The Greatest Gift. Diana Palmer

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СКАЧАТЬ got a story, honey,” she said softly. “They’ll all break your heart. Come on. One thing at a time. One step at a time. You’ll get through it.”

      Mary hesitated and grasped the other woman’s hand. “Thanks,” she said, trying to put everything she felt, especially the gratitude, into a single word.

      The worker smiled again. “People give thanks for their blessings, and they don’t usually think about the one they take most for granted.”

      “What?”

      “A warm, dry, safe place to sleep at night.”

      Mary blinked. “I see what you mean,” she said after a minute.

      The woman nodded, leading her through the other victims of brutal homes, overindulgence, bad luck and health problems that had brought them all to this safe refuge.

      John curled up next to Mary while she sat at the long table with Bob and Ann to talk.

      “Why can’t we go back home and pack?” Ann asked, her blue eyes, so like her mother’s, wide with misery. “All my clothes are still there.”

      “No, they aren’t,” Bob replied quietly, pushing his glasses up over his dark eyes. “Dad threw everything in the trash and called the men to pick it up before we were evicted. There’s nothing left.”

      “Bob!” Mary groaned. She hadn’t wanted Ann to know what her ex had done in his last drunken rage.

      Tears streamed down Ann’s face, but she brushed them away when she saw the misery on her mother’s face. She put her arms around Mary’s neck. “Don’t cry, Mama,” she said softly. “We’re going to be all right. We’ll get new clothes.”

      “There’s no money,” Mary choked.

      “I’ll get a job after school and help,” Bob said stoutly.

      The courage of her children gave Mary strength. She wiped away the tears. “That’s so sweet! But you can’t work, honey, you’re too young,” Mary said, smiling at him. “You need to get an education. But thank you, Bob.”

      “You can’t take care of all of us,” Bob said worriedly. “Maybe we could go in foster care like my friend Dan—”

      “No,” Mary cut him off, hugging him to soften the harsh word. “Listen, we’re a family. We stick together, no matter what. We’ll manage. Hear me? We’ll manage. God won’t desert us, even if the whole world does.”

      He looked up at her with renewed determination. “Right.”

      “Yes, we’ll stick together,” Ann said. “I’m sorry I was selfish.” She looked around at the other occupants of the shelter. “Nobody else here is bawling, and a lot of them look worse off than us.”

      “I was thinking the same thing,” Mary confided, trying not to let them all see how frightened she really was.

      She left them near Bev, who promised to keep an eye on them while she went to make phone calls.

      Fourteen years ago, she’d had such wonderful visions of her future life. She wanted children so badly. She’d loved her husband dearly. And until he got mixed up with the crowd down at the local bar, he’d been a good man. But one of his new “friends” had introduced him first to hard liquor, and then to drugs. It was amazing how a kind, gentle man could become a raging wild animal who not only lashed out without mercy, but who didn’t even remember what he’d done the morning after he’d done it. Mary and the children all had scars, mental and physical, from their experiences.

      Bob understood it best. He had a friend at middle school who used drugs. The boy could be a fine student one day, and setting fire to the school the next. He’d been in and out of the juvenile justice system for two years. His parents were both alcoholics. Bob knew too much about the effects of drugs to ever use them, he told his mother sadly, both at home and school. She hoped her other children would have the same stiff common sense later down the road.

      First things first. She had a good job. She had clients who were good to her, often giving her bonuses and even clothing and other gifts for the children from their abundance. Now that they knew her situation, she knew this would increase. Nobody she worked for would let Mary and her children starve. The thought gave her hope and peace. A house was going to be impossible, because rents were high and she couldn’t afford them yet. But there were small, decent motels where she could get a good weekly rate. It would be crowded, but they could manage. She could borrow a car to take them to and from school from one of her employers, who had a garage full and had often done this for her when her own car at home was in the shop. Clothing she could get from the local Salvation Army, or from the thrift shops run by the women’s abuse shelter and the churches.

      Her predicament, so terrifying at first, became slowly less frightening. She had strength and will and purpose. She looked around the shelter at the little old lady who was in a wheelchair and thin as a rail. She was leaning down on her side, curled up like a dried-up child, with one thin hand clutching the wheel, as if she were afraid someone would steal it. Nearby, there was a black woman with many fresh cuts on her face and arms, with a baby clutched to her breast. Her clothes looked as if they’d been slept in many a night. Against the far wall, there was an elderly man with strips of cloth bound around his feet. She found that she had more than the average guest here. She closed her eyes and thanked God for her children and her fortitude.

      Her first phone calls were not productive. She’d forgotten in the terror of the moment that it was Sunday, and not one person she needed to speak to was at home or likely to be until the following day. She asked Bev if she and the children could have one more night at the shelter and was welcomed. Tomorrow, she promised herself, they would get everything together.

      The next morning she was up long before the children. The shelter offered breakfast, although it was mostly cereal, watered down coffee and milk.

      “The dairy lets us have their outdated milk,” the woman at the counter said, smiling. “It’s still good. We have a lot of trouble providing meals, though. People are good to help us with canned things, but we don’t get a lot of fresh meats and vegetables.” She nodded toward some of the elderly people working their way through small bowls of cereal. “Protein, that’s what they need. That’s what the children need, too.” Her smile was weary. “We’re the richest country in the world, aren’t we?” she added, her glance toward the occupants of the shelter eloquent in its irony.

      Mary agreed quietly, asking for only a cup of coffee. The young mother, Meg, sat down beside her with her baby asleep in her arms.

      “Hi,” Mary said.

      The young woman managed a smile. “Hi. You got lots of kids.”

      Mary smiled. “I’m blessed with three.”

      “I just got this one,” Meg said, sighing. “My people are all in Atlanta. I came out here with Bill, and they warned me he was no good. I wouldn’t listen. Now here I am, just me and the tidbit here. Bev says she thinks she knows where I can get a job. I’m going later to look.”

      “Good luck,” Mary said.

      “Thanks. You got work?”

      Mary nodded. “I’m a housekeeper. I work for several families, all nice ones.”

      “You’re СКАЧАТЬ