Thorns of the Roses : A Family's March to Freedom
Sprache: Englisch
Verlag: Authorhouse, 2010
- Softcover
- Gebraucht

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- Titel
- Thorns of the Roses : A Family's March to Freedom
- Autor
- Phillips, Alfred James
- Verlag
- Authorhouse
- Erscheinungsjahr
- 2010
- Zustand
- As New
- Einband
- Softcover
- Sprache
- Englisch
- ISBN-10
- 1449093728
- ISBN-13
- 9781449093723
„Inhaltsangabe“ gehört möglicherweise zu einer anderen Auflage dieses Titels.
Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.
Thorns Of The Roses
A Family's March to FreedomBy Alfred James PhillipsAuthorHouse
Copyright © 2010 Alfred James PhillipsAll right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4490-9372-3
Chapter One
They had waited in the shadows for this moment. The last trace of daylight had retreated, and it was dark. Except for the dim light filtering through the curtain on the second floor, the house had grown dark as well. The two figures moved slowly out from the dense yellow pines and set about their task. White sheets fluttered softly in the cool breeze, hiding their identities. One stood as lookout while the other thrust a shovel into the soft ground, disturbing the lush front lawn and releasing the smell of damp soil. Soon the hole was deep enough to hold the crudely built object that they dragged out from behind the pines. The timber was light and slipped easily into its new resting place. A match was struck. Red and orange flames quickly crawled up and over the kerosene-soaked rags. It was finished. Their deed done, they slunk back into the shadows, moving away from the heat and the flickering glow.Chapter Two
He heard Eunice's footsteps as she walked down the dim corridor to their bedroom. Unable to sleep, John Miller rolled over to face the doorway. She walked softly into the darkened room, sending a warm sensation through his body. With eyes half open, he watched as his wife slowly let her skirt and crinoline fall to the floor. After unbuttoning her blouse, she nimbly bent to the floor and picked up her clothes. She hung them and her lacy top over the bedside chair. He watched her as she gently sat down on the edge of the bed, not wanting to disturb him. She reached behind her back and unhooked the clasp of her bra. With a wiggle of her shoulders, it fell into her lap. John reached out and gently drew his hand across the soft skin of her back.Her body twitched at the tender touch of his fingers. "I'm sorry, honey," she whispered, "I didn't mean to wake you."
"You didn't, sweetheart. Lady's barking woke me."
"It's been a busy day, and I know you're tired," she said, turning toward him and running her slender fingers down his naked arm. "Your momma and I finally got the house back in order."
John felt a warm sensation well up from deep inside as he lay breathing softly, watching Eunice and thinking of all the joy she had brought into his life. These were sweet and pleasant days. Life was better than in those early years. While still in high school, he had worked part-time in the coal mines of West Virginia, those same damp and dirty mines that had turned his father's lungs black and shortened his life. John still didn't like to think about those days. It had been too late for his father, but it wasn't going to be too late for him. It had been difficult for John to leave his family and friends, but he knew what could happen if he stayed. He might end up like his father, spending his last days gasping for air. Following his father's admonition to 'quit the mines,' John packed his bags and moved to Burlington, North Carolina, to live with his Aunt Clara and Uncle Henry. Uncle Henry worked for the East Coast and Southern Railroad for many years and was able to get John hired on with one of the railroad's track maintenance crews. John moved to Unionville, which was closer to his work, and it was there that he met Eunice.
It had been a sunny Sunday afternoon at a church picnic. He had seen her before from a distance, during services, but he had never seen her up close, and never like she looked that day.
He heard laughter coming from a small group of children gathered together, sitting on the grass under a large oak tree. Standing before them was a young lady, reading to them as if they were all her own. Her eyes darting back and forth over the crowd of children, she read to them with the gentleness of an angel. It was when she turned and smiled at John that he knew she was the woman he would share the rest of his life with. He stood there, transfixed, enjoying the peacefulness of the moment. Occasionally, their eyes met and she would smile, flooding him with feelings he had never experienced.
When she finished her reading, she gathered the children together. With the little ones tugging at her skirt, they slowly made their way back to the tables where the parents were assembled. As she passed John, she offered a sweet "hello." He was seldom at a loss for words, but he had been in that moment.
John could hardly wait until the following Sunday. All week he had practiced how and what he would say to that pretty lady who had stolen his heart. That morning finally arrived. It was a beautiful autumn day with an early morning frost which made the countryside glisten. A perfect day, John thought as he waited outside the church. And then she appeared. His heart almost stopped as he watched her-an angel he was sure-slowly descend the steep and worn wooden steps.
"Good morning Miss Eunice. Isn't this a pretty Sunday?" he offered, his voice trembling. Immediately he felt the blood rush to his face as he searched her brown eyes for any reaction to his greeting. And then, as a smile slowly eased across her freshly scrubbed face, she offered a response.
"And a good Sunday morning to you too, sir," she replied. "Yes, it is a pretty day." It didn't matter how he had presented himself, she was delighted that he had spoken to her.
Neither of them remembered much about that first conversation. All they knew was they both felt that strange sensation new lovers feel. And after a few moments, it was as if they had known one another for years.
And now they had. Years had passed since their courtship first started. Even now, after fourteen years of marriage, their romance was still fresh.
Like John, Eunice was an only child. But unlike John, she was patient, shy and unassuming. Her parents had separated when she was eight years old and she had been sent to live with her paternal grandmother who resided in Butler, a small community just east of Unionville. Her father died shortly after the divorce, which she suspected was from a broken heart. Eunice soon lost track of her mother, and she had not heard from her since. After graduating from high school, Eunice continued to live with and take care of her grandmother. When her grandmother died, Eunice left Butler and moved to a small apartment in Unionville, taking a sales clerk job at the local Ben Franklin Five and Dime Store.
Eunice was blessed with gentleness and great patience. John was truly thankful for that, as on occasion he would surely test her spirit.
"Thanks for taking all the tables and chairs back to the church," Eunice said, interrupting John's reminiscing.
"Luther helped me, so it didn't take very long."
"Wasn't it a grand party?" she sighed. "I'm so glad your boss was able to come again this year. Mr. McCormick's been to my birthday celebration every year but one since we adopted Tommy John." Eunice paused, smiling, as she slipped her cotton nightgown over her head. "And didn't it look like he and our son were having a grand visit?"
John nodded, smiling as he watched the lady he loved.
She sat there for a moment, enjoying her own memories. "I think he truly cares for the boy, don't you? And the roses." Eunice smiled as she turned to face John. "He never forgets, does he? He always brings me two dozen roses."
"What's got into Lady tonight?" John interrupted. "She's barkin' again." He sat up and slid his feet into his slippers. "Maybe our possum friend is back. I...
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