The Gift of Hope (2 page)

He smiled down on his daughter’s dark braids, lopsided because he hadn’t mastered the art of doing her hair the way she liked. He knew Anna needed a mother, but it wouldn’t be fair to marry again when the pain of losing his wife was still so acute. Melinda’s death had left a big hole in both their lives. Perhaps some day he’d learn to love again, but for now, he could only do his best to be both father and mother to his daughter.

“A little girl at school broke her arm,” Anna said. “She fell off the top of the slide trying to walk down it.”

Noah had been lost in his own thoughts, but he turned his full attention back to his daughter. She rarely mentioned anything about school, so he encouraged her to tell him more.

“She’s only in first grade,” Anna added.

“Is her arm in a sling?” he asked to keep the conversation going.

“Yes, a blue one. Do you think Mrs. Randall can decorate the church on crutches?”

“She’s a very spirited lady. I suspect she’ll try, but lots of people will help her.”

“Can we get a big Christmas tree this year? A girl in my class said her family cuts their own.”

Noah sighed. They’d had this conversation several times, and he couldn’t seem to muster any enthusiasm for bringing a real tree into the house. It brought back too many memories of cutting and trimming a live evergreen when he and Melinda were newlyweds.

“Don’t you think it’s nicer to leave the trees in the woods where they can be enjoyed year-round?”

“Daddy, they have tree farms now. You’re supposed to cut them for Christmas.”

“We’ll see,” he said.

It wasn’t a satisfactory response, but it was the best he could do without dredging up painful memories. What made it harder was Anna had been a Christmas baby, and her birthday celebration usually got lost in the bustle. He worried because he wasn’t able to make their home the warm, happy haven he’d enjoyed as a boy. Both sets of grandparents lived in faraway Oregon and weren’t able to make the long trip to Iowa for the holidays. It would just be Anna and him, and his duties multiplied with extra services and activities at church during the Christmas season.

They walked up the steep incline to the church, pausing at the top so he could stop a minute and admire the idyllic setting. The buff brick building seemed part of the landscape with stately evergreens flanking it, and the large cross on the steep roof glowed in the morning. It overlooked the valley where the small town of Blairton nestled among the hills of Western Iowa. It was a small, unpretentious church, but Noah saw it as his new spiritual home, a place where he could spend many years in the Lord’s service.

“There are other people here,” Anna said as they walked past a few cars in the parking area to the side entrance leading directly to the lower level. “I guess people are here to help with the pageant. I hope I can be an angel. Do you think they have wings?”

“Real angels or angels in the pageant?” he teased, already knowing she hoped to wear a flowing gown and wings.

“In the pageant, Daddy!” she impatiently reminded him with a nine-year-old’s indignation.

“This is my first Christmas in Blairton, too,” he said. “We’ll just have to see how they do things here.”

If there was one thing he’d learned as an associate minister in a Des Moines church, it was every congregation had its own ways of doing things. He was there to teach and preach the word of the Lord and to give spiritual guidance and comfort wherever it was needed. It wasn’t his job to change long-accepted traditions.

“Maybe you could sort of hint I’d like to be an angel.”

“We’ve already had this conversation, honey. Miss Hope is in charge of the pageant. Whatever part she gives you, I’m sure you’ll do your very best.”

“Oh, okay,” she said in a voice that made him wonder how difficult she would be in her teens. Thankfully, he didn’t need to worry for a few more years.

Hope saw the minister and his daughter standing in the corridor outside the basement commons and nodded in their direction. She was loaded down with costumes she’d pulled from a big closet at the back of the room. Her intention was to spread them out on tables and assign parts according to sizes, but she could already see it wouldn’t be easy. For one thing, the oft-used garments had a distinctively musty smell. Everything that could be laundered should be. One plan was to let each child take home his or her costume, but as a librarian, she knew things weren’t always returned promptly. She was tempted to wash and iron them all herself, but when on earth would she have time?

“If those angel costumes are laundered one more time, they’ll most likely fall apart,” Granny Doe said, sitting at a table with her leg propped up on a chair.

