Angel Train by Gilbert Morris

looked forward to the trip for it would give her time to think. She had thought of little but her dream and knew from the meeting at the church that something must happen soon. She prayed all the way to the prison, fifteen miles away, and reached it well before dark. Her uncle’s house was close to the prison, which was surrounded by thick, high walls. The sight of them always gave her a chill, and her visits always brought a sense of pain that men should be locked up like animals, but she knew it had to be.
    “Whoa, Queenie,” she said as she pulled up in front of the house. She started to get down and saw her Uncle Paul Bryce walking rapidly out of the house.
    “Charity!” he cried. “How good to see you!” He reached up and lifted her down easily. He was a tall man, lean and strong, with the reddish hair and the gray eyes that his sister, Charity’s mother, had.
    “It’s good to see you, Uncle Paul. Look, I’ve got all kinds of goodies here for the prisoners. What shall we do with them?”
    Eileen Bryce came hurrying out. She was forty-six, a handsome blonde with light green eyes. “Charity, I’m so glad you’ve come.” The two women embraced, and she added, “It looks like you brought enough to feed the world.”
    “It won’t be nearly enough, but I like to bring something. I brought a lot of tracts, too, Uncle Paul.”
    “Well, the prisoners will take the tracts if you put them alongside a slice of pie.” He smiled. “You’re getting prettier every time I see you.”
    “You’re just trying to get some of my pies, Uncle Paul.” Charity smiled and patted his arm. “Let’s get these inside, or should we take them directly to the prison?”
    “I think I’ll take them to the prison. You stay here and visit with Eileen. You can distribute them and visit in the morning. How long can you stay?”
    “Oh, until you get tired of me.”
    “Well, that will never happen,” Eileen smiled. She was very fond of Charity and all the other children. Both she and her husband spoiled them dreadfully every chance they got. “Come on in now. You must be tired. The food’s still hot. Still on the stove.” She led Charity inside, and Charity sank into a chair, accepting the food and hot coffee gratefully. As she ate, she gave Eileen the news of the family, and then when her Uncle Paul came back, she had to tell it again.
    “What’s happening?” he said, taking a cup of coffee from Eileen. “Is the family well?”
    “Very well, Uncle Paul, but there’s a great deal of difficulty facing us.”
    “Difficulty? What sort of difficulty?” Warden Bryce listened as his niece outlined the problem. He was a highly intelligent man and kept up with national affairs. It turned out he knew a great deal about the exodus to Oregon, and the three of them talked for a long time about the possibility. Finally, Paul said, “Well, Charity, it’s a difficult trip. Dangerous, even deadly, and I’d be sorry to see you and your family settle so far away.”
    “We’d miss you, too,” Charity said, “but we’ve got to do something.”
    Paul Bryce had never been an intimate member of the Pilgrim Way. He thought the Pilgrims were too narrow, and he was a member of the Methodist Church as was his wife. He still had great faith in the small group, especially in Gwilym and his family. “Well,” he said finally, “while you’re here, maybe God will open a door.”
    “I was reading that in the Bible last night,” Eileen said suddenly. “It’s in the book of Revelation. God said to one of the churches, I forget which, I set before you an open door.”
    “That’s what we need, Aunt Eileen,” Charity responded, “a door.” She hesitated. “I had a dream about you, Uncle Paul.”
    “Well, there are young women dreaming about me all over this country.” Paul winked at her and ignored Eileen’s sniff. “What was the dream?” He listened as Charity related the dream, and then he said, “So, that’s why you’ve