Dear Diary,
I was stirred awake by my mothers groan. I shuffled over to her bedside.
Mum, does it hurt? I asked.
Tommy, fetch some water! she rasped.
On it, I darted to the kitchen and returned a minute later with a full mug.
Here, mum, drink up, I said.
A sudden knock on the door broke the quiet.
Son, get it open! Its probably Aunt Nora, called a voice.
Our neighbour, Mrs. Wilson, slipped in, clutching a large teacup.
How are you, Blythe? she cooed, patting my head. Youve got a fever. Ive brought you hot milk with a knob of butter.
Ive already taken the medicine, I muttered.
You need to be in hospital. Proper treatment is essential. You should eat properly, but your fridge is empty.
Aunt Nora, Ive spent every penny on medicine, I choked, tears welling. Nothing seems to work.
You must be admitted, she urged.
Who will look after Tommy? I asked, panic rising.
If I die, who will watch over you? Youre not even thirty, you have no husband, no money, she soothed, smoothing my hair. Dont weep, love.
What should I do? I begged.
Ill call a doctor, Mrs. Wilson said, pulling out her phone. She dialed, spoke, and after a few minutes said, Theyll send someone today. Ill go with you, and well bring Tommy along.
Mrs. Wilson left the hallway; I followed her.
Aunt Nora, will Mum die? I asked, desperation in my voice.
I dont know. We must pray to the Lord for help, though she doesnt believe, she replied.
Will the Good Lord help? I asked, hope flickering in my eyes.
You need to go to church, light a candle, and ask. Ill be right behind you, she promised.
***
When I returned to Mum, she looked weary.
Tommy, you probably want something to eat, but theres nothing left. Bring two glasses, she said.
I fetched the milk, and she poured it into the glasses.
Drink, she urged.
I drank, but my stomach still rumbled. Emily sensed it instantly, rose with effort, and fished a wallet from the table.
£5. Go buy two rolls and eat on the way, Ill whip up something, she instructed. Quick!
She escorted me to the door, then lingered by the kitchen wall. Inside the fridge lay cheap tinned fish, a slab of margarine, and on the windowsill a few potatoes and an onion.
I need to make soup she whispered, her head drooping onto a stool.
Whats happening to me? she thought, exhausted. Half my holiday is gone, my moneys spent. If I dont get back to work, how will I send Tommy to school? Hell be starting first grade next month. No relatives, no help. This illness I should have gone to the clinic ages ago. If they admit me, who will look after Tommy alone?
She forced herself up and began peeling the potatoes.
***
Hunger gnawed at me, but my thoughts were elsewhere.
Will Mum ever get up from that bed? Could she truly die? Aunt Nora said I must pray to the Good Lord, I mused, then turned toward the church.
***
Half a year after returning from the army, IArthur Whitakerstill limped with a cane, scarred all over. The wounds on my body no longer bothered me, but the faces of two fallen friends haunted me. I stood outside the village church where the poor gathered, pulled out a few tenpound notes and handed them out.
Pray for my fallen mates, Tom and Sam! I urged.
Inside, I bought candles, lit them, and recited the prayer the vicar had taught me:
Remember us, O Lord, our God
As I crossed myself, the faces of Tom and Sam seemed to stand before me, as vivid as if alive. When the prayer ended, I lingered, reflecting on my hard life.
A thin, shy boyTommystood by a cheap candle, eyes wide. An elderly lady approached.
Let me help you, she said, lighting his candle.
Now cross yourself properly, she showed him. Tell the Lord why youre here.
Tommy stared at the crucifix, then whispered, Help me, Lord! My mum is ill, I have no one else. She cant afford medicine. Im about to start school and I dont even have a satchel.
I stood frozen, hearing his plea. My own troublesrent, pension, lingering war memoriesshrank in comparison. I felt a surge to shout, Is there really no one to buy a mothers medicine and a boys schoolbag?
Tommy waited, hopeful.
Come with me, I said decisively.
Where to? he asked, eyes trembling.
Well find out which medicines Mum needs and head to the chemist.
Are you serious? he asked.
The Lord sent me your prayer, I replied.
Really? His face lit up.
Lets go, I smiled. Whats your name?
Tommy Clarke.
Im Arthur Whitaker.
***
From the flat, voices roseMum and Mrs. Wilson.
Aunt Nora, the doctor said the medicine is expensive. Ive only got £5 left, Emily whispered, tears welling.
Tommy flung the door open; the voices fell silent. Mrs. Wilson peeked out, eyes wide.
Tommy, look! she gasped.
Emily emerged, equally startled.
Mum, what medicines do you need? Arthur and I will fetch them, I offered.
What are you? Emily asked, bewildered.
Itll be alright, I reassured, smiling. Give us the prescriptions.
But I only have £5.
