One
Lauren Bradka stared at the news clipping and sighed, having just re-read it for what felt like the hundredth time. It shouldn’t have come as such of a surprise. She should’ve guessed it would happen sooner or later. It shouldn’t be bothering her so much.
But it was.
Lauren smoothed out the clipping and stared at the tiny, black-and-white photo of a man and woman, smiling and clearly in love. The woman’s dark hair was swept up in what looked like a spur-of-the-moment bun. Her face, though young in years, was prematurely lined—but stretched to beaming. She wasn’t bad-looking, though the one time Lauren had met her, it had been hard to understand what he saw in her. At the time, her facial expressions had ranged from blatant dislike to the phoniest smile Lauren had ever seen. In this picture, the woman had a real smile. A difference in the eyes, too, Lauren could tell, only because she’d spent so many hours poring over the clipping.
Lauren’s gaze traveled to the man’s face. He was harder to look at, so she only gave him a quick once-over. Dark hair, slightly longer than it had been the last time she’d seen him in person. Kind, warm eyes that had once made her melt. An enormous, beaming smile to match the woman’s.
The clipping was from the section of the paper marked Engagements. Above the picture were the couple’s names: Steven Jenkins and Georgia Matthews.
Lauren steeled herself and, like a moth drawn to a bonfire, read the article again.
Steven Jenkins, 40, of Newton, and Georgia Matthews, 42, of Chesterwood, are pleased to announce their engagement as of August 13. Jenkins, a widower, is the pastor of Newton Community Church and the father to an 11-year-old son, Benjamin. Matthews, also widowed, is a software consultant at ByteCorp, mother to a 19-year-old daughter, Aleah, and grandmother to Austin, 3, and Anna, 2. A June 6 wedding is planned.
Lauren pushed the clipping away, irritated at the pain it was causing. It shouldn’t matter that Steve was getting married. Even if he stayed single all his life, he would never be attracted to her. He had made that clear. Once, they’d spent a magical evening together, singing in the car, holding deep conversations, watching a beautiful production of Fiddler on the Roof, and sharing two kisses in Lauren’s driveway. Steve had told her that he’d had a wonderful time that night.
But he still hadn’t been able to fall for her.
And that was hard for Lauren to take, because she’d fallen for him years ago. The day she’d moved into the house next door to his, he and four-year-old Ben had come over to introduce themselves. Watching their interactions, Lauren had thought, This is the kind of man I want as a husband someday.
When she’d found out a few months later that he was a widow, there’d been no stopping the fantasies. Steve was good-natured, a wonderful father, easygoing and fun. And a Christian! Lauren had dated several guys before, but none of the relationships had ever lasted. They hadn’t understood why she never wanted to get drunk at the downtown bar, they’d been hurt when she refused to sleep with them, they’d gotten uncomfortable when she talked about Jesus. But Steve wouldn’t be like that.
Lauren had always believed that God had a special plan for her and Steve. For them to eventually fall in love and get married, and be a family together with Ben and whatever other children they were blessed with.
It hadn’t happened that way. It would never happen that way. Steve was getting married to someone else. Someone he loved in a way he had never been able to love Lauren.
God… Lauren prayed, burying her head in her arms. I miss him. I miss his kindness, his smile, his laugh. I miss his companionship, the talks we used to have. I miss seeing him interact with Ben. The face of Steve’s son swam in her mind, tousle-haired and joyful, and she felt another wave of longing. I miss Ben. I loved playing outside with him, building things with Legos and K’Nex, listening to him talk. I loved babysitting him, when I’d make dinner and we’d read together and I’d tuck him into bed. Those moments, though few, had been some of the most precious of all. Secretly, Lauren had pretended that Ben was her own son.
Lauren wanted kids more than anything, and she knew she would be a good mom. But the clock was ticking. She was already thirty-five. How old would she be by the time she actually met the right man, got married, and became pregnant with her first child? Dejectedly, she continued her prayer. I would be okay with this if I had a boyfriend. Where’s the special guy You’ve planned for me? Why haven’t I met him yet? How much longer am I going to have to wait?
She still remembered what Steve had told her that Easter of two years ago, the day they’d had the painful discussion about his lack of romantic feelings for her. The words that had comforted her in her anguish: “God will bring the right guy along. The one who will cherish you and adore you and love you with all the love he has to give. I fully believe that. God’s plans are always better than our own.”
