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The Christmas Hope(54)

By:Donna VanLiere


Lynn raised his eyebrow and looked at me. “Any other children?”

“No.”

“And you somehow managed to find a lawyer to draft new paperwork today?”

I nodded.

“With signatures?”

I nodded again.

“Is this your home, Patricia?”

I bit my lip.

Lynn looked at Roy and then back at me. “Do you understand the needs this child is going to have?”

“I know loss, Lynn. I know what it’s like to bury someone you love. Mark and I both know. The world looks different after that, people sound strange, TV doesn’t make sense, losing twenty dollars or stubbing your toe in the middle of the night doesn’t matter anymore because your heart doesn’t beat the same. Everything changes. It’s like nothing matters yet things matter more than they ever have because your soul has been ripped apart.” I stopped. “No one understands that except those who’ve buried someone close to them. Mark and I have.”

Lynn leaned back in his chair and sighed. If Emily was going to stay in our home then a few matters needed to be cleared up. “Who exactly is the social worker for this case?”

“I am,” Roy said.

“As of?”

“Right now.”

Lynn smiled.

“Can you think of any reasons why the courts wouldn’t transfer rights to us as legal guardians?” I asked.

“Oh, I can think of several,” Lynn said. I felt deflated. “I know you want to provide some stability for this child before she’s adopted but the courts don’t move that fast. You know that. They’ll also see many variables as to why they shouldn’t move in your favor but in favor of the foster system.” It’s astonishing how fast a promising situation can become hopeless but there was always a part of me that expected defeat. That way, when the rug was pulled out from underneath me I wouldn’t be too upset or disappointed. I knew I couldn’t expect a miracle at every turn but I at least wanted to try everything I could, and I did. I needed to be happy with that. Roy put his arm around me and helped me to the car. The wind was up; it had turned so cold.

I called Mark and asked if he would drive Emily to the office. I needed to get this over with so we could all get on with our lives. I looked out the window. It was snowing again. I watched for Mark to pull into the parking lot and then walked out the front doors of the building. I asked Mark if I could drive and he let me behind the wheel. I turned to look at Emily. She tried to smile but couldn’t.

“Emily,” I said, “I know you don’t want to talk about this but can I at least drive you to the home you’ll be staying in so you can meet them?”

She looked out the window and didn’t answer me. Mark was quiet as well. I drove through the snowy streets, past Mom and Dad’s house and the city park that had been decorated by the local schoolchildren with various Christmas scenes and through the town square and past Norma’s bare fir trees. I drove down Elmwood Lane and every house on the street had huge red bows on their mailboxes. I turned onto Boxwood and then Maple and the snow fell faster, sticking to the windshield. I drove round and round until I slowly pulled into a driveway.

“Here we are.” I said. I drove up the driveway and saw Emily looking out the window. She sat up and looked through the windshield. “Do you think you could stay here?”

Girl ran to the car and barked, wanting us to get out.

“Well?” I said, “Girl’s waiting for an answer. Do you think you could stay here?” I asked, watching her face. Mark grabbed her and pulled her onto the front seat.

She threw her arms around my neck.

Lynn McSwain had said he could think of several reasons why the courts wouldn’t grant us guardianship. “But I can think of several more why they would,” he’d said, smiling. Who knew that miracles still happen?

Five days ago I had asked God for just one day of peace in my life. I picked Emily up and kissed her face. That day had finally come.





TEN




Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but when dreams come true, there is life and joy.

—Proverbs 13:12



Two days later Meghan Sullivan awoke at one in the morning. “Ohh,” she moaned.

Nathan jumped to his feet. “Don’t move, honey,” he said, pulling on a pair of jeans and a university sweatshirt he had placed nearby in case of emergency.

“Aghh,” Meghan groaned, throwing her feet to the floor.

“What’s wrong?” Nathan’s dad asked, flipping on the light in the hallway.

“Grab the bag, Dad,” Nathan said, pulling on his shoes. Jack ran for the packed overnight bag as Nathan eased Meghan through the door.