to make Joe feel bad—but she hoped Joe felt a tickle of shame, too, for leaving her behind.
If he did, it didn't show. He jumped onto the tractor and nearly pushed her off.
"Careful there. Room for everybody," Mr. Chris said.
They rolled down the lane to the big house. A lady came out on the porch with her arms folded in her apron to keep warm. She had the most beautiful white hair Marly had ever seen. Great Grandma must have looked like that whenever Mother came for a visit to Maple Hill, Marly thought. But this was Mrs. Chris.
"Chrissie, they're here!" Mr. Chris called. "You know what—I had to get them up that hill, just like you said I would."
You would have thought Mr. Chris and Chrissie were real relations and not just neighbors that Mother used to know. Everybody was hugging and kissing and crying out each other's names. "Lee! How wonderful ... Why, you've hardly changed. Surely this isn't Marly. And Joe. But I've still been thinking they were babies..."
Daddy stood back of it, alone, the way he usually did at home when friends came to call. But Mother, as always, turned to find him. "Chrissie—this is Dale," she said.
Her voice was even more special when she said, "This is Dale," than it was when she said, "This is Marly," or "This is Joe." Marly loved the voice and the look that seemed to say:
Isn't he wonderful? And isn't it wonderful he is here when he was gone so long and everybody thought he might never come home again?
Mrs. Chris kissed Daddy and then stood back with her hands on his shoulders, looking at him. "You look like your picture, except you're not as thin as you were. I cut it out of the newspaper, and it's posted on my kitchen wall."
Daddy stood rather stiffly, the way he always did when people talked about what a hero he was and how much they'd heard about
Before she had time to say anything—about the car or the hill or the trouble or anything else—he laughed and said, "Can you smell that, Marly? Did you get that whiff just then from the sugarhouse? I told my wife this morning, this time Lee's coming for the first breath of spring."
She had got it. It was absolute sweetness, like a drift of scent from a lilac bush. Like passing an orchard in full bloom. But different. A different sweetness—
"Your great-grandma used to say there was all outdoors in that smell," Mr. Chris said. "She called it the first miracle when the sap came up."
She looked up at him in surprise. So that's where Mother had got the idea of the miracles.
"Where are your folks? At the house?" he asked.
In two minutes they were on the way to the rescue. There were two big horses that he used to gather sap from trees on the steep hills where a tractor would go head-over-wheels, he said. But the tractor was the thing to take that car home in a hurry. Marly sat beside him. The tractor was bright orange against the snow. She felt like a queen in a high chariot as they rolled off along the little road among the trees.
2. Meet Mr. Chris
Marly knew it was sad for Joe, but she couldn't help being pleased by the flabbergasted look on his face. He was just plowing his way past the mailbox saying
J. Chris
when they came along behind him. She was still riding high on the tractor with Mr. Chris, and the car came along behind like a good little poodle on a chain.
"I found Mr. Chris!" she called to Joe. "I saw the smoke and found Mr. Chris!"
She knew Daddy would be disgusted at her for bragging, but after all, Joe had to be told, didn't he? He stood with his eyes sticking out like a snail's.
"And you're Joe," Mr. Chris said. He leaned down and took Joe's shoulder in his big hand and shook him the way you shake somebody you love and are glad to see. "How'd you get up that hill so fast? I told your mother nobody'd make it today without snowshoes."
Joe smiled and felt better again right away. Mr. Chris was a man who wanted everybody to feel all right. Marly felt a tickle of shame about bragging to make Joe feel bad—but she hoped Joe felt a tickle of shame, too, for leaving her behind.
If he did, it didn't show. He jumped onto the tractor and nearly pushed her off.
"Careful there. Room for everybody," Mr. Chris said.
They rolled down the lane to the big house. A lady came out on the porch with her arms folded in her apron to keep warm. She had the most beautiful white hair Marly had ever seen. Great Grandma must have looked like that whenever Mother came for a visit to Maple Hill, Marly thought. But this was Mrs. Chris.
"Chrissie, they're here!" Mr. Chris called. "You know what—I had to get them up that hill, just like you said I would."
You would have thought Mr. Chris and Chrissie were real relations and not just neighbors that Mother used to know. Everybody was hugging and kissing and crying out each other's names. "Lee! How wonderful ... Why, you've hardly changed. Surely this isn't Marly. And Joe. But I've still been thinking they were babies..."
Daddy stood back of it, alone, the way he usually did at home when friends came to call. But Mother, as always, turned to find him. "Chrissie—this is Dale," she said.
Her voice was even more special when she said, "This is Dale," than it was when she said, "This is Marly," or "This is Joe." Marly loved the voice and the look that seemed to say:
Isn't he wonderful? And isn't it wonderful he is here when he was gone so long and everybody thought he might never come home again?
Mrs. Chris kissed Daddy and then stood back with her hands on his shoulders, looking at him. "You look like your picture, except you're not as thin as you were. I cut it out of the newspaper, and it's posted on my kitchen wall."
Daddy stood rather stiffly, the way he always did when people talked about what a hero he was and how much they'd heard about
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