Steve was right. God’s plans were infinitely better than anything Lauren could come up with. Who was she to complain that He hadn’t brought the right guy into her life yet? He would bring the right guy at the right time. Whatever His reason for holding back right now, it had to be a good one.
Okay, God, she decided. I’ll be patient. I’ll put away the article and stop pining after Steve. I’ll stop questioning You about when I’m going to meet my guy, because I know You’ll bring him along when the time is right. I trust You, God. You have great plans for me. Help me just to be patient until I can see what those plans are.
And please, God—please bring my guy along in time for us to be able to have kids.
But it was.
Lauren smoothed out the clipping and stared at the tiny, black-and-white photo of a man and woman, smiling and clearly in love. The woman’s dark hair was swept up in what looked like a spur-of-the-moment bun. Her face, though young in years, was prematurely lined—but stretched to beaming. She wasn’t bad-looking, though the one time Lauren had met her, it had been hard to understand what he saw in her. At the time, her facial expressions had ranged from blatant dislike to the phoniest smile Lauren had ever seen. In this picture, the woman had a real smile. A difference in the eyes, too, Lauren could tell, only because she’d spent so many hours poring over the clipping.
Lauren’s gaze traveled to the man’s face. He was harder to look at, so she only gave him a quick once-over. Dark hair, slightly longer than it had been the last time she’d seen him in person. Kind, warm eyes that had once made her melt. An enormous, beaming smile to match the woman’s.
The clipping was from the section of the paper marked Engagements. Above the picture were the couple’s names: Steven Jenkins and Georgia Matthews.
Lauren steeled herself and, like a moth drawn to a bonfire, read the article again.
Steven Jenkins, 40, of Newton, and Georgia Matthews, 42, of Chesterwood, are pleased to announce their engagement as of August 13. Jenkins, a widower, is the pastor of Newton Community Church and the father to an 11-year-old son, Benjamin. Matthews, also widowed, is a software consultant at ByteCorp, mother to a 19-year-old daughter, Aleah, and grandmother to Austin, 3, and Anna, 2. A June 6 wedding is planned.
Lauren pushed the clipping away, irritated at the pain it was causing. It shouldn’t matter that Steve was getting married. Even if he stayed single all his life, he would never be attracted to her. He had made that clear. Once, they’d spent a magical evening together, singing in the car, holding deep conversations, watching a beautiful production of Fiddler on the Roof, and sharing two kisses in Lauren’s driveway. Steve had told her that he’d had a wonderful time that night.
But he still hadn’t been able to fall for her.
And that was hard for Lauren to take, because she’d fallen for him years ago. The day she’d moved into the house next door to his, he and four-year-old Ben had come over to introduce themselves. Watching their interactions, Lauren had thought, This is the kind of man I want as a husband someday.
When she’d found out a few months later that he was a widow, there’d been no stopping the fantasies. Steve was good-natured, a wonderful father, easygoing and fun. And a Christian! Lauren had dated several guys before, but none of the relationships had ever lasted. They hadn’t understood why she never wanted to get drunk at the downtown bar, they’d been hurt when she refused to sleep with them, they’d gotten uncomfortable when she talked about Jesus. But Steve wouldn’t be like that.
Lauren had always believed that God had a special plan for her and Steve. For them to eventually fall in love and get married, and be a family together with Ben and whatever other children they were blessed with.
It hadn’t happened that way. It would never happen that way. Steve was getting married to someone else. Someone he loved in a way he had never been able to love Lauren.
God… Lauren prayed, burying her head in her arms. I miss him. I miss his kindness, his smile, his laugh. I miss his companionship, the talks we used to have. I miss seeing him interact with Ben. The face of Steve’s son swam in her mind, tousle-haired and joyful, and she felt another wave of longing. I miss Ben. I loved playing outside with him, building things with Legos and K’Nex, listening to him talk. I loved babysitting him, when I’d make dinner and we’d read together and I’d tuck him into bed. Those moments, though few, had been some of the most precious of all. Secretly, Lauren had pretended that Ben was her own son.
