Virtues of the Heart
Chapter One
She saw it before she heard it. Out of her second-floor bedroom window, looking up the old dirt road through the wooded fields, a speck at first but growing larger as the one-horse carriage made its way toward the Gearhart farm.
She smiled, perhaps a little wasted, as if her beautiful smile could appear without captivating anyone to appreciate its tenderness and kindness. The carriage suddenly disappeared as the road twisted and dipped from view, which sent the young woman bolting toward the backroom steps.
​ Mary Jane "Jennie" Gearhart, all of 21 years and as sweet as the apple dumplings in her Mama's wood-fire oven, ran heedlessly down the steps and out the door, holding up the bottom hem of her cotton dress, enabling her feet to move fluidly like the well-oiled pulsator in her father's milker.
​ "Girl," her Mama yelled from the kitchen, "where are you going? Where are your shoes?"
​ Running as fast as she could, she ran down the grass bank and headed for the old road that led to the visitor, Elder Samuel Hepner. While the horse and carriage clopped slowly toward the farm, Jenny — feeling the stones and pebbles cutting her feet — shifted to the roadside, cutting a path through the coltsfoots and dandelions that sprouted to soak in the moisture from the early morning rain before the sun dried it out.
​ "Whoa, hey, ho, ease up there, whoa," Hepner barked to the Morgan mare as he pulled gently on the reins. "Whoa."
​ "Elder Samuel, Elder Samuel," she shouted, slowing her pace and shifting back to the middle of the road.
"Easy, girl, easy now," Hepner called to the mare, pulling the horse's head gently to the right. "What's got into you, Jenny Gearhart? Nearly spooked Jessy."
​ Gasping for breath, she stopped just right of the mare. "You said," as she sucked in air, "you were checking on the job with the sleepers. I was. I was thinking you had some important information for me."
​ "Well now, girl," Hepner replied, "you better check with your Paw; he's not liking you going to the lunatic farm."
"It's not his decision, Elder. I'm a grown woman. I'm 21."
​ "Ah, my dear," Hepner replied, "Our Lord doesn't say honor your mother and father until you're 21, does he, now? There's no age limit on God's laws, my child."
​ "That's true, but He also tells the young to serve the needy," she replied quickly, her chest still heaving from her shoeless skedaddle out the kitchen door. "He tells us it is more blessed to give than to receive. In Matthew, he says,
'Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.'
​ "Ah, that he does, girl," Hepner chuckled, "that He does. So, you believe He is speaking directly to you, is He?"
"Yes, Elder, I do."
​ "So, what does your Mama say about all of this?"
​ "She says follow your heart, your dreams. She attended the West Chester school despite everybody saying it was foolish. But she followed her heart, and now she teaches the young how to read and write. I want to help people who are ill at the State Asylum, Elder. I believe it's my calling, what I was meant to do."
"All right, girl," Hepner chuckled, "I should know better than to argue with you. Jump in the back there, and we'll see what your folks say to this. 'He-ahh, now,'" Hepner called out as he snapped the reins, "get up there. Go on, get up there."
​ Jennie's feet dangled as the carriage slowly finished its journey up the old road toward the farm. She watched a doe and two fawns play gracefully in the upper field as if the doe were teaching the fawns to hop over snakes that crawled out from under rocks to bask in the afternoon sun. Her heart was filled with the hope and joy of experiencing a new world that lay just beyond Fairview Road, which bordered the farm south of Lost Creek and north along Shade Road into McAllisterville.
​
. . .
"This is," Father Charles O'Hara said, as he thumped his knuckles twice on the wooden lectern, "the Gospel of the Lord."
​ To which the congregation responded, "Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ."
Father O'Hara, the Pastor at St. James Church in Charlestown, County Mayo, Ireland, for 17 years, waited until the congregation was seated before starting his homily. St. James was the largest Catholic Church in Mayo County. Still, Father O'Hara had been losing parishioners — faithful men and women who were leaving Ireland for a new life in America.
​ Eight men and six women, along with their families, sat in his church, prepared to board a steamship to New York Harbor within a week. Father O'Hare paused and looked out over the people. Finally, he said, "My sons and daughters of Ireland. My heart is heavy on this day of our Lord, but it is also filled with inspiration and joy. Some of you who sit before me, before God, are ready to embark on a lifetime journey to a destination many Irish have done before you. And many will do after you. It is a journey inspired by God, who will accompany you in your heart and soul. Every person you meet and every experience you undertake will be an exciting adventure. But on this day in 1908, I want to challenge you, all fourteen of you, to take up the cross and remember this message when you step on that ship and sail across the great sea.
​ "There will be many jobs waiting for you in America, jobs that will test your strength and endurance. Jobs that will teach you a skilled occupation, jobs where you may end up in a factory, out driving spikes on a new rail line, or serving food in a dining room or pub. But I challenge you to consider this: to search out jobs that Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ would favor. Jobs that will care for the sick and needy, for the impoverished, for those down and out.
"And remember, you not only represent the spirit of Ireland as you travel across the great sea toward a new life, but you also represent your families, and most of all, you represent the Lord, Jesus Christ. Carry His light with you in everything you do. If your choice is to drive spikes or care for the injured, do what your heart says and do it well.
"Remember always the three virtues of the heart: Faith, Hope, and Charity. Carry them with you. Live by them, and express your love through them. For it is these virtues that define who you are in God's light. They will speak to you in ways you never imagined. I have prepared a holy card for each of you to take on your journey. The card will remind you of the virtues of the heart. Keep it close to your breast and let it be your salvation in difficult times.
"I will ask Sister Margo to help me present the cards in the sanctuary, and I will bless each one of you. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost."
​ Outside the church, which sat on a bluff in a clearing surrounded by potato farms along Chapel Road running toward the sea out of Charlestown. By 1908, Ireland had been fifty years past the devastating potato disease caused by Phytophthora infestans but was still twenty years away from access to resistant seeds. Potatoes remained the primary food source of the Irish, but many farms were shifting toward dairy farming. Many sections of Ireland, such as County Mayo, still poor and losing its youth and labor force to emigration, began to diversify its agricultural production. With the planting of various vegetables and the availability of milk and beef, Ireland left the famine behind. To most Irish youth, the famine was learned through stories around the hearth, perhaps from storytellers or from parents and grandparents who had survived it.
​ Outside the church, Father O'Hara greeted each parishioner, especially those ready to embark on their journey.
"Ah," Father said, "the Costello's. How are you, Thomas? Mary? And how about this young man," Father said as he placed his hand on Thomas Francis Costello's shoulder. 'He is the pride of the Irish, wouldn't you say?"
"I heard your sermon, Father," Thomas Francis Costello said, sandwiched between his mother and father. "I will try to follow the beliefs that I've learned here from you."
​ "Francis, in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost." Father O'Hara said, making the sign of the cross over Costello's forehead, "Go forth, my son, and follow the virtues of the heart."
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