19
Discover Smith Mountain Lake
WINTER 2015/16
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home of Caroline Hughes. It was
unnecessary, as there was no mistaking
the old building. It was the remains of an
old garage or barn, no doubt built when
the row houses were new. It was the only
original outbuilding still standing. All
the others had been replaced over the
years by metal sheds.
He stopped the car and grabbed a
flashlight from the glove compartment.
Walking on his toes over the frozen
ground, he approached a rickety door
that only half opened. He switched on
the flashlight and saw the glow of eyes in
a corner. When he turned the flashlight
toward the eyes, a wretch of a dog, an
old black thing was illuminated. With
great effort the dog struggled to its
feet, and then denounced this intruder
with a mournful howl. His matted
tail, however, belied any ferociousness
by banging rhythmically against the
wooden floor.
It was then that John heard a soft moan.
As he approached the dog, another form
came into view. A small, disheveled
lump wrapped in a tattered, dingy
blanket.
“Ellie?” he asked timidly, “Is that you
Ellie?”
“Who you?” she asked as she shaded her
eyes from the flashlight’s glare.
“Johnny,” he managed to choke out.
“It’s Johnny.”
She began to cry then and clasped her
hands in prayer.
“Thank you sweet Jesus,” she wailed
weakly, “Thank you for sending my
baby.”
John hurried to her and saw that she was
lying on a pallet of straw, next to the
dog. He learned later that she had slept
with that dog to stay warm. Her clothes
were grimy, and she reeked of neglect,
but he gathered her up in his arms and
buried his face in her neck and sobbed.
She patted his shoulder and clung to
him as he carried her to the car. Then,
he loaded the dog into the rear seat and
headed home to a warm bath, fresh
clothes, a hot meal, three excited kids,
and a sweet tempered young woman
who welcomed two complete strangers,
one of them an old flea-ridden dog, into
her home.
Their family doctor assessed the damage
to Ellie, and it was significant. She was
undernourished, and had several teeth
that needed immediate attention. The
stroke had left her with a paralysis to
one side of her face, which caused her
to drool uncontrollably. It had also left
her right arm weak. Therapy would be
helpful, they were told, in controlling
both symptoms. She had hypothermia
and was no doubt saved from freezing to
death by the dog’s body heat. Certainly,
she would not have made it through
the winter, the doctor told John, and
possibly not even until Christmas,
which was just a few short days away.
The good news was her heart was still
strong.
Ellie would survive, and have several
joyful years with her new family before
passing away quietly one night, with
John and Jill both by her side. John’s
children cherished her and spoiled her,
and called her Grandmother El. Phil
and his family also came to see her
often, so she was surrounded in her last
years by love, warmth, and security.
John never before nor since has
experienced a prophetic dream such as
the one that sent him in search of Ellie
during that cold and bleak midwinter,
some 20 years ago.
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