D.S.Hale

Hannah    The Purity Pledge Series

 

 

.

 

“Let’s do it,” Bethany whispered. She leaned toward Hannah, as a grin wobbled into place.

Hannah nodded her agreement. She wondered if she looked as nervous as Bethany. What they were about to do was something she had considered on her own for months, and was glad her three friends agreed to join her.

“Are you in, Melody?” Hannah asked, looking back at Melody’s heart shaped face. Her green eyes glimmered like two emeralds.

Melody nodded after a moment of hesitation, her blond hair bouncing on her shoulders.

“What are you girls whispering about?” Ms. Rogers twittered in her high sparrow-like voice. She rapped the chalk on the board to emphasize her words. We nicknamed her The Sparrow Lady outside of Sunday school.

“We want to make a promise to the church,” Sarah piped up.

“Oh?’ Ms. Roger’s voice rose in pitch. Her eyebrows arched like two triangles.

Hannah stood up. “We want to sign the Vow of Purity. We want to publicly commit to keeping ourselves virtuous until marriage.”

Actually voicing what she had been thinking for months encouraged Hannah. She was already keeping the purity pledge on her own, so she wondered why she shouldn’t make a public announcement, and get the backing of the church? When she told her friends what she was thinking about doing, her faith and confidence inspired them to join her.

“This is a great day!” Ms. Rogers announced. “These girls are winning back the ground the devil stole these last few generations! Is there anyone else in the class who would like to join them in their honorable march to the future?”

The other nine members in the Sunday school classroom sat like rocks, staring at the floor, mouths pinched shut. A pin dropped could’ve pricked the silence.

“Very well then, Girls,” Ms. Rogers said as she turned her attention back to them. “Next week, I’ll provide the pledge and a little promissory ring for you to wear. Then, on your wedding night, your husband will have the honor of removing it.”

The room broke out in giggles and snorts. Ms. Rogers frowned at the class, but continued. “When I was a little girl, there was no such need as a promise ring, or pledges. It was a given that a girl waited until her wedding night. I’m proud that the four of you are making this stance.”

A week later, Hannah sat straight and tall next to her mother in the front pew. Sarah, Bethany, and Melody sat behind her with their families. Hannah reread the certificate in her lap. It began with Songs of Solomon.

 

 

 

I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is mine.

I promise to God, my future mate, and to myself, to keep my mind and body morally clean and pure so that when I enter the marriage covenant I will be able to give myself with a completely clean conscience to my mate. 

 

The certificate was dated June 17th and signed by her and Ms. Rogers, and her father, Reverend Waverly. 

Hannah gently twisted the little silver band around her wedding ring finger. She half listened to her father preaching the sermon, otherwise lost to the world and daydreaming about the man who would someday remove that ring from her finger

 

 

“Reverend Wright’s crew will be arriving shortly, Hannah. I want you to hang around church while they set up the tent. If they need anything come back to the house and let me know.”

          “Okay, Daddy,” Hannah said with a sigh in her voice. There goes my day. Hannah wanted to pour over the antique cookbooks Ms. Rogers gave her last night after Wednesday services. Hannah loved trying out old, forgotten recipes. She hoped to find something exciting to add to her own file that she would use in her gourmet restaurant. Lord willing.

          Hannah tied back her long chestnut hair with a favorite blue ribbon. She tousled her bangs until the reflection in her bedroom mirror agreed with her. It had taken a lot of wheedling and begging to get her parents to allow her to cut her hair into bangs. In their church, it was their belief that a woman must never cut her hair. But when Hannah pointed out the women of their congregation, and women visiting from other congregations cut their hair, and that God hadn’t struck them with lightening, her parents finally relented.

Hannah let the wooden screen door slam behind her as she headed cheerfully down the worn path that wound through a patch of maple trees that separated the parsonage from the churchyard. It was still early and the grass was damp with dew. Before she was half way to the church, her shoes were squishing with every step. She hated having wet feet more than anything. She would have to pull off her socks and let her feet dry when she got to the church.

Already the sky was a slate blue without a cloud to be seen. It was going to be another scorcher.

Hannah reached the clearing where the church stood, and saw the work crew had already arrived. Good! Perhaps her day wouldn’t be a total loss. How long could it possibly take to put up a tent? She might even have enough time to pick a mess of blackberries to bake a pie for supper.