Lauren wanted kids more than anything, and she knew she would be a good mom. But the clock was ticking. She was already thirty-five. How old would she be by the time she actually met the right man, got married, and became pregnant with her first child? Dejectedly, she continued her prayer. I would be okay with this if I had a boyfriend. Where’s the special guy You’ve planned for me? Why haven’t I met him yet? How much longer am I going to have to wait?
She still remembered what Steve had told her that Easter of two years ago, the day they’d had the painful discussion about his lack of romantic feelings for her. The words that had comforted her in her anguish: “God will bring the right guy along. The one who will cherish you and adore you and love you with all the love he has to give. I fully believe that. God’s plans are always better than our own.”
Steve was right. God’s plans were infinitely better than anything Lauren could come up with. Who was she to complain that He hadn’t brought the right guy into her life yet? He would bring the right guy at the right time. Whatever His reason for holding back right now, it had to be a good one.
Okay, God, she decided. I’ll be patient. I’ll put away the article and stop pining after Steve. I’ll stop questioning You about when I’m going to meet my guy, because I know You’ll bring him along when the time is right. I trust You, God. You have great plans for me. Help me just to be patient until I can see what those plans are.
And please, God—please bring my guy along in time for us to be able to have kids.
two
“Ow! Adam, you’re squishing me!”
“Myla, tell Daddy I need to go to the bathroom.”
“Karalyn, can we borrow your phone for a minute?”
“Hey, I just saw a license plate from Hawaii!”
“Mitchell, Bridget needs to use the bathroom. Tell Daddy.”
“Don’t stop believing! Hold on to that fee-ee-ee-ling…”
Bobby Methrusa smiled to himself, listening to the cacophony of sounds emanating around him. Thirteen voices, carrying on about five different conversations at once. The van’s radio was on, and at least three of his siblings were singing along, all at different tempos and—in Adam’s case—with a different set of lyrics.
Ah, the soundtrack to his life.
Next to Bobby, sixteen-year-old Karalyn leaned forward to pass her phone to the twelve-year-old twins, Shona and Skylar. The third person in Bobby and Karalyn’s row, fifteen-year-old Mitchell, also leaned forward, tapping little Olivia on the shoulder. “Tell Dad Bridget needs a bathroom.”
Olivia kicked the driver’s seat in front of her and said, “Daddy! Bridget has to go potty and I do too!”
“It’s like telephone,” commented Oscar from the row behind Bobby. Bobby turned around and grinned in agreement.
Oscar, at twenty-one, was the oldest of the Methrusa clan. Bobby was the second-oldest, at eighteen. Then came Karalyn, Mitchell, Shona, and Skylar, followed by Lucas, age eleven, and Myla, ten. After Myla were the eight-year-old triplets, Nicholas, Adam, and Bridget, and finally Olivia, who was four.
Living in such a big family could be crazy sometimes—or just about all the time. But Bobby wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.
“Adam! Move over! You’re taking up too much space!” Nicholas’s voice, from the very back row of seats, rose louder than the rest.
“I can’t move over! Then I’ll squish Bridget’s bladder and she’ll pee all over me!”
“That’s gross,” commented Lucas, turning around to talk to the triplets. “And stop complaining, Nick. I bet Bobby, Karalyn, and Mitchell are way more squished than you.”
Bobby was pretty squished, but he didn’t mind. Being squished in a van for hours on end just came with the territory when you were taking a 1000 mile road trip with your fourteen-person family. They took this trip to their grandparents’ house every summer, and it was always a challenge to fit everyone and their luggage into the vehicle. But once everyone was situated, the driving really wasn’t bad.
“All right,” Bobby’s dad announced as they pulled into a gas station. “Everybody needs to use the bathroom while we’re here; I want this to be our final stop before we get home.”
According to the signs Bobby had been seeing, they were still about fifty miles from Lafayette, the closest large city to the Methrusas’ hometown of Brucksdale, Indiana. From Lafayette to Brucksdale would be about an hour, and then they would be home. Summer vacation would be just about over, and it would be time to start gearing up for Bobby’s second year of college.
The gas station Bobby’s dad had chosen had exactly two bathrooms—a Men’s single and a Women’s single. Nice pick, Dad, Bobby thought sarcastically as he got in line behind all his brothers. This was going to take a while. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped on the app for his school’s email server. All summer, he’d been waiting for one message in particular, becoming more and more impatient as the weeks wore on. He waited for his inbox to load, and…
There it was, at the top of the page: Peer Mentor Information.