Hope had tried to persuade her to stay home, but her grandmother insisted on coming to the church.

“I want Harriet Llewellyn to know I’m not letting a little fracture interfere with Christmas,” she’d insisted.

Getting her grandmother safely down the front porch steps at home on crutches had been nerve-racking, and at church she’d ended up going down the stairs on her bottom.

“This crown needs more glitter,” Harriet said, bringing a handful of costume pieces to the table. She was a self-appointed member of the pageant committee since she’d written the script more than twenty years ago.

This was Hope’s first year in charge, and she planned to make some changes. For one thing, she wanted the little children, the angels, to sing instead of having to memorize stilted lines only vaguely related to the Biblical version. She hadn’t consulted with Harriet, relying instead on mothers of the participants for help.

“This lovely blue robe is for the Virgin Mary,” Harriet said. “My granddaughter Emily, Ernestine’s little sister, always plays that part.”

Harriet was an intimidating figure, nearly six foot tall with short silver hair and a slender figure. She wore expensive tailored suits, almost always in shades of blue. Although she served on many church committees, she was better known for giving advice than for actually doing work.

Hope looked with dismay at the blue velvet robe designated for the part of Mary. Emily Llewellyn had grown dramatically in the last year, almost as tall as Hope and not nearly as slender as her grandmother. If she could get into the robe at all, it would barely reach her knees. Much as Hope didn’t want conflict with Harriet, she would have to be firm about casting the children according to the size of the costumes.

She sighed with relief when Noah and Anna came into the commons area. Harriet hurried over and began a long dialogue with the minister. Anna moved away and came toward Hope.

“Good to see you, Anna,” Hope said with a welcoming smile.

She loved all her Sunday school students, but she was especially drawn to Anna, knowing from experience how hard it was to grow up without a mother. Added to that, the young girl had had to move to a strange town and start all over.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Anna,” Hope said. “If you don’t mind, you can help me sort costumes and lay them out on tables. Our casting call is tomorrow afternoon. I’ll need to pass out the robes to be laundered then, but first I have to take inventory of what we have.”

She’d decided to take a chance on sending the angel and shepherd costumes home because there seemed to be more than needed, but she’d do the wise men and Holy Family herself. The Baby Jesus figure needed a good bath and new swaddling clothes, perhaps something one of her volunteer mothers would do.

“They look awfully short,” Anna said, holding up one of the white cotton gowns.

“The youngest children are always angels.” Hope saw the disappointment on her face. “I’d like to have a choir of older children as angels, but I’m afraid the congregation would be disappointed if the little ones don’t have their wings.”

She picked up a pair of glittering cardboard wings, thankful she wouldn’t have to make new ones because they’d all been redone last year. Before she could go back to the closet to get the shepherd’s costumes, Harriet hurried toward her.

“I’m so concerned about your leg,” she said, stopping first to hover over Granny Doe where she sat. “Fortunately you have your lovely granddaughter to help with the decorating. Everyone will understand if you let her carry the responsibility, but, of course, you’ll still have input. I told Reverend Langdon the congregation wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Noah came toward them, frowning slightly when he heard the last few words.

“I’m not sure it’s fair to put the pageant and the decorating on Hope,” he said. “There must be many other talented people in the congregation.”

Anna gave him a puzzled look, perhaps surprised by her father’s comment.

“Oh, Hope is a marvel,” Harriet said. “I’m sure she’ll do just fine, and, of course, she’ll have lots of help. Trimming the Christmas tree is an important event in the life of the church.”

Hope’s eyes met Noah’s, and he seemed to be giving her permission to refuse. He shook his head slightly, but when she looked at Granny Doe, she didn’t have the heart to say no.

“Of course, I’ll help, but my grandmother is always in charge of decorations.”

“I have plans made, and we always have lots of help,” Granny Doe said, sounding a bit surprised because she’d been sure Harriet would want the job for herself.

“Of course you do!” Harriet said with a smile that pulled her thin lips into something like a grimace. “I do have one suggestion, though.”

