Secrets of the Heart (6 page)

She took one last look in the mirror, decided she had done what she could to tame her wild hair, then patted down her skirt and went downstairs to help her mother prepare breakfast.

Turlough and Evelyn Killanin waited in the family buggy while Hennie dashed to the front door of the O’Malley house and knocked. Moments later, Kathleen and Hennie were sitting in the backseat as the buggy headed toward downtown Chicago.

Butterflies flitted in Kathleen’s stomach when she entered the church and walked down the aisle. This was so different from her
church. People were actually talking and smiling as they greeted each other. They seemed so happy…like Hennie.

Pastor J. C. Henson taught the auditorium class, and Kathleen enjoyed listening to him because he had a wonderful sense of humor and made her laugh, though most of the lesson on walking with Jesus in the Christian life went over her head.

In the morning preaching service, Ira Sankey led the congregational singing and sang three solos. Before the final solo, Pastor Henson introduced evangelist Dwight L. Moody, who would come to the pulpit and preach immediately after the solo.

Sankey was accompanied by piano and pump organ as he sang the great hymn “O Sacred Head, Now Wounded.”

Kathleen noted that people around her were wiping away tears. The last two verses gripped Kathleen as the words came from Sankey’s deep baritone voice:

Sankey, himself, was weeping as he finished the song and sat down on the platform beside the pastor.

When the stout-bodied D. L. Moody stepped to the pulpit, he opened his Bible and preached from Matthew 27:29–31:

“And when they had platted a crown of thorns, they put it upon his head, and a reed in his right hand: and they bowed the knee before him, and mocked him, saying, Hail, King of the Jews! And they spit upon him, and took the reed and smote him on the head. And after that they had mocked him, they took the robe off from him, and put his own raiment on him, and led him away to crucify him.”

Moody’s sermon took his hearers from the moment when the crown of thorns was put on the Lord’s head until He was nailed to the cross and died for sinners. Moody spoke of the fire that had hit Chicago’s west side the night before, using it as an illustration of the reality of a burning hell for those in the audience who were unsaved. But Jesus had come from heaven to earth for the express purpose of making the way for sinners to be saved and forgiven, and to miss hell. Moody wept as he elaborated on the Saviour’s suffering to keep sinners from hell. He closed the sermon with an invitation for the lost to come for salvation.

A large number of people responded as the gathering rose to their feet, and Ira Sankey sang an invitation song.

Hennie watched Kathleen from the corner of her eye and noticed that her friend kept her eyes downcast. Hennie felt a constraint to say
anything more to her right now, It was up to the Holy Spirit to do His work in Kathleen’s heart.

K
ATHLEEN
O’M
ALLEY WAS UNUSUALLY QUIET
as she climbed into the Killanin buggy beside Hennie.

As Turlough Killanin guided the team out of the church parking lot, he said over his shoulder, “So what did you think of the services, Kathleen?”

Evelyn adjusted herself on the front seat so she could easily turn and look at the girl.

“Your services are quite different than those at our church, Mr. Killanin. I…I have never heard preaching like Mr. Moody’s.”

“How is it different from the preaching in your own church, dear?” Evelyn asked.

Kathleen blinked rapidly and smoothed the skirt of her dress. “We are never warned of ending up in a burning hell if we don’t repent and receive Jesus Christ into our hearts. We are simply told that if we follow our religion and do the best we can, we will go to heaven when we die. But Mr. Moody’s sermon was different. He seemed to have it in for religion.”

“Well,” Turlough said, “the devil has come up with religion as a substitute for salvation. With religion, the emphasis is on what people can do to get themselves into heaven with the help of religious leaders and by following certain ordinances and the like. The true salvation God has provided is in the Lord Jesus Christ, Himself, and His finished work at Calvary. You heard Mr. Moody point out from Scripture that we are all guilty sinners in need of forgiveness, and in need of salvation. We cannot do something to save ourselves, and there is nothing some religious leader can do to help save us. Jesus
does all the saving when we’re willing to repent of our sin and put our faith in Him and Him alone to save us.”

Kathleen nodded, but a small frown wrinkled her brow.

“You see, dear,” put in Evelyn, “if religious leaders had some power to remove our sins, and we could please God by our own so-called good deeds, Jesus would not have gone to the cross. He wouldn’t have suffered as He did, nor shed His blood.”

Kathleen nodded again, and the words from Ira Sankey’s last solo and what Dwight Moody had preached repeated over and over in her mind.

“Do you understand, Kathleen?” Evelyn said.

Kathleen thought on her reply for a few seconds, then said, “I need to think about it, Mrs. Killanin. It’s…it’s just so different than what I’m used to.”

Hennie took Kathleen’s hand. “Will you still come home with us, spend the afternoon, and go to church with us tonight?”

Kathleen nodded in jerky little movements and said, “Yes, Hennie, I will.”

As the buggy moved through Chicago’s residential areas toward the west side, Kathleen O’Malley’s insides churned. She struggled to suppress her fear of another hellfire and brimstone sermon that evening.

At the O’Leary home, Katie fed her family an early lunch so Patrick could make it to the firehouse by noon.

When the meal was over, Patrick hugged his children, then took Katie in his arms. “Sorry to leave the milking to you four times in a row, honey.”

“That’s all right,” she said, rising up on tiptoe to kiss him. “You needed your sleep when you got home this morning. I’m glad to do my part.”