“I got it!” Bobby exclaimed triumphantly.
“Got what?” Mitchell wanted to know.
“The email I’ve been waiting for. About being a peer mentor.” Bobby tapped on the email and read through it:
Dear Bobby,
Congratulations! You have been selected as a Peer Mentor for this year’s incoming freshman class! Your application essay, transcript, staff recommendations, and involvement on campus indicate that you will be a valuable member of our team.
Being a Peer Mentor is a serious obligation. You must meet with your mentees at least once every two weeks throughout the fall semester. You are their first point of contact for questions about campus life, student support, and university regulations. Please report to the Admissions office (Room 206, Madeleine Hall) on or before August 21 to receive your informational packet. This packet will contain your contract, names and email addresses for your mentees, and additional information about your responsibilities.
Thank you for volunteering your time to this cause.
Sincerely,
Barbara Hatias
Student Support Coordinator
St. Agatha University
Bobby felt his smile stretching across his face. He’d been chosen! He was going to be a peer mentor!
“Congrats,” said Oscar, who’d been reading over his shoulder. “Sounds like you’ll be a busy boy.”
“Wait, so you’ll be mentoring freshmen?” Mitchell asked.
“Yep,” said Bobby. “Four little freshies, coming my way.”
Mitchell snickered. “Except some of them might be older than you.”
It was true. From the time he was a baby, Bobby had always done his best to follow along with whatever Oscar was doing—never mind that Oscar was three years older. Bobby’s parents had placed him in first grade when most kids his age were starting kindergarten, so now, despite being a sophomore, Bobby was the same age as the incoming freshmen.
“I don’t think that matters,” Bobby told Mitchell. “I’m the one with college experience. That’s the most important part of being a mentor.”
Bobby waited until everyone was back in the van before sending his reply, thanking Barbara Hatias for selecting him and assuring her that he would pick up his informational packet as soon as possible. Maybe even today. It would be about a 45 minute drive to campus once Bobby got home, but what was 45 additional minutes on the road after a seventeen-hour journey?
Bobby itched to get the mentoring materials as soon as possible. He was an older brother. That was part of what defined him. He was always there for his siblings when they needed help or advice. And now he was going to have that opportunity for some of the incoming freshmen at St. Agatha. He couldn’t wait to reach out and plan his group’s first meeting.
“Myla, tell Daddy I need to go to the bathroom.”
“Karalyn, can we borrow your phone for a minute?”
“Hey, I just saw a license plate from Hawaii!”
“Mitchell, Bridget needs to use the bathroom. Tell Daddy.”
“Don’t stop believing! Hold on to that fee-ee-ee-ling…”
Bobby Methrusa smiled to himself, listening to the cacophony of sounds emanating around him. Thirteen voices, carrying on about five different conversations at once. The van’s radio was on, and at least three of his siblings were singing along, all at different tempos and—in Adam’s case—with a different set of lyrics.
Ah, the soundtrack to his life.
Next to Bobby, sixteen-year-old Karalyn leaned forward to pass her phone to the twelve-year-old twins, Shona and Skylar. The third person in Bobby and Karalyn’s row, fifteen-year-old Mitchell, also leaned forward, tapping little Olivia on the shoulder. “Tell Dad Bridget needs a bathroom.”
Olivia kicked the driver’s seat in front of her and said, “Daddy! Bridget has to go potty and I do too!”
“It’s like telephone,” commented Oscar from the row behind Bobby. Bobby turned around and grinned in agreement.
Oscar, at twenty-one, was the oldest of the Methrusa clan. Bobby was the second-oldest, at eighteen. Then came Karalyn, Mitchell, Shona, and Skylar, followed by Lucas, age eleven, and Myla, ten. After Myla were the eight-year-old triplets, Nicholas, Adam, and Bridget, and finally Olivia, who was four.
Living in such a big family could be crazy sometimes—or just about all the time. But Bobby wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.
“Adam! Move over! You’re taking up too much space!” Nicholas’s voice, from the very back row of seats, rose louder than the rest.