Hope held her breath, expecting the worst. She was afraid the older woman would suggest floating a plastic Jesus over the altar or lighting the exterior with purple lights.

“My granddaughter, Ernestine, loves baking, and she makes such lovely things. I think she’d be willing to make all the cookies for our traditional Christmas Eve reception after the midnight service. I’ll bring it up at the church council meeting if you don’t mind, Reverend Langdon.”

“If she’s willing, that would be very nice,” he said.

Hope noticed Harriet didn’t call the minister by his first name, which was a bit surprising. She’d been chair of the search committee and was sometimes a bit patronizing.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Noah asked when Harriet had hurried away for an ‘important’ appointment.

“She gets her nails done on Saturday morning,” Granny Doe muttered under her breath.

Hope ignored the comment and smiled at the minister. “There is one thing. Would you help my grandmother get to the car when we’re ready to leave? I’m so afraid she’ll fall trying to get up the stairs on crutches.”

“I’ll be happy to, but you’ve hit on something I’m going to bring up at the next council meeting. We’re really not up to code on handicap access, although it’s not a problem getting to the sanctuary through the front door. I’d like to look into a chair lift so our older members can participate in activities in the common room.”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Granny Doe said. “I know several people who have to miss church suppers and such because it’s too hard for them to get up and down stairs.”

“Let me know when you’re ready to leave,” Noah said. “I’ll be in my office going over tomorrow’s sermon.”

“I’ll stay here and help,” Anna said.

Even with the help expected to come for the casting session tomorrow, Hope felt a bit overwhelmed by what she’d taken on. She hoped to add fresh touches to the pageant, but she had to avoid making it too complicated

At the end of her work session, she loaded the trunk of her car with costumes she wanted to take care of herself and asked Anna to tell her father they were ready to leave.

While Noah helped her grandmother up the stairs, Hope went to bring the car as close as possible to the door.

“Thank you so much,” she said when Noah had settled Granny Doe and her crutches into the car.

“If there’s anything else I can do, please feel free to ask.” He smiled at Granny Doe, and for a moment Hope was transfixed. When the mask of sadness fell from his face, he was a beautiful person.

She couldn’t allow herself to think that way. He was still a man in mourning, and only heartache could come from forgetting that fact. She’d spent too many years with a father who pretended to be happy for her sake.

When she was alone in the car with Granny Doe, Hope firmly put the minister out of her thoughts and questioned Harriet’s surprise insistence she be in charge of decorating.

“Why would she do a thing like that?” Hope asked. “How can I possibly do a good job with decorating and the pageant?”

“You’ll have lots of help, but I think I know her reasoning. She wants to keep you so busy you won’t have time to think about Noah, let alone do anything to attract him.”

“She doesn’t have any reason to think I would!”

“Maybe not, but Harriet has been trying to find a husband for her granddaughter, Ernestine, for years. Noah is handsome and personable, not to mention a widower. Men like him don’t come along very often, especially not in Blairton.”

“But she’s so highhanded! Does Ernestine want to bake cookies for the whole congregation? Does she even know her grandmother has volunteered her?”

“Baking is one of the few things Ernestine does well, not that she isn’t a sweet girl.”

“I still don’t see how overloading me with activities will give Ernestine a chance with Noah. People aren’t pawns you can move around to suit your own purposes.” Hope didn’t know when she’d felt so frustrated. “You know how important the Lord is to me. I’m happy to do whatever I can for the church, but I’ve never heard anything so silly. No, not silly, degrading. Poor Ernestine! I wonder whether she knows her grandmother is matchmaking.”

“At least Harriet didn’t try to take over the decorating,” Granny Doe said in a mild voice. “Don’t worry. I have lots of friends who will help.”

“Noah needs help more than I do. The poor man doesn’t know what Harriet is up to. Does every church have someone like her?”

“She means well and supports the activities of the church,” Granny Doe said. “She just gets carried away when she gets an idea. Look on the good side. We’ll have a wonderful Christmas. It’s the season of peace and love. Anything can happen.”