“The strength of a nation derives from the integrity of the home.” – Confucius
JACOB & EZELBY REMEMBER
~1766~
The town seemed to have a special glow tonight. Along the street, the baskets of tall black cressets filled with burning wood made popping noises as Jacob walked past and sent sparks into the twilight night sky while lighting his way. From nearby windows, candle glow reached out and lit his friendly face which just now looked especially content.
For tomorrow was Jacob Waterson’s wedding day, and he could not have been happier. He and his two sons lived here in the small Virginia city of Williamsburg, and he never tired of it. He treasured every brick and stick, from the elegance of the Governor’s palace to the stateliness of the Capitol building, to the small tradesmen’s shops.
He waved at neighbors as they passed but didn’t break his steady stride. He wanted to get home before Ez, his four year old son, fell asleep. His fifteen year old, Jonathan, was staying with a friend after hunting wild turkeys for their grand supper tomorrow. Jacob knew his boys were anxious about their new life, and he wanted to do all he could to make the transition easier for them.
He paused near his gate before going in and took a last look around. Gleaming yellow and orange fall flowers caught the beams of his lantern as did the gold beech leaves under his feet. A happy omen, he thought, then shook his head at his own superstition.
Inside his warm keeping room, he greeted his friend and housekeeper, Hattie, and opened his arms wide as Ezelby jumped into them with delight.
“Father, you’re home! I’ve stayed awake.”
“Yes, so I see,” Jacob said with a smile. “I’m sorry the meeting kept me so long. Are you very sleepy?”
“Not now. Mistress Hattie saved you some supper.” Ez moved a small table near his father’s chair and pulled his own chair nearer. The chilly October evening stayed outdoors as Ez and Jacob chatted easily in front of the fireplace, a favorite space in their home. Ez watched his father from beneath his long lashes while he ate his light meal.
When Jacob saw Ez’s head begin to nod, he stood and lifted the slight boy in his arms. “Bedtime, young man. We have a big day tomorrow,” and was pleased to see the smile on his son’s face. After both had visited the necessary and washed up on the mud porch, Jacob carried Ez up the stairs to his bedroom. Tucking the woolen cover around him, he asked, “What story would you like to hear tonight? Shall we read one from your new schoolbook?”
“Tell me about my mother.” This request had become less frequent in the past year. He’d always liked the stories of their courtship and marriage, of their life together, knowing they helped him learn about a mother he had never known.
“What about her have you not heard?” Jacob asked quietly.
“If you please, any story will do.”
Jacob thought for a moment and then told of an elegant ball he and his wife had attended. It was a story full of joy and liveliness, and it brought smiles to the faces of both father and son.
Brushing his son’s brow with his lips, Jacob watched while Ez’s eyes began to droop and soon closed. He returned to his sitting-room which was lit only by the fire and two candles on a nearby cabinet and poured himself a small glass of peach brandy. As he sipped and felt the smooth warmth slide down his throat, he thought of the changes coming in his life. Memories of his past swept over him like a softly billowing coverlet.