“I can’t move over! Then I’ll squish Bridget’s bladder and she’ll pee all over me!”
“That’s gross,” commented Lucas, turning around to talk to the triplets. “And stop complaining, Nick. I bet Bobby, Karalyn, and Mitchell are way more squished than you.”
Bobby was pretty squished, but he didn’t mind. Being squished in a van for hours on end just came with the territory when you were taking a 1000 mile road trip with your fourteen-person family. They took this trip to their grandparents’ house every summer, and it was always a challenge to fit everyone and their luggage into the vehicle. But once everyone was situated, the driving really wasn’t bad.
“All right,” Bobby’s dad announced as they pulled into a gas station. “Everybody needs to use the bathroom while we’re here; I want this to be our final stop before we get home.”
According to the signs Bobby had been seeing, they were still about fifty miles from Lafayette, the closest large city to the Methrusas’ hometown of Brucksdale, Indiana. From Lafayette to Brucksdale would be about an hour, and then they would be home. Summer vacation would be just about over, and it would be time to start gearing up for Bobby’s second year of college.
The gas station Bobby’s dad had chosen had exactly two bathrooms—a Men’s single and a Women’s single. Nice pick, Dad, Bobby thought sarcastically as he got in line behind all his brothers. This was going to take a while. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped on the app for his school’s email server. All summer, he’d been waiting for one message in particular, becoming more and more impatient as the weeks wore on. He waited for his inbox to load, and…
There it was, at the top of the page: Peer Mentor Information.
“I got it!” Bobby exclaimed triumphantly.
“Got what?” Mitchell wanted to know.
“The email I’ve been waiting for. About being a peer mentor.” Bobby tapped on the email and read through it:
Dear Bobby,
Congratulations! You have been selected as a Peer Mentor for this year’s incoming freshman class! Your application essay, transcript, staff recommendations, and involvement on campus indicate that you will be a valuable member of our team.
Being a Peer Mentor is a serious obligation. You must meet with your mentees at least once every two weeks throughout the fall semester. You are their first point of contact for questions about campus life, student support, and university regulations. Please report to the Admissions office (Room 206, Madeleine Hall) on or before August 21 to receive your informational packet. This packet will contain your contract, names and email addresses for your mentees, and additional information about your responsibilities.
Thank you for volunteering your time to this cause.
Sincerely,
Barbara Hatias
Student Support Coordinator
St. Agatha University
Bobby felt his smile stretching across his face. He’d been chosen! He was going to be a peer mentor!
“Congrats,” said Oscar, who’d been reading over his shoulder. “Sounds like you’ll be a busy boy.”
“Wait, so you’ll be mentoring freshmen?” Mitchell asked.
“Yep,” said Bobby. “Four little freshies, coming my way.”
Mitchell snickered. “Except some of them might be older than you.”
It was true. From the time he was a baby, Bobby had always done his best to follow along with whatever Oscar was doing—never mind that Oscar was three years older. Bobby’s parents had placed him in first grade when most kids his age were starting kindergarten, so now, despite being a sophomore, Bobby was the same age as the incoming freshmen.
“I don’t think that matters,” Bobby told Mitchell. “I’m the one with college experience. That’s the most important part of being a mentor.”
Bobby waited until everyone was back in the van before sending his reply, thanking Barbara Hatias for selecting him and assuring her that he would pick up his informational packet as soon as possible. Maybe even today. It would be about a 45 minute drive to campus once Bobby got home, but what was 45 additional minutes on the road after a seventeen-hour journey?
Bobby itched to get the mentoring materials as soon as possible. He was an older brother. That was part of what defined him. He was always there for his siblings when they needed help or advice. And now he was going to have that opportunity for some of the incoming freshmen at St. Agatha. He couldn’t wait to reach out and plan his group’s first meeting.
Three
The day was finally here. The day Aleah Matthews had been thinking about, dreaming about, praying about for the past eight months. The day that for so long had seemed like it would never happen.
Aleah’s first day of college.
Aleah hummed as she got dressed, then bustled into the room across the hall. “Rise and shine!” she announced quietly, placing a hand on her sleeping son’s shoulder.
Austin stirred and scrunched his little face before opening his eyes. “Hi Mommy.”
