An old red truck with the words “Jay’s Home Moving & Demolition” painted on the door pulled up in front of an old house. Jay and his wife Sandy sat in the truck, looking at the house they had purchased.

Over the last two years, Jay had made a pretty good living buying houses at auction, then moving or demolishing them, and selling the land. Sandy had never gone with him to work before. Her usual job was to take care of the paperwork and line up buyers for the bricks and lumber once the house was taken apart. She also sold to others who wanted houses moved to their properties to fix up as rentals. This was the first time she chose to see a house before it was demolished.

Jay smiled encouragingly at her. “Just record the size, number, and condition of all the interior and exterior doors. Measure the windows, too. The wood is probably rotted, but we can sell the glass.”

They got out of the truck and stepped into the house. “These old houses usually have some nice wood trimming, and it looks like the old lady took good care of this place. If you see anything that you like, let me know before I demolish it.”

“What old lady?” Sandy asked.

“Oh, that’s right, you didn’t know who used to live here. This house belonged to the town’s oldest resident, Miss Ida Mae Washington.”

“I read about that in the paper. They said she was 110 when she died. She left everything to the city to be used to repair and maintain the old cemetery at the edge of town. The paper said she never married or had children.”

Jay went on, “I got this place at a good price. The lot’s worth twice what I paid. Must have been nice in its day. It’s bigger than it looks from the road. You can see where it’s been added onto. I wonder why they did that. Ida Mae was an only child and never married, never had kids. Well, whoever did it sure did a good job. It’s a shame to tear it down.”

Jay bent to give Sandy a kiss. He hugged her, and she squeezed him back like a big teddy bear.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Jay asked.

Sandy teared up as she looked into his eyes. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“I know the miscarriage still weighs on your heart. It does on mine, too.”

She nodded and put her head on his shoulder. “It helps to stay busy. Takes my mind off it for a while.”

She opened the front door with a tape measure in hand. She was surprised at what she saw. The 150-year-old house was beautiful, with built-in bookcases and China cabinets. As she began to explore, she discovered kitchen cabinets flush with the wall, and bedrooms with large closets and built-in drawers—unusual for such an old house. She could tell the original house consisted of what was now just the living room, kitchen, and dining room. What really intrigued her was the kitchen cabinets in the wall between the kitchen and the laundry room were two feet thick. The laundry room side of the wall had the same siding as the outside of the house, which suggested the laundry room was added later and the cabinets weren’t built into the wall, but instead, the kitchen wall was brought out to look as if the cabinets had been built into the wall.

“Why would they do that?” Sandy thought. “Talk to me,” she muttered under her breath as she ran her hand slowly over the siding in the laundry room. Inspecting the section closest to the kitchen door, she felt something prick her finger. She pulled her hand back to check for blood. When she found none, she searched the area to see what pricked her. She was about to give up when she noticed a small bent nail. It reminded her of the bent nail Jay used to hold the door to the tool shed closed. However, this one was embedded in the wood. She pushed on the siding, and it gave just a little, but not enough for her to turn the nail. She leaned on the siding with her shoulder and heard a scraping sound.

“What in the world was that?” She quickly stepped back.

“Okay, I’m going to open this panel, and if you’re a dead body, don’t fall on me, and if you’re something alive, don’t jump on me, okay?”

She pushed with all her strength, turned the nail, then leaped backward, turning her back in mortal fear as the panel flew open. There was a loud crash, then silence. She slowly turned to find a ladder lying on the floor.

“I knew it was only a ladder,” she said with a deep sigh of relief.

Cautiously, she stepped over the ladder to peek into the wall. “Well, you found the opening to the attic, Sandy. Good girl. Jay won’t be back for a while, so let’s explore.” She set up the ladder and started up through the hole in the ceiling behind the wall.

At its highest point, the roof was roughly six feet high and ran the length of the house. Sandy expected the attic to be empty, but in a corner toward the front of the house, she saw white sheets covering something. Removing the sheets, she found an old camelback trunk, a rocking chair, and a baby cradle. She opened the trunk and was surprised to find baby clothes. They were elegantly beautiful, with exquisite needlework. The cradle and rocker appeared to be handmade and were delicately hand carved. Sandy touched the cradle, and it began to swing from side to side. Inside the cradle, Sandy noticed an envelope. Sitting in the rocker, Sandy stared at the cradle and felt her eyes fill with tears for her lost child. “Now you don’t want Jay to come back to find you crying,” Sandy told herself, wiping tears from her cheek.

“What we have here is a mystery, and you love a mystery. Clue number one: baby clothes. Why would Miss Washington have baby clothes? Clue number two: cradle and rocker. Who could have made them and why are they here? Clue number three: this envelope, or is the envelope the answer to clues one and two?” Not waiting for an answer, she opened the envelope and began to read the letter inside.

“I don’t know who you are or why I’m writing this, but my friend Sarah said I needed to, for your sake as well as my own. I know I don’t have much time left here on earth, but I’m not afraid. Sarah is here, and soon I’ll be in a much better place.

“Now you don’t want Jay to come back to find you crying,” Sandy told herself, wiping tears from her cheek.

“What we have here is a mystery, and you love a mystery. Clue number one: baby clothes. Why would Miss Washington have baby clothes? Clue number two: cradle and rocker. Who could have made them and why are they here? Clue number three: this envelope, or is the envelope the answer to clues one and two?” Not waiting for an answer, she opened the envelope and began to read the letter inside.

“I don’t know who you are or why I’m writing this, but my friend Sarah said I needed to, for your sake as well as my own. I know I don’t have much time left here on earth, but I’m not afraid. Sarah is here, and soon I’ll be in a much better place.

