 presents Anne Blythe and Stephen McNally. The Mutual Network in Cooperation with Family Theater presents World Without End, starring Anne Blythe. To introduce the drama, here is your host, Stephen McNally. Thank you, Tony Lafrono. Family Theater's only purpose is to bring to everyone's attention a practice that must become an important part of our lives. If we get to win peace for ourselves, peace for our families, yes, and peace for the world, Family Theater urges you to pray, pray together as a family. And now to our drama. World Without End is perhaps the most unusual play as far as an actress is concerned of any ever presented by Family Theater. During the next half hour, you will hear Anne Blythe in not one, but four distinct roles. First as Mary, then later as Anna, as Kathleen, and as Sarah. Now our curtain rises, the time late autumn of 1950. The place, a small mountain lodge in the backwoods of Canada's Quebec province. Chris, it's starting to snow. Amazing. But it's snowing hard. Suppose we're snowed in here. Oh, perfect. If there's anything better than a one-month honeymoon, it's a three-month honeymoon. Oh, and what about your job? Oh, who cares about a job? Come here. I'm here. No, no, no. Down here by the fire. There. There, that's better. Hello, Mr. Jordan. Hi, Mr. Jordan. Sweet. We should think about the storm. You think about it. We must get out by Wednesday. How else can you be back at work on time? Well, I think of all the famous buildings just waiting to be designed by an architect named Christopher Jordan. Oh, we'll get out. How? Skis or snow shoes. Snow shoes, me? I don't know how. Then you'd better learn. You're Canadian now, remember? I remember. Are you glad? Glad. Well, glad that I made that trip to New York and that Ellen Jensen invited us to the same party. Dear blessed Ellen, Chris was that two weeks real. Me, I wouldn't know. Fire needs a log on it. Oh, who cares? Personally, I prefer embers. Personally, I think you're lazy. Oh, personally, I think you're right. Ha, ha, ha. Is everyone like this? Oh, some people are worse. Chris, have you ever been in love before? Oh, sure, hundreds of times. Oh, don't joke. I want to know. It's a big word, love. Depends on what you mean. You know. I mean the forgetting. Forgetting that you're you. When all the things that have always seemed unreal and wonderful in your life, sunsets, moonlight across still water, waves pounding on a beach, things you've seen and heard and worshiped, but they were always apart from you. Suddenly aren't apart any longer. The sunsets are singing inside you. Oh, that's crazy. Sunsets can't sing. Well, I'm not so sure. There aren't really words to say it. Maybe ecstasy is what I mean. Not the ecstasy that's gone in a moment, but the kind that's only born when the miracle happens. When the man and woman meet who, through all of time, were destined only for each other. And you can even ask if I've ever felt that for anyone else. Chris. You're the only one, Mary. The only one there could be, now and forever. Forever, Chris. It is forever. Chris. What? I thought I heard someone calling. Well, I didn't. Perhaps it was just a. Hello, Chris Jordan. Well, you're right. Why, it's Renee. Who's he? A trapper who lives up the river aways. Hello. Hello, Renee. Chris, my name is. Good to see you. It's good to see you, Renee. Oh, this is my wife. Darling, Renee Shevny. My grand pleasure, madam. Thank you, Renee. Come in, come in. I asked her only because this telegram is wet for you in village. They asked me to bring it on wine. A telegram? Oh. Oh, thanks, Renee. But it was. Au revoir, au revoir, madam. Goodbye, Renee. Goodbye. Chris, a telegram. What do you suppose it could be? Maybe opening it would be a good way to find out, huh? You'd better read it. Chris. I should have expected it, I guess. Remember I told you I was an officer in the Naval Reserve? Yes, of course you did. Well, it probably doesn't mean anything. It just says to report. Maybe they just need you to train recruits. Yeah, sure. Could mean a lot of things. Besides, you're married now. That should make a difference. Marry? Yes. I wasn't married when this all began. I mean, if they do need me. I'll start packing. This means we'll have to take the morning train. Married, darling, you're wonderful. Chris. Will you go home to your folks and wait there? Of course not. I'm a Canadian now, remember? Besides, your mother will be lonesome. We'll be able to console each other. Mother's crazy about you. I am about her, too. Maybe I like the kind of son she turned out. Chris. I'm not going