Well find the money, I placed a hand on Tommys shoulder.
Give us the prescriptions, please, Emily said, handing them over. Something soft in her eyes told me this roughlooking man had a kind heart.
Emily, what are you doing? Mrs. Wilson exclaimed when we left. You dont even know him.
Aunt Nora, I think hes a good man! she whispered.
Alright, Blythe, Im off, she said, hurrying away.
***
Emily sat waiting for her son, forgetting her own pain. At last the door burst open; Tommys face beamed.
Mum, we bought the medicine and some treats for tea, he announced.
A man stood in the doorway, smiling shyly, his oncegrim visage now softened.
Thank you, Emily said, bowing slightly. Please, come in.
He shuffled in, struggling with his cane, then made his way to the kitchen.
Sit down, the lady urged.
He seated himself, turning his head unsure where to set his cane.
Let me help with that, I placed it within reach. Im afraid I have little to offer you for a meal.
Tommy, Arthur and I have bought everything, I said, laying out the groceries on the table.
Oh, you didnt have to! Emily exclaimed, noting the mix of biscuits, a packet of pricey tea, and a few sweets. She hurried to brew the tea, feeling a warmth spread through her that she could almost swear was the illness receding.
Emily, you look pale, Arthur asked gently.
Nothing, Ill take my medicine now. Thank you, she replied, sipping the tea.
We drank the fragrant tea with sweets, glancing at Tommy, who chatted animatedly. Our eyes met now and then, and the atmosphere felt warm and hopeful. Yet, as with all good things, it would eventually end.
Thank you, truly, Arthur rose, gripping his cane. I must be going. You have your recovery to tend to.
Thank you so much! Emily rose too. Im not sure how to thank you properly.
He headed toward the hallway, with Emily and her son following.
Will you come back, Uncle Arthur? Emily called.
Of course! Once your mum is better, well all go shopping for your school bag together, he promised.
He left, and Emily cleared the table, washed the dishes, and said, Tommy, turn on the telly while I rest a bit. She lay down and fell into a deep sleep.
***
Two weeks later her illness had eased, the expensive medicine doing its work. By months end, she was back to work, grateful for the pay that would tide them over. August was beginning, and she needed to ready Tommy for school.
That Saturday they rose as usual, ate breakfast.
Tommy, get ready! Well go to the shop and see what you need for school, Emily said.
Did you get the money? she asked.
Not yet, but by next Saturday therell be a payment. Ive borrowed a hundred pounds; well pick up some groceries on the way back, she explained.
They were about to leave when the intercom chimed.
Whos there? Emily asked.
Its Arthur, a voice replied.
She pressed the button, and the door clicked open.
Tommy, whos that? he asked, peeking out.
Uncle Arthur! Emilys eyes lit up. Hooray!
He stepped in, leaning on his cane, but his appearance had changedsmart trousers, a crisp shirt, a neat haircut.
Tommy, Ive been waiting for you, he exclaimed, rushing forward.
I promised you, Arthur said, eyes shining. Good to see you, Emily!
Good to see you too, Arthur! she replied, the transition to first names surprising yet heartening.
Are you ready? Lets go! he urged.
Where to? Emily, still a little stunned, asked.
Tommys school start is near, Arthur said. I promised him Id help, and promises must be kept.
Emily, ever careful with money, always hunted for bargains. She had no relatives, no husband, no spare cash. The only man in her life had vanished after college.
Now, a man stood beside her, eyes full of affection for her son, ready to buy everything without fretting over price, merely asking for her opinion.
They piled into a taxi and headed home.
In the kitchen, Arthur paused.
Emily, shall we go for a walk together after this? Maybe have lunch somewhere? he suggested.
Come on, Mum, lets go! Tommy shouted, eager.
***
That night Emily lay awake, replaying the days events. Her mind argued with her heart.
Hes lame and not handsome, reason whispered, she thought.
But hes kind, gentle, and looks at me with love, her heart replied.
Hes fifteen years older than me, reason persisted.
So what? He treats my son like his own child, her heart countered.
You could find a younger, dashing man, reason suggested.
No need for a pretty face; Ive already had one. I need someone reliable and good, her heart declared.
Yet you never dreamed of this kind of partner, reason scoffed.
And now I do! her heart insisted.
Your preferences are changing too fast? reason asked.
I met him I love him! her heart shouted.
Our wedding took place in the same village church where Arthur and Tommy first met three months earlier. Arthur stood beside Emily, his cane now set aside, while Tommy gazed at the saints statue hed prayed to months before. With all sincerity, Arthur whispered:
Thank you, Lord.
Looking back, I realize that when we open our hearts to helpeven strangerswe discover strength we never knew we had. The lesson I carry forward is simple: compassion not only heals others; it mends the healer as well.
