herself. “Now, you go wash the sticky off your hands while I gather the pieces. Just you wait and see—it will be beautiful.”
Two weeks later Sarah brought over a small mosaic tile and presented it to Keith. She had a similar one on her kitchen counter at home, but Keith’s had the teapot handle, intact, sticking out from it. “Keith, I want you to put this someplace where you can always remember. Even something that appears broken, in the hands of a master artist, can be made into something more beautiful than the original.”
“Like Jesus does for us,” he’d said in his unique and simple faith, then set the tile on his dresser in the display stand that Sarah had brought him. Even now in the dark, Tammy could see its outline on Keith’s dresser. He rubbed his fingers across that tile on days when things were going wrong. “It reminds me,” he would say.
“I need that reminder too,” Tammy whispered as she walked from the room. She wasn’t certain how she could face the next few days bearing the weight of her grief. And Keith, well, he was going to be so difficult as he continued to work through all this. Today he had vacillated between asking her, “Why you sad?” and all-out wailing because he missed Sarah. It was likely to be relived over and over in the next few days. Tammy didn’t feel like she had the strength to face it.
She made her way to the kitchen and began unloading the dishwasher, flashes of Sarah playing through her mind. The image that seemed to hover in her mind the most was of Sarah at her kitchen table, her blonde hair sticking out in all directions from her messy bun, wearing a T-shirt, sweatpants, and glasses that looked like Sarah Palin’s. Large textbooks were spread out all around her on the table, and she had a pencil in her mouth, another in her hand, and a third behind her ear. She always looked so tired during finals or when she had a paper due. How often had Tammy envied her? What would it be like to work yourself to the point of exhaustion and actually move toward a goal in the process?
With Keith, homeschooling was the best option, which made working from home her only means of income. She enjoyed her sewing business, but she had no hopes of a better education, of a better job, or of ever having money left over at the end of the month.
She parted the curtains that looked toward Sarah’s house. There was a light on in the kitchen and the dim glow of the television in the living room. Poor Annie. Suddenly Tammy felt selfish for feeling so sorry for herself. She still had Keith. And Ethan. Ann was left alone with no family at all. Tammy couldn’t begin to imagine it.
She needed to do something to help Ann, but what? She thought of the pillows she’d been making for Sarah and decided she would make them for Ann now, just so she would know that there were still people here for her, people who would help her in any way they could. Tammy knew she wouldn’t sleep tonight until she finished them.
In her sewing room, she looked at all the alterations she needed to finish by tomorrow afternoon. They would have to wait. For now, she pulled out the fabric she’d chosen just a few weeks ago. At the time, the bright colors had seemed so appropriate. Sarah was graduating; her sister was coming to visit for the first time in years. It held all the colors of new starts and happy beginnings. Now they seemed so wrong. But they would have to move past that, because Sarah would want them to be happy. Maybe, by this one little gesture, Annie would get a measure of cheer.
It was after one in the morning when Tammy finally stood up and walked through the kitchen to the laundry area. She started a load of darks, then walked over to the stack of Keith’s crayon drawings.
The first was a drawing of Sarah—Tammy could identify Sarah’s stick figure by the large hoop earrings—throwing a ball to the Keith stick figure in his wire-rimmed glasses. Tammy couldn’t decide if she wanted to
Two weeks later Sarah brought over a small mosaic tile and presented it to Keith. She had a similar one on her kitchen counter at home, but Keith’s had the teapot handle, intact, sticking out from it. “Keith, I want you to put this someplace where you can always remember. Even something that appears broken, in the hands of a master artist, can be made into something more beautiful than the original.”
“Like Jesus does for us,” he’d said in his unique and simple faith, then set the tile on his dresser in the display stand that Sarah had brought him. Even now in the dark, Tammy could see its outline on Keith’s dresser. He rubbed his fingers across that tile on days when things were going wrong. “It reminds me,” he would say.
“I need that reminder too,” Tammy whispered as she walked from the room. She wasn’t certain how she could face the next few days bearing the weight of her grief. And Keith, well, he was going to be so difficult as he continued to work through all this. Today he had vacillated between asking her, “Why you sad?” and all-out wailing because he missed Sarah. It was likely to be relived over and over in the next few days. Tammy didn’t feel like she had the strength to face it.
She made her way to the kitchen and began unloading the dishwasher, flashes of Sarah playing through her mind. The image that seemed to hover in her mind the most was of Sarah at her kitchen table, her blonde hair sticking out in all directions from her messy bun, wearing a T-shirt, sweatpants, and glasses that looked like Sarah Palin’s. Large textbooks were spread out all around her on the table, and she had a pencil in her mouth, another in her hand, and a third behind her ear. She always looked so tired during finals or when she had a paper due. How often had Tammy envied her? What would it be like to work yourself to the point of exhaustion and actually move toward a goal in the process?
With Keith, homeschooling was the best option, which made working from home her only means of income. She enjoyed her sewing business, but she had no hopes of a better education, of a better job, or of ever having money left over at the end of the month.
She parted the curtains that looked toward Sarah’s house. There was a light on in the kitchen and the dim glow of the television in the living room. Poor Annie. Suddenly Tammy felt selfish for feeling so sorry for herself. She still had Keith. And Ethan. Ann was left alone with no family at all. Tammy couldn’t begin to imagine it.
She needed to do something to help Ann, but what? She thought of the pillows she’d been making for Sarah and decided she would make them for Ann now, just so she would know that there were still people here for her, people who would help her in any way they could. Tammy knew she wouldn’t sleep tonight until she finished them.
In her sewing room, she looked at all the alterations she needed to finish by tomorrow afternoon. They would have to wait. For now, she pulled out the fabric she’d chosen just a few weeks ago. At the time, the bright colors had seemed so appropriate. Sarah was graduating; her sister was coming to visit for the first time in years. It held all the colors of new starts and happy beginnings. Now they seemed so wrong. But they would have to move past that, because Sarah would want them to be happy. Maybe, by this one little gesture, Annie would get a measure of cheer.
It was after one in the morning when Tammy finally stood up and walked through the kitchen to the laundry area. She started a load of darks, then walked over to the stack of Keith’s crayon drawings.
The first was a drawing of Sarah—Tammy could identify Sarah’s stick figure by the large hoop earrings—throwing a ball to the Keith stick figure in his wire-rimmed glasses. Tammy couldn’t decide if she wanted to
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