“Hi, baby,” said Aleah, tousling her son’s hair. It was exactly the same shade as her own—a deep, dark brown, almost black. “Do you remember what day it is?”
Austin wrinkled his nose, then his eyes grew wide and he nodded solemnly. “First day of school for Mommy.”
“Yep! Which means you and Anna get to start going to school in the morning.” Austin and Anna had been attending Little Rainbows Childcare Center since they were each a few months old, but lately they’d been going in around noon, so Aleah could spend mornings with them before heading to her job at Walgreens. Now that Aleah was starting school, her mornings at home would be cut down to Tuesdays, Thursdays, and weekends.
She hated the idea of having less time to spend with her kids. But she would need a higher-paying job if she ever wanted to support them on her own. And her path to a higher-paying job involved obtaining a nursing degree from St. Agatha University.
“School in the morning,” Austin repeated, sitting up. “Lunch too, right, Mommy?”
“That’s right! I’ll pack you guys something special.”
As Austin got up and started chattering excitedly about his favorite foods, Aleah moved over to Anna’s bed. “Little princess… time to get up!” Aleah gently shook Anna’s shoulder the way she had shaken Austin’s, but Anna didn’t react. “Anna… school time!”
“We need to sing the song,” Austin declared, jumping onto his sister’s bed and bouncing on his knees. “The special wake-up song, ‘member, Mommy?”
Aleah smiled. She always sang the same song whenever she woke her children up from naps. “All right, ready? Rise, and shine, and give God the glory, glory…”
Austin’s little voice joined in, and by the end of the song, Anna’s eyes were open and she was smiling. “Wake up!” she squealed.
“I’m already all waked up, ya silly!” Austin exclaimed. “You gotta wake up now.”
Aleah listened to her children’s happy chatter as she picked out clothes for them. They were getting so big. How was it that Austin was almost three and a half already? And that Anna’s second birthday was already over two months ago?
Aleah dressed Austin first, and he zoomed out to the kitchen while Aleah helped Anna into a pale blue sundress. “Ready for school?” Aleah asked her daughter.
Anna nodded, her brown eyes sparkling. Aside from her hair, which was a couple shades lighter, Anna was practically a mirror image of how Aleah had looked at that age.
Aleah brushed her daughter’s hair, then grinned at Anna in the mirror. “Guess what time it is now.”
A big grin stretched over Anna’s face. “Breakfast!”
Aleah and Anna walked hand-in-hand to the kitchen, where Aleah’s mom was setting a large stack of pancakes on the table.
“Thanks, Mom,” Aleah smiled as she helped Anna into her booster seat. Austin was already in his, his face a mess of pancake crumbs and syrup.
“I had to make something special for your first day of school,” her mom replied, returning the smile. “Mind if I say the prayer this morning?”
“Not at all,” Aleah replied. Everyone linked hands, and Aleah’s mom prayed out loud. “Dear God, thank You for our family, and for this time together this morning. Thank You that Aleah gets to start college today. Help her to learn a lot and shine for You. And please let Austin and Anna have a good day at daycare. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
Aleah looked around the table, joy and love swelling in her heart. Sometimes she could scarcely believe this was her life. Aleah and her mom had walked through seven dark years after the death of Aleah’s father back when Aleah was ten. They’d had almost no relationship with each other, and not even a hint of a relationship with God. Every day had brought nothing but stress, tension, and bitterness.
But not anymore. Life was beautiful now, and getting better every day.
After breakfast, Aleah and her mom worked together to clean the table, the chairs, and the kids’ faces. “How are you feeling?” Aleah’s mom asked her.
“Excited. And… maybe a little nervous. But mostly excited.”
“I’m excited too,” her mom told her. “And so proud of you. Someday you’ll make a great nurse.”
“I hope so,” said Aleah. She sighed. “I feel bad about sending Austin and Anna to daycare full-time again.”
“They’ll be fine. It’s only three days a week. You’ll be able to pick them up by what, three-thirty?”
Aleah nodded. “Except not next Wednesday because of that peer mentor thing I have to go to. Oh no, what if they’re always in the afternoon?” Stupid peer mentoring program. Aleah could see the benefit to having a peer mentor, but she wished they didn’t have to meet in person. Her life was busy enough as it was.