Patrick hugged her tight, then said, “I appreciate your attitude, sweetheart. Dinah’s looking better, and I hate to ask you to do it, but
its best that she be given salt for another three or four days for good measure. I’ll be home to do some of the salt-giving, at least.”

“Darling, it’s not a problem. Now, you go on and do
your
duty for the Chicago Fire Department.”

As Patrick O’Leary walked down the street, he looked toward the sky.
Not a cloud in sight.
He shook his head in despair, thinking of the worsening fire hazard in the city as each rainless day came and went. Last night was bad enough. He hated to think of a fire more widespread and destructive than that one.

When evening came, Katie O’Leary milked the cows and, as usual, threw Dinah’s milk away, though she hated the loss of funds it represented.

After feeding Ryan and Amy a nourishing supper, Katie did the dishes with their help, then heated water for their baths. Amy bathed first, while Ryan straightened up his room. Little sister’s hair was still damp, and her face glowing from a good scrub, when Katie put her in a fresh, clean flannel nightgown.

When Ryan’s bath was over and he was in his nightshirt, Katie said, “Let’s get out your paper and pencils, and you two can sit here at the table and draw pictures while I go give Dinah her last salt chips for the day.”

She lit the old lantern by the back door and carried it to the barn.

The ailing cow was kept in a special stall. When Katie opened the gate and moved inside, she said, “Okay, sweet bovine, it’s time for your medicine.”

As she spoke, she reached for the cloth sack hanging on a nail and remembered that it was nearly empty. She had meant to fill it up earlier in the day.

“Sorry, honey,” Katie said to Dinah, “I have to go back to the house and get some more salt.”

She set the lantern in a corner on fresh straw she’d placed there that morning. “Be right back, Dinah.”

The cow chewed her cud placidly as she gave Katie a slight glance and swished her tail.

Katie walked slowly through the darkness toward the glowing windows of the house. As she stepped up on the porch, she heard her children laughing and shouting at each other. What greeted her when she entered the kitchen immediately ignited her anger.

Ryan and Amy had the flour bin open and were throwing hand-fills of it at each other.

“Ryan! Amy! Stop it!”

At the sound of their mother’s voice, the children’s laughter stopped abruptly, and they stared at her wide-eyed.

“Look at this!” Katie said, tossing the salt sack on the table and stomping to where the sobered children stood. “You’ve got flour all over yourselves and all over the floor!”

“Ryan started it,” Amy said. “I was drawing a picture at the table, and he snuck up and dropped flour on my head.”

“I was only playing a little trick on her, Mama. I didn’t mean—”

“You both know better than to act like this,” Katie said.

Both children were spanked, cleaned up, and sent to their room.

“I’ll come up to check on you in a few minutes,” Katie said, then began mopping the floor. Next she took the sack of salt from the pantry and poured about half of it into the smaller sack. She left the sack on the small table beside the back door and mounted the stairs. As she walked down the hall, she could hear the wind beating against the sides of the house. There had been only a breeze when she’d come to the house for salt.

The lantern in the children’s room was turned down to a low flame, and both Ryan and Amy were in their beds, sniffling quietly.

“Well, how about it?” Katie said, standing between the two beds. “Did you two do wrong?”

“I’m sorry, Mama,” Ryan said. “I shouldn’t have put the flour on Amy’s head. And I shouldn’t have gotten it all over the kitchen. Please forgive me.”

Katie nodded, then set her piercing gaze on the five-year-old.

Amy sniffled and said, “I’m sorry, too, Mama. I was bad. Please forgive me.”

Katie immediately told them they were forgiven, and tucked them in with hugs and kisses. While the wind slapped at the bed-room window, she talked about avoiding spankings by thinking about the things they were tempted to do before they actually did them. When they knew that what they were tempted to do was wrong, they should make the proper decision and not do it.

Soon their bright eyes were drooping, heavy with sleep. Katie kissed them again and settled the colorful quilts up close under their chins.

Ryan and Amy were asleep almost instantly. Katie looked down at their sweet faces, so innocent in slumber. She blew out the lantern, then paused at the door to look back at them. She moved her lips silently, saying, I
love you
, then released a small satisfied sigh and headed down the hall.

As Katie descended the stairs, she noticed an orange glow through the windows on both sides of the house. When she reached the first floor, she pulled the curtains back and saw that the back side of the O’Malleys’ house was aglow, as were both yards.

She dashed through the kitchen and out onto the back porch, sucking in a sharp breath as she saw that her barn was engulfed in a massive ball of wind-fanned flames.

A scream wrenched itself from her lips, and she turned toward the O’Malley house. There were no lights in the windows.

Katie screamed as she ran toward the neighbors house on the other side. The back door opened, and Brian Joyce stepped out, his eyes fixed on the blazing barn.

“Help me, Brian!” Katie cried. “My house will catch fire if we don’t soak it down!”

Brian Joyce turned to his teenage son, who was on the porch with Mrs. Joyce. “Jonathan! Run and get the other neighbors! Quick!”

The wind caught sparks from burning hay and timber, hurling them in three directions.

In no more than a minute, neighbors were swarming all over the yard, many with buckets. There were shouts and cries as they began dipping water from neighbor’s stock tanks and throwing it on the back of the O’Leary house.

Some began dousing the Joyces’ house and the O’Malleys’.

Ryan and Amy had been awakened by the commotion and stood at their upstairs window, trying to see what was on fire.

Amy began to cry.

In the Courthouse Tower downtown, Nate Canton had spotted the flames on the west side and was alerting Company Six with his telegraph key.