Faith and Mercy

Faith was poised on the back of the sofa with her trusty companion Mercy, the miracle dog. Leaning on the corduroy cushions, both peered out the window at the front yard as Mother Nature turned Fall into Winter without regard for the calendar. The first snow of the season fell with a whisper and reminded Faith of when her mother sprinkled powder sugar on top of brownies. Mercy mimicked the look of anticipation on Faith’s face as well as her pose and posture. Faith’s mother couldn’t help but smile at the sight that was framed perfectly in the reflection in the pane of the front window of the living room. She imagined Hallmark would love to have this scene on the front of this year’s Christmas card. Faith barely noticed her mom come into the room and Mercy, the miracle dogs, only acknowledgement was a quick wag of his tail.

“Faith, honey, you’ll be late for school”,

Faith’s mother spoke softly so as not to startle her eight year old daughter and she felt as though her comment was an interruption to something more important than a prompt arrival to school.

“O.k., mommy. But Mercy, the miracle dog and me are just gonna wait for him a little longer”, answered Faith in a hopeful and cheery tone.

“Wait, honey? Wait for what?”, asked her mother, a question that begged an endless possibility of answers.

Faith’s imagination was vivid and extraordinary, even for an eight-year-old girl. It’s one of the reasons that Faith dubbed that funny little beagle of hers Mercy the Miracle Dog. Miracle dog indeed.

“Frosty, mommy, me and Mercy are waiting for Frosty to come back.”

“Oh god, that was the day of days”, thought Faith’s mother. The day Frosty the snowman appeared near the front driveway. It was the coldest spring Flynt Michigan had seen in years. And the hardest and coldest snow came at the end. Faith’s mother tried to hide her tears when she picked Faith up from school that day. She’d been laid off. After 13 years she was given a speech about automation or slow sales or manpower or seniority or something by someone from Human Resources that seemed more concerned with how sincere the speech sounded than the true impact of its content. She was given a three months pay and some other lingering benefits and was allowed 30 minutes to clear the belongings from her desk. Three months pay wouldn’t go far considering that she was a single parent and, among other things, had a mortgage for the home that she refused to give up even after the financial realities of the loss of Faith’s father became apparent some years before. Luckily, Faith barely noticed her mother’s despair as she filled the car with a detailed account of her day at school. The short ride home ended with the same question that it had for the past week and a half.

“Mommy, what shall we name our puppy?”

“Oh, sweetie, I don’t know. It’s up to you”, the same answer that Faith’s mother provided each time the question was asked.

“One more mouth to feed”, she thought, “Just what I need”. Faith’s mother thought that eight was an appropriate age for a young girl to have a puppy. Faith had all but begged for a puppy for her birthday for months. The first time Faith set eyes on that dog she knew it was special. Faith’s mother finally gave in to Faith; more from the look of adoration in her daughter’s eyes then the endless requests for a new puppy.

Upon entering the house that fateful day, Faith was greeted by a wet nose, a tail that sped from side to side and a piddle on the floor. Faith began recounting her day to her faithful companion as he jumped excitedly at her knees.

“Faith, honey, take him out so he can do his business. But be quick about it, it’s freezing out there… and don’t forget his leash and collar, honey.”

“Come on boy”, Faith urged as she corralled her puppy out the side door.

The cold air struck Faith’s mother and brought her back to the reality that the day’s events had given. She watched Faith and wondered how and where she would find another job. The thought of needing work and paying bills and the care of her small family was overwhelming.

As Faith’s mother opened the day’s mail, she instinctively glanced outside to check on Faith and her puppy. “Where on earth did that come from?” She silently asked as she observed Faith apparently having a conversation with a snowman that was standing along the front curb. “I don’t remember seeing him on the way up the driveway.” How could she have missed him remained a mystery to this day. He was the perfect snowman, complete with three pyramiding, neatly packed, balls of snow, a black top hat, red scarf, corn cob pipe, perfectly shaped tree branches for arms and clumps of coal that gave him happy, smiling features. Faith looked perfectly comfortable talking to him and would pause momentarily and nod as if listening to what seemed to be a thoughtful response. The picture took the sting of the day away for a moment and Faith’s mother never ceased to be amazed at the wonder her daughter’s imagination could stir. Suddenly the moment was interrupted and serenity was quickly becoming tragedy. Like the snowman, it appeared from nowhere. A large black truck that had lost traction was sliding uncontrollably toward Faith, her new friend and puppy. There was no way Faith would see the impending doom because, as if staged, at the exact same moment the truck appeared, Faiths attention was drawn toward chasing her puppy as he wandered toward the street.

“Dear God!” Faith’s mother screamed as she rushed toward the front door to warn Faith. “Why didn’t she leash that dog!!?? She’ll be killed!!”

She flung open the door only with enough time to bear witness to the calamity that was unfolding right in front of her. Faith was leaning over picking up her puppy and was completely oblivious to the 3,000 pounds of spinning metal that targeted the area where she gathered her dog. Fear and shock paralyzed Faith’s mother as the scene continued to unfold, until from the corner of her eye she caught a vision of hope. Positioned between Faith and her cuddled dog and the oncoming mass was the snowman. It was absolutely miraculous. Without time to consider what possible barricade a snowman could be against a spinning truck; it happened. The truck slammed into the stout figure with enough force to down a telephone pole. Then it came to a sudden and abrupt stop. Snow and ice filled the air, most of which fell on Faith and the puppy that she now clutched in her arms as she knelt speechless in the snow. Faith’s mother ran to her daughter and they met in the center of the front lawn.