“Don’t worry about it,” her mom advised her. “One day at a time. Isn’t that what the Bible says?”
Aleah couldn’t help smiling, the way she did every time her mom quoted the Bible. “Yes,” she agreed. “Jesus tells us not to worry about tomorrow, but to trust Him instead.”
“There you go then.” Aleah’s mom made one more swipe across the table, then straightened up. “You’d better get moving. It’s past seven-thirty.”
Ten minutes later, Aleah was merging onto the highway to Little Rainbows. “Put the music on, Mommy!” Austin piped up from the backseat.
“Music!” echoed Anna.
“How do you ask?” Aleah reminded them, her hand already reaching for the play button on the car’s CD player.
“Please!” Austin and Anna crowed together.
Aleah hit play and the sounds of Wee Sing Bible Songs filled the car. Aleah and her kids sang along happily until they reached the childcare center, where Aleah walked her children inside and dropped them off in their respective classrooms.
And just like that, Aleah had the remaining 30 minutes of the drive all to herself, to think about the magnitude of today.
It had been over a year since she’d done anything academic. Over two years since she’d set foot in a classroom, since she’d completed her senior year online. And now she was really about to start college? The work was bound to be harder than anything she’d done in high school. And how would she have time to complete assignments, between being a mom and working at Walgreens and participating in church activities and all the other aspects of day-to-day life?
Aleah could feel her heart starting to pound with anxiety, so she took a deep breath to calm down. Way back when she’d first started considering it, she had prayed that God would let her know whether college really was the best decision at this point in her life, and there had been enough clues along the way to lead her to believe that it was. A brochure about St. Agatha’s great financial aid program. A talk with a sixty-year-old Walgreens customer who shared story after story about how being a nurse was the best decision she’d ever made. A mention from someone at church about scholarships that were specifically for single mothers. And then—once she’d decided to apply—the fact that St. Agatha had accepted her.
College would work out. It had to.
<--Back to book details page
Aleah’s first day of college.
Aleah hummed as she got dressed, then bustled into the room across the hall. “Rise and shine!” she announced quietly, placing a hand on her sleeping son’s shoulder.
Austin stirred and scrunched his little face before opening his eyes. “Hi Mommy.”
“Hi, baby,” said Aleah, tousling her son’s hair. It was exactly the same shade as her own—a deep, dark brown, almost black. “Do you remember what day it is?”
Austin wrinkled his nose, then his eyes grew wide and he nodded solemnly. “First day of school for Mommy.”
“Yep! Which means you and Anna get to start going to school in the morning.” Austin and Anna had been attending Little Rainbows Childcare Center since they were each a few months old, but lately they’d been going in around noon, so Aleah could spend mornings with them before heading to her job at Walgreens. Now that Aleah was starting school, her mornings at home would be cut down to Tuesdays, Thursdays, and weekends.
She hated the idea of having less time to spend with her kids. But she would need a higher-paying job if she ever wanted to support them on her own. And her path to a higher-paying job involved obtaining a nursing degree from St. Agatha University.
“School in the morning,” Austin repeated, sitting up. “Lunch too, right, Mommy?”
“That’s right! I’ll pack you guys something special.”
As Austin got up and started chattering excitedly about his favorite foods, Aleah moved over to Anna’s bed. “Little princess… time to get up!” Aleah gently shook Anna’s shoulder the way she had shaken Austin’s, but Anna didn’t react. “Anna… school time!”
“We need to sing the song,” Austin declared, jumping onto his sister’s bed and bouncing on his knees. “The special wake-up song, ‘member, Mommy?”
Aleah smiled. She always sang the same song whenever she woke her children up from naps. “All right, ready? Rise, and shine, and give God the glory, glory…”
Austin’s little voice joined in, and by the end of the song, Anna’s eyes were open and she was smiling. “Wake up!” she squealed.
“I’m already all waked up, ya silly!” Austin exclaimed. “You gotta wake up now.”
Aleah listened to her children’s happy chatter as she picked out clothes for them. They were getting so big. How was it that Austin was almost three and a half already? And that Anna’s second birthday was already over two months ago?
Aleah dressed Austin first, and he zoomed out to the kitchen while Aleah helped Anna into a pale blue sundress. “Ready for school?” Aleah asked her daughter.