to be silly about all this. I know lots of men are having to go, but please try especially hard to take care of yourself. Don't you know I've got a charmed life? Well, if I didn't, I'd never have found you. Chris. Chris, please be careful and come back to me. I will, Mary. It will be soon, darling. Believe me, it will be soon. Chris, darling, is it only yesterday you went away? It seems like five centuries ago. Your mother says I must resign myself to waiting and not for it, and she's right, of course. It's just the first shock of having you gone. Chris, my sweet, at long last your letter came this morning. I read it a dozen times and then read it to your mother, leaving out only little parts that were especially our own. To have your own dear words there on paper. Something I can cling to. And I know it's silly of me to worry, but I had a rather terrifying dream last night. So, darling, the first chance you have to send word of any kind. Preferably a telegram. Please indulge a very foolish wife and tell me you're all right. Even though you've been gone nearly a month now, I still haven't. Yes. Yes, Mother Jordan, come in. Mary, a telegram. For you, it just came. No. Mother Jordan, it may be leave. Chris may have leave. Well, perhaps if you would open it instead of just staring at the envelope, you'd know. Look at me, I'm all thumbs. I never could open one of these without tearing the message. There. What does he say, Mary? Mary, it's not from him. Then who? We regret to inform you that your husband, and some Christopher James Jordan, who's killed in Mary. Told her I'm here, Mrs. Jordan? Yes, Dr. Mary will be right out. Doctor, are you sure this is wise to tell her now? Sure. In a case like this, no doctor can be sure of anything. But it has been 10 days, and after all, perhaps the shock of it will well bring her out of herself. Give her a new reason for existence. Oh, I hope you're right. But if only the child could cry, let go. I know. Mrs. Jordan. Yes? You've been mighty fine about this yourself. I guess it's helped me to have someone else who needed help. Here she is now. Come in, Mary dear. You wanted to see me, Dr. Mason. Yes. Good morning, Mary, my dear. I'm looking fine today. Now, Mary, I know what you're going to say, doctor. You know? That I must get myself in hand. That I must try to understand that there's a meaning somewhere behind all that's happened. Even my husband's death. I am trying to understand, but I'd rather not talk about it, do you mind? Mary, in a way, this is another matter, or perhaps it isn't. Perhaps it's a part of the ultimate plan of things that does make it more understandable. What do you mean? My child, when you collapsed 10 days ago, and I was called in, I discovered certain symptoms that indicated more than just the usual conditions resulting from simple emotional shock. More than what? And during subsequent treatment, I came to a most important realization. What are you trying to say? You're going to have a child, Mary. No, it's not true. Yes, Mary, it is. A child? And that's going to make it easier? Mary. His child will be born long months after Chris is dead. His child will come into life to one day be taken as Chris himself was taken. His child will be brought into the senseless, meaningless chaos of terror and destruction. Listen, my dear. I wish to God it weren't true. Mary, you mustn't say such a thing. This is a reason for you to live. I had a reason. Chris was my reason. All I asked and he was taken from me will let me be taken too, but not this. Not his child into this world. Mary? Mary? Are you? That is not important. I come but as a messenger. They have sent me. They? Who do you mean by they? You must come with me to understand. It may not be told in words. You must come, Mary. Where? Across space and time. It is your one hope to understand. You shall come with me, Mary. The first is here. Tell me, Mary. Tell me now what you see. Small cottage with a thatched roof. This is another country. It is Belgium. And now within the cottage, what do you see there? A young man in a strange uniform. He's crying. The girl stands by his side. What are they saying to each other? Listen, Mary Jordan. Listen and you shall know. And I did run away on it. I had to. I was not alone. There were others, hundreds of them. I cannot believe it. Not you, Paul. You are not a deserter. You do not understand. The leader of the enemy is unbeatable. There's to be a battle tomorrow at the village beyond the hill. The enemy will win. That will mean the end of Belgium, the end of Europe. We've got to get