Six men were stretching the huge revival tent across the side lawn. A tall blond man caught her attention as he dashed between the others, encouraging and checking their work at every step. He couldn’t have been more than twenty-one. His sandy blond hair was cut short and a day’s worth of stubble shadowed his jaws. His eyes were as blue as the summer sky. Enthralled by his demeanor, Hannah couldn’t take her eyes off him.

She watched him from over her shoulder as she made her way to the church steps and sat on the top one. She pressed her long skirt smooth over her knees and down her legs. She kicked off her wet sneakers and peeled off her soaked socks and laid them on the concrete to dry.

She locked her fingers above her ankles, and with eyes wide, she watched him work. He was professional and had obviously done this more than a few times. She studied each of them, but her eyes kept going back to the foreman with the five o’clock shadow. He wore a short-sleeved plaid shirt, jeans, and tan work boots. His muscles rippled as he helped lift poles, and then tightened the knots that held the tent in place.

“What are you doing?”

The familiar voice startled Hannah. She jerked around and smiled sheepishly at Sarah. She hadn’t heard her approach. Sarah must’ve parked her old junker in their driveway and walked over.

“Oh, hey!” Hannah scooted over and gave her room so she could sit beside her on the step. “Daddy told me to hang around until the crew finished putting up the tent, in case they need something.” She sounded guilty like she had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

Sarah pressed her skirt down and wrapped her arms around her knees. She turned and scrutinized the work crew. “He’s cute,” she said with a mischievous smile.

“Which one?” Hannah asked. She felt the blood rush to her face.

“That one.” Sarah pointed directly at the man  Hannah had been watching.

Hannah swallowed hard and shrugged offhandedly. “I suppose.”

Sarah laughed. “You have a crush on him,” she teased. “I can tell.”

Hannah shrugged again, pointedly keeping her eyes off the man they were referencing.

“You’re in love,” Sarah taunted in good fun.

 

“Hannah and Cutie-pie sitting in a tree.

                 K-I-S-S-I-N-G

First comes love, then comes marriage

Then comes Hannah with a baby carriage!”

 

“Stop it, Sarah!” Hannah hissed, elbowing her. She was mortified by her childish joke. “He’s gonna hear you!” She quickly glanced at the men, but they were engaged in tying down a pole that wasn’t cooperating. They apparently hadn’t heard them.

Laughing loudly, Sarah stood up. “I can’t stay. I just came over to see if you wanted to go swimming with Bethany, Melody, and me in the Carrollton pool, but I guess you can’t.” Sarah meaningfully twisted the ring on her wedding finger. “Remember, no immoral thoughts,” she teased, and playfully gave her a noogie, “I’ll see you tonight at the revival!” She dashed off behind the church toward her parked car.

Hannah breathed a sigh of relief. She felt for the ring on her left hand and worked it up and down her finger as she looked back at the crew. At the same time, the leader turned toward her, and for a riveting, heart lurching moment, their eyes locked. Even across the distance of the yard, his smoldering eyes twinkled playfully.

            The world stopped and Hannah caught her breath. Something flickered in his expression that she couldn’t decipher, then it was gone. He winked and flashed a toothy grin before turning back to the task at hand.

          Hannah forgot everything around her. If someone asked her name, she probably would’ve stumbled over the answer. She forgot about her recipe books waiting at home, and the blackberries in the field behind the house that needed picking. She forgot about her wet sneakers and wet feet. For the rest of the day, all that she was aware of, was the capable, strong man that kept glancing her way, smiling at her, until blushing, she had to look away.

Was he flirting with her? Her daddy would be displeased if he caught her flirting back. Was that what she was doing---encouraging his winks? No one had smiled at her like that before, or made her heart sing. It was a new, strange, and exciting feeling.

Hannah hadn’t been allowed to date in school, though she had crushes on various boys. Those attachments were nothing compared to this intoxicating emotion rippling through her veins. What did it mean?

Hannah glanced back at him again, hoping to catch him looking at her. It had been several hours since the men had started, and the tent was nearly erected. The crew leader stood next to a man driving a stake in the ground, hands on his hips, patiently watching her, as though waiting on her to look at him. Her heart leapt as though shocked with electricity.

          He motioned for her to come to him.