Anna nodded, her brown eyes sparkling. Aside from her hair, which was a couple shades lighter, Anna was practically a mirror image of how Aleah had looked at that age.
Aleah brushed her daughter’s hair, then grinned at Anna in the mirror. “Guess what time it is now.”
A big grin stretched over Anna’s face. “Breakfast!”
Aleah and Anna walked hand-in-hand to the kitchen, where Aleah’s mom was setting a large stack of pancakes on the table.
“Thanks, Mom,” Aleah smiled as she helped Anna into her booster seat. Austin was already in his, his face a mess of pancake crumbs and syrup.
“I had to make something special for your first day of school,” her mom replied, returning the smile. “Mind if I say the prayer this morning?”
“Not at all,” Aleah replied. Everyone linked hands, and Aleah’s mom prayed out loud. “Dear God, thank You for our family, and for this time together this morning. Thank You that Aleah gets to start college today. Help her to learn a lot and shine for You. And please let Austin and Anna have a good day at daycare. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
Aleah looked around the table, joy and love swelling in her heart. Sometimes she could scarcely believe this was her life. Aleah and her mom had walked through seven dark years after the death of Aleah’s father back when Aleah was ten. They’d had almost no relationship with each other, and not even a hint of a relationship with God. Every day had brought nothing but stress, tension, and bitterness.
But not anymore. Life was beautiful now, and getting better every day.
After breakfast, Aleah and her mom worked together to clean the table, the chairs, and the kids’ faces. “How are you feeling?” Aleah’s mom asked her.
“Excited. And… maybe a little nervous. But mostly excited.”
“I’m excited too,” her mom told her. “And so proud of you. Someday you’ll make a great nurse.”
“I hope so,” said Aleah. She sighed. “I feel bad about sending Austin and Anna to daycare full-time again.”
“They’ll be fine. It’s only three days a week. You’ll be able to pick them up by what, three-thirty?”
Aleah nodded. “Except not next Wednesday because of that peer mentor thing I have to go to. Oh no, what if they’re always in the afternoon?” Stupid peer mentoring program. Aleah could see the benefit to having a peer mentor, but she wished they didn’t have to meet in person. Her life was busy enough as it was.
“Don’t worry about it,” her mom advised her. “One day at a time. Isn’t that what the Bible says?”
Aleah couldn’t help smiling, the way she did every time her mom quoted the Bible. “Yes,” she agreed. “Jesus tells us not to worry about tomorrow, but to trust Him instead.”
“There you go then.” Aleah’s mom made one more swipe across the table, then straightened up. “You’d better get moving. It’s past seven-thirty.”
Ten minutes later, Aleah was merging onto the highway to Little Rainbows. “Put the music on, Mommy!” Austin piped up from the backseat.
“Music!” echoed Anna.
“How do you ask?” Aleah reminded them, her hand already reaching for the play button on the car’s CD player.
“Please!” Austin and Anna crowed together.
Aleah hit play and the sounds of Wee Sing Bible Songs filled the car. Aleah and her kids sang along happily until they reached the childcare center, where Aleah walked her children inside and dropped them off in their respective classrooms.
And just like that, Aleah had the remaining 30 minutes of the drive all to herself, to think about the magnitude of today.
It had been over a year since she’d done anything academic. Over two years since she’d set foot in a classroom, since she’d completed her senior year online. And now she was really about to start college? The work was bound to be harder than anything she’d done in high school. And how would she have time to complete assignments, between being a mom and working at Walgreens and participating in church activities and all the other aspects of day-to-day life?
Aleah could feel her heart starting to pound with anxiety, so she took a deep breath to calm down. Way back when she’d first started considering it, she had prayed that God would let her know whether college really was the best decision at this point in her life, and there had been enough clues along the way to lead her to believe that it was. A brochure about St. Agatha’s great financial aid program. A talk with a sixty-year-old Walgreens customer who shared story after story about how being a nurse was the best decision she’d ever made. A mention from someone at church about scholarships that were specifically for single mothers. And then—once she’d decided to apply—the fact that St. Agatha had accepted her.
College would work out. It had to.
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New Chance is the second installment in the New Life series.
Click here to learn about the first book, New Life.
Click here to learn about the first book, New Life.