away on it. We've got to. We'll put everything we can in the cart and start now. Perhaps somewhere we can find refuge from the conqueror. No, Paul. But, Anna. We do not run away. And you will go back to your regiment. Now, before they discover you have gone. I can't go back. You can't do nothing else. Oh, Paul, have we not always prayed that your child would be born here on the land of his fathers and his father's fathers? How can that land be safe for our child if we will not fight for it? Of course, you will go back. And you will help our army to beat this unbeatable conqueror. And you will return here to be with me in my time. You will go back, Paul. Now. Anna, you're not afraid. You're not afraid even of the conqueror. I am not afraid. Go, Paul. Now. Yes, Anna. I will go. Goodbye. Goodbye, Paul. Paul, where did you say the battle would be tomorrow? The village beyond the hill. Waterloo. You have seen? Yes. Yes, but I still don't understand. There are others. Come. The second is here. This country is? It is Ireland. A stone house beside a lake. A crowd of people storming at the door. They're angry, threatening. Within Mary. It is within this place that you must see. Show it's worth the one, is it? Well, it's worth it to have. Michael, no. Not with the gun. They don't realize what they're doing. They're half mad with hunger. You can't, Michael. They're my people. And I know them better than you do. It's not words they'll understand. And I say it is, and I'll prove it to them. Kathleen, no. You can't go out there. Wait, you're... You, Tim Rogan, and Leo Moneal, and all of you, I said stand back. Kathleen, this is hopeless. I know what I'm doing, Michael. Now, all of you, what's the meaning of this? You know what the meaning is. You've got food here. You and your great-lord, a cellar full of it. You're never gonna let them in the house of any one of you. Oh, and it's that shame you should be for believing otherwise. Because my Michael is a lord, do you think he's not Irish in his heart? I say there's food inside. And I say there's not. What we had, we shared like all the rest. Now, get on with you. You men brandishing your staves and holes, you do better to be working with them. This morning, there are new plants sprouting in the valley fields, the plants we've been praying for for these many months. Plants that would grow the faster with some digging. If there were men with the brains and the brawn to be doing this, that means the beginning of the new crop. You hear that, you lazy brawlin' man sheath? New plants, get on with you. Oh, it was hope they needed. That's all. New hope. Kathleen, are there new plants in the valley field? Very few. Oh, but there'll be more and soon. There must be, Michael. Because if there aren't, then it's the death of Ireland and the death of Ireland is fair, the death of the world. And the world doesn't die, Michael. It gets almighty sick sometimes and sets up a terrible whale of agony. And those who lack good ears are sore distressed. Oh, but if you listen sharp, even through the moaning and the cries of terror, you can hear another sound. It's laughter, Michael, the laughter of another day when all of this shall be forgotten. Michael, remind me. Remind you? Oh, that was a pretty phrase I may just know. Remind me to tell young Michael shortly after he's born. He'll be proud to know he has so devilish smart a mother. Kathleen, I can't believe it. Believe what? That you're actually not afraid of the famine. Afraid? Sure, how can I be when I've got your son beneath my heart? Would you have him born a coward? Of course I'm not afraid. Now, Mary, now do you understand? Believe I'm beginning to. There is yet another. Come. And here. What do you see here, Mary? This country is America, a pass in the mountains of the West. A wagon train. And one wagon apart from the other, a woman sitting alone as a man comes up to her. Listen, Mary, for the last time, listen. Sarah? Sarah, it's decided. What is, Jim? Well, the wagon train's going to make camp here. We're just came with the epidemics worse beyond the mountain, so we're all going to stay here till the sick ones in the train get well or die. And we'll take a vote whether to go on or turn back. Turn back? Oh, they're not really thinking of turning back. Of course they are. After all, if there's worse sickness beyond the mountains. Oh, Jim. What's wrong, Sarah? I don't want to stay here. Nana, I'm sure I don't ever want to turn back whatever the rest decide. What else can we do, honey? We can go on now, alone. Leave the wagon train. Oh, you made me a