“I was born in this house, back when it was much smaller. I always loved this house. I hope some nice young couple buys it and fills it up with children. I was very happy but lonely as an only child. I was glad once I became old enough to go to school.

“One winter day, we got a lot more snow than usual, so I took a shortcut to school through the woods and the old cemetery. That was the day I met Sarah. She appeared to be younger than me. She was standing in front of an old gravestone without a coat. I asked where her coat was, and she said she didn’t have one. So, I gave her mine. She thanked me and said she would be my friend forever. Giving her my coat was no big deal because it was almost too small for me, and my mother was making me a new one, anyway. After school, I told my mother about Sarah and my mother said she was glad I gave her the coat, then she sat up all night to finish my new one.

“Sarah and I played in the cemetery every day after school and all day on weekends. One day, it started to get dark, and I could see Sarah was getting scared. I turned my head for a moment, and when I looked back, Sarah was gone. I looked at the gravestone beside me and written on it was one word—Sarah! I ran all the way home and told my mother what had happened, and she told me never to go to the cemetery again without her. It was a long time before I saw Sarah again.

“One day, when I was about fifteen, a man named Jesse came to the house looking for work. My father had begun building onto the house, but his health was getting poor, so he hired the man and paid him to finish the job. Jesse was gentle and funny, and it wasn’t long until I fell in love with him.

“My father passed away a few months later and my mother followed just days after, I believe from grief. The day I buried my parents, I saw Sarah again. She was waiting for me on the doorstep when I returned home. She told me “Don’t worry about your parents, they are happy and together with God.” Then she was gone.

“Jesse finished adding onto the house and we married privately. Soon the snow came. It came and came until we were unable to leave the house. We had food and firewood, but we knew they wouldn’t last long.

“One day, Jesse went out to chop wood, and I checked the supply of food Mother and I had canned before she died. I knew we had canned a lot more than what I saw, but I couldn’t think of where Mother would have put them. Sarah appeared in the washroom and said, “Your mother put some food in the attic.”

“Jesse chopped enough wood to last a month, but when he came in, his feet and hands were frostbitten so badly, he wailed when I rubbed them to get the blood to circulate. In the following days, Jesse got sick, and I discovered I was pregnant. We used the wood and food sparingly. I wanted to use the leftover lumber in the fireplace, but Jesse said he needed it for something. I didn’t know why because he had already made a rocker and cradle while I made baby clothes.

“One morning, while Jesse worked in the back bedroom, the most frightful pain in the world hit me and I screamed. Jesse came running. I was so scared because the baby wasn’t due for two more months. In the early morning of the next day, Jesse delivered our lifeless little girl. After Jesse and I held our child and cried until we could cry no more, he took the baby away. That night, while Jesse held me in his arms, he left this world.

“If I had lost only one, I could have held on to the other for comfort, but I lost both. I felt as if the spark of life within me had been stomped out like you would a campfire and spread the glowing embers so they would never ignite again. Without the spark of life, I felt empty, worthless, and an insufficient living thing who has no reason to go on. I cannot put into words how it feels to lose a child and then lose the man you love. It’s enough to make you crazy and doubt everything, even God! But Sarah was with me. Together, we saw what Jesse made with the leftover lumber. In the back bedroom, we found a coffin, and inside, wrapped in a blanket, was my baby. Sarah said, ‘Jesse knew he would not get well. Don’t worry about him or your child; Jesse is taking care of her until it’s time for you to join them.’

“As the snow began to melt, I buried my child in the arms of her father under the big cherry tree behind the house. Don’t feel sorry for me, for I have truly been blessed. I had the love of a good man; I had a beautiful little girl, and I have a dear friend named Sarah who is here to lead me to my Jesse and baby girl.”

Through tear-blurred vision, Sandy noticed the signature at the bottom: Ida Mae Washington. Sandy folded the letter and wiped her tears. She left the attic to find her husband.

“Where have you been?” Jay asked, concerned.

“In the attic.”

“Really? I didn’t see an opening for an attic,” Jay said in surprised relief. 

Taking a deep breath of determination, Sandy stated, “I want to live here.”

Jay looked puzzled. “But I’ve been saving to buy a new house on the other side of town. This place has only one bathroom, and it needs some work.”

An excited grin crossed Sandy’s face. “You can do the needed work. You’ll have to build another bathroom for sure, and while you’re at it, add on two or three more bedrooms, because I want this house and I plan to fill it with children.”

FOUR YEARS LATER

Holding 18-month-old Jay Junior on her swollen belly, she handed a bouquet of red roses to her three-year-old daughter Jessica, who placed the flowers in front of the headstone.

“Mommy, tell me what it says?”

“It says ‘Ida Mae, Jesse, and Baby Girl.’ Now go play while I pull some weeds. We have to pick Daddy up at work later.”

When Sandy finished, she looked for her daughter.

“Jessica, where is your sweater?” Sandy shook her head and thought, another sweater lost. That makes three just this week.

“I gave it to a girl. She said she didn’t have one, and it’s cold.”

Sandy looked around but didn’t see anyone. “Where is she?”

“She was over there.” Jessica pointed toward an old headstone.

Sandy walked over to the stone. It had only a single word on it: SARAH.

Bending down to better talk to her daughter, she asked, “Did the girl tell you her name?”

Jessica nodded her head. “Her name is Sarah, and she said she’d always be my friend.”

Sandy hugged her daughter and with a comforting smile, she said, “I’m sure she will.”

At the entrance of the cemetery, Sandy turned and softly whispered, “Thank you, Sarah.”