“Oh dear God sweetie, are you alright?”

“Sure mommy, I’m fine and so’s Mercy”.

At that moment, the door of the truck flew open and a middle aged man appeared. His face was gray and he was as in much shock as all the others that stood on the cold front yard. He quickly approached the small gathering and in a desperate hopeful voice asked,

“Is anyone hurt?”

“We’re all o.k.” Faith’s mother reassured, “and Thank God for that snowman”, Faith’s mother added as the shock began to wear off.

“Snowman?” asked the driver as he entered the relieved state that was draining the charged energy and emotion from everyone.

“Yes, that…” and as Faith’s mother pointed to where the snowman stood vigilantly, she saw nothing.

The impact of the truck had completely obliterated him.

“Ma’am, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know what stopped me. I didn’t see a thing, just your daughter and her dog. Dear God, I just prayed that I didn’t kill her”.

As Faith’s mother heard his words she assumed that accident occurred too quickly for the man to have seen their white, frosty savior.

“Well it’s freezing out here and everyone’s fine. I’m going to get us back into the house”, Faith’s mother nodded to the man as if a schoolteacher dismissing a student. The man took her lead and walked back to his truck and left.

Faith’s mother cradled Faith in her arms and Faith held Mercy in the same fashion. “Faith, I told you to leash that dog when you take him outdoors”, she said in a firm loving voice.

“I will mommy. I’ll train Mercy to fetch the leash for me.”

“Mercy? When did you decide he would be Mercy?” she quizzed.

“Just now mommy. Frosty said I should call my puppy Mercy. He said that I should take care of Mercy the way he’ll take care of me”.

“He did, did he?”
“Yes, mommy. Frosty said that Mercy would be a good name for a dog that was soooo special. We’ll call him Mercy the Miracle Dog”.

Faith’s mother looked down at the Faith’s angelic face and smile and glanced down at the beagle that rested comfortably in her lap. She praised the one that put that snowman in their front yard and thought, “Miracle dog indeed”. Faith’s wondrous imagination brought a welcome end to the chaos that had just past.

The next several months were difficult for this little family. Money was tight and on more that one occasion Faith’s mother wondered where she would find enough money to put a decent meal together. She often caught Faith secretly feeding Mercy food that she had snuck from her plate in a paper napkin. Faith’s mother pretended not to see her daughter tending to her best friend. Faith loved that dog and spent many hours playing with him, talking with him and loving him. They were inseparable.

Now, they sat, the two of them, staring out at the first snow lightly falling on the front yard.

“Sweetie, you’re going to be late for school, now you get to the table and eat your breakfast, and don’t forget to take Mercy out… and don’t forget his leash.”

“OK, mommy”. Faith trotted toward the kitchen with Mercy in tow.

The telephone rang as Faith and Mercy disappeared into the kitchen.

“Mrs. Engle?” asked the mans voice on the other end of the line.

“Yes” answered Faith’s mother.

“My name is Rogers, David Rogers”.

“Yes Mr. Rogers how can I help you?”

“I’m calling about the resume you submitted”, he answered.

Faith’s mother’s attention was suddenly turned to the sound of the side door in the kitchen slamming followed by the sound of a little girl’s feet, and her puppies, quickly approaching. “Mommy, Mommy, he’s back!!” Faith yelled between breaths.

“Faith, honey, mommy’s on the telephone”.

“I beg your pardon Mrs. Engle”, Mr. Rogers was confused as his dialogue became a three way conversation.

“I’m sorry Mr. Rogers, my daughter is…”

But Faith’s mother’s explanation was interrupted as again Faith pleaded, “Mommy, he’s back!”

Now Faith’s declaration was accompanied by a tug on the sleeve, “Come see, mommy come see!!” Mercy added two quick barks for emphasis.

“Mr. Rogers, I’m so sorry. My daughter is…”

Mr. Rogers interrupted, “Oh don’t worry Mrs. Engle, I have little ones at home that are beside themselves because of this early snow as well. I just wanted to let you know that the job you applied for is yours. I’d love for you to start on Monday. I’ll have someone from personnel call with the particulars.”

“Oh thank you Mr. Rogers. Thank you. You have no idea what this means to me. I can’t thank you enough.” Faith’s mother was almost in tears.

“Somehow I think I do have an idea and you’re welcome. Good day Mrs. Engle”.

Faith’s mother hung up the telephone and a smile grew on her face and a tear ran down her cheek.

“Now, honey, who’s back? What are you so anxious about?”

“Frosty’s back, mommy come look and see. He came back just like he said”. Faith no longer had to coax her mother to the front window; she took the lead of this small parade.

They all stopped at once at the front window. “See mommy, see. He’s right there.”

And there he stood on the same spot he stood last, with his black top hat, red scarf, tree branch limbs, corn cob pipe and charcoal smile. The family of three stood at the window without words. Faith broke the silence,

“He told me he’d come back and he did, mommy.”

“He sure did”, Faith’s mother thought, “and God bless the kind soul that brought us old Frosty”.

Suddenly Faith’s mother heard the lyrics in her head, “I’ll be back again someday”.

“Who was that on the phone, mommy?” Faith asked.

“A job, honey, mommy got a new job”, but her answer couldn’t drown out the lyric that continued to play, “I’ll be back again someday…”