promise, Jim. I'm holding you to it. But, Sarah. A farm in California somewhere in the side of the ocean. That's what you said. And we'd be there in time for our child to be born on that farm. That means we can't wait, Jim. Stop and now might mean we'd spend the winter here. Sarah, honey, be reasonable. We started out with the Donner party, and we can't go on alone. Why not? We've got a good wagon and a strong team. Supplies enough to last. And our prayers, Jim. We've got our prayers. You promised, Jim. All right. I'll go and tell the others. Oh, no. No, they try to stop you. Let's go now. Now, Jim. All right, Sarah. That's the way you want it. You, get up there! Don't look so worried, Jim. We'll make it. I know where we're going. And you aren't afraid of the plague. I'm not afraid of anything. There's nothing to be afraid of. Not for us. There never can be. Now do you understand? Yes. I believe I do. Those three, Anna, Kathleen, Sarah, they were all, all. Your own grandmothers and mothers of grandmothers. Three of the numberless women through whom you yourself came into being. Three of the lights of many colors cast into the prism, which is Mary Jordan, to converge in her and cast the white light of hope into the future. They had no fear, war, famine, pestilence. And they had no fear. They were women, Mary. Fear is for men who can know the miracle of birth but from a distance. It is the women who are part of that miracle who must endure. Now and forever. It is the women who must endure. Yes. It is clear now. I do see. I do understand. Yes. Yes. Yes. I do see. I do see now. Mary, Mary, Mother Jordan. Mary, you must. I'm going to have his child. His child, Mother Jordan, and I'm glad. Mary, he'll live again in his child. He'll live till he'll laughter. I'm going to have Chris's child. You're not afraid. Afraid. Afraid of what? This is Stephen McNally again. You know, some folks just love a symphony. Are those a Dixieland band? And a boogie-woogie? Well, maybe that's your choice if you happen to be an extremist. Me, well, I'm afraid I'm not much of a musician. But in a sense, though, I'm an extremist, too. Because for me, there's a whole wonderful symphony in the jingle-jangle of a bunch of keys. Here, let's see, this shiny one. The key to my house lets me into the shouts of my kids, the welcoming kiss of my wife, and boy, those biscuits smell good in the oven. Here's the key to my car, a passport, so to speak, to the mountains, the seashore, all sorts of pleasant places. And this little one now, my mailbox key. Oh, much more important than its size. It's just full of surprises, this little fella. I mean beyond the phone and the gas bill and the income tax form. Well, I won't bore you with a whole catalog, but here's the key to an old trunk I haven't used in years, the garage key, and here's the... I forgot what this one even is, though I've kept it on my ring for years. Are you like me, afraid to throw away an old key, thinking sometime, maybe tomorrow, you'll need it. The chance to open an old treasure chest somewhere or a castle, maybe your castle in Spain. I'll bet you are. Yes, it's kind of fun contemplating a bunch of keys. I never think of keys as lucky things up. It's always more important and pleasant to think of what they'll open up. You know, prayer is a sort of key, too. But I'm afraid for all too many of us, it's like that old key in my ring. Oh, it's there, all right, but we've forgotten its particular use. But it's a tremendously important key, prayer is, for it opens the gates of heaven, unlocks nature's greatest harmonies, and lets us into the boundless treasury of God's mercy. A closing reminder, the family that prays together stays together. More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams are. The word family theater has presented World Without End, starring Ann Blythe. Stephen McNally was your host. Others in our cast were Virginia Gregg, Ted D'Corsia, Stan Waxman, Tom Holland, Tudor Owen, Robert Clark, Norman Field, and Michael Hayes. The script was written for family theater by True Bortman with music composed and conducted by Harry Zimmerman and was directed by Joseph F. Mansfield. This is Tony LaFranco expressing the wish of family theater that the blessing of God may be upon you and your home and inviting you to join us next week when family theater will present the babysitter, starring Barbara Hale and Lyle Becker. Join us, won't you? Family Theater broadcast throughout the world and originates in the Hollywood studios of the world's largest network. This is the mutual broadcasting system.