Free The Tender Flame by Al Lacy Page A

flowers. But the heavyhearted couple were immune to the night’s charming atmosphere as they held hands and talked of their future together, trying to keep their minds from the reality that tomorrow they must part.
    Grant and Lydia whispered tender words of love and comfort to each other, making the most of their last evening together, not knowing how long they would be separated. Finally, at midnight, they walked to the front door. Grant gently took Lydia’s face in his hands and placed soft kisses on her lips.
    She fought to keep from breaking down as she told him good night, but once inside the house, she dashed to her room, closed the door, and flung herself, sobbing, onto the bed.

    The next morning, Grant told his family good-bye and rode to the Reynolds house. After he said his good-byes to Duane, Beverly, and Billy, he and Lydia were left alone on the front porch.
    “Lydia, we won’t be able to write to each other while I’m in Mexico,” Grant said as he held her in his arms, “but we can maintain a closeness by holding up each other in prayer.”
    “I know, darling. But I’m going to write you a letter every day anyhow. That, along with the prayer, will make me feel closer to you.”
    The army horse standing near the porch whinnied. Grant looked at the horse and said, “Okay, okay. In a minute.” He turned back to Lydia. “I do have to get going, honey.”
    They kissed long and tenderly.
    “Good-bye, Lydia. I love you.”
    A sob caught in her throat, but she fought it as she said, “Good-bye, darling. I love you.”
    “Our tender flame will never stop burning.”
    “Never.”
    Grant kissed her again, then wheeled about and walked briskly to the horse. He swung into the saddle and rode away without looking back.
    Tears coursed down her cheeks as Lydia watched Grant until he was out of sight.
    The next day, Lydia applied for a job she knew was open in a clothing store in nearby Germantown. She was hired immediately and began to work eight hours a day, six days a week.
    True to her word, Lydia wrote Grant a letter each night. As the stack of letters grew, she kept it tied in a bundle with a blue ribbon.
    She hung on every word that came from Washington about the Mexican War and read the reports in the newspapers. When she read of the many casualties among the U.S. Army, she couldn’t help feelinga sense of dread. In the evenings, when her parents saw that she was burdened, they prayed with her, doing all they could to comfort and encourage her.
    Lydia clung to her family and to Grant’s family, but gained most of her strength from her private prayer time and reading her Bible.
    She was glad to have her job. It helped to pass the time, as well as giving her mind something to dwell on besides war and death. The money from the job was a help too. Much of it was used to purchase items that one day she and Grant would have in their home. She put away each purchase, looking for the day when she and Grant would make their home together. And three evenings a week, she did volunteer work in Montgomery Village’s small medical clinic.
    Still, at times the load grew heavy. One Sunday morning, during the altar call, Lydia went forward and told the pastor that she just needed to kneel and pray in God’s house. Pastor Britton had his wife join Lydia at the altar. Delia Britton listened to Lydia describe her fears, then prayed with her. Before they left the altar, Delia said, “Could we get together sometime soon and talk? I want to help you if I can.”
    “Of course,” Lydia said. “I’m free tomorrow night. Could we talk then?”
    “Tomorrow night would be fine.”
    Monday evening came, and Lydia and Delia sat on the edge of Lydia’s bed.
    “I don’t pretend to know exactly how you feel,” Delia said, “with the man you love off fighting a war, but I do know what God says in His Word, and I know that the God of peace is able to help you bear this burden.
    “Here’s one thing you need to think about: