Father of the world and all that? Sure, I managed to figure out my error as I got older. I’m certainly no atheist, if that’s what you mean. I went to Sunday school. I believe the Bible. It’s just . . . ”
Under Evelyn’s steady, encouraging gaze, the words twisted out of Vicki as she whirled back to the window. “Just take a look at that. The starving kids. The dirt. The wars. The . . . the pain. My Father’s world—it . . . it’s like a bad joke. What kind of sick parent creates a world like that and calls it beautiful?”
Evelyn shook her head slowly. “Do you think it’s really fair to blame God for that mess? It’s we humans who’ve played havoc with His creation, after all. ”
“Oh, sure,” Vicki said impatiently. “We humans made the mess, and we probably do deserve anything we get. But if God bothered enough to create all this in the first place, it seems He should care enough to do something to clean it up. Then maybe people like you wouldn’t have to give up your whole life—” She stopped, astonished at herself. What on earth was independent, hardheaded Vicki Andrews doing spilling her guts like this to a total stranger? There was something about this old woman.
She managed a rueful smile. “I’m sorry. This all started as an apology for cutting you off. I must seem pretty silly to you. It’s just . . . well, I hadn’t heard that old song in years, not since I finally broke my sister of singing it over and over.”
“Of course you don’t seem silly,” Evelyn answered firmly, “and you really don’t need to apologize. You mentioned your sister. Would that be Holly?”
Vicki’s eyebrows shot up. “Yes, how did you know? Not many people guess; we don’t look anything alike.”
Evelyn smiled faintly. “For one, you act like sisters.”
“Yes, well, you’re right. Holly is about two-and-a-half years younger. She used to drive me crazy singing that song. There were times I wanted to strangle the person who taught it to her.”
“Well, actually—” Evelyn coughed before she finished apologetically—“that would be me."
Chapter Five
Vicki was so dumbfounded that she could do no more than stare.
“You are Vicki and Holly Craig? Or were, since I see you now go by the name Andrews. Your parents were Jeff and Victoria Craig?” Evelyn looked at Vicki with bright eyes. “I thought I was mistaken when you told me your name. But when you introduced your friend—sister, that is . . . well, Vicki and Holly are not a particularly common combination, and you do look very much like your mother. Add to that a favorite hymn two little girls I once knew loved to sing over and over again. That’s when I was sure.”
Vicki’s head was whirling so much that she could hardly breathe, and she found herself groping for the support of the windowsill. “You’re saying you met my parents and knew Holly and me when we were children? Then that’s why you—this place—seemed so familiar. I thought I was imagining it. But I don’t understand how you could know us. And who were my parents? Where did you meet them—and us?”
“Why, right here. Your parents were living in our guest quarters when you were born. ” Evelyn leaned forward to study Vicki’s face. “You really have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”
Vicki shook her head. “I never even knew I’d been in Guatemala until my birth certificate was turned over when I went off to college. Not the original either since Holly and I are adopted. But it lists Guatemala as my birth country. Are you sure you have the right people? That this isn’t some kind of weird coincidence?”
“Well, that’s easy enough to establish. Come with me.” Evelyn took Vicki by the arm.
Vicki was too stunned to talk as she accompanied Evelyn out of the room, into the freight elevator, through the connecting gate into the Casa de Esperanza courtyard
Under Evelyn’s steady, encouraging gaze, the words twisted out of Vicki as she whirled back to the window. “Just take a look at that. The starving kids. The dirt. The wars. The . . . the pain. My Father’s world—it . . . it’s like a bad joke. What kind of sick parent creates a world like that and calls it beautiful?”
Evelyn shook her head slowly. “Do you think it’s really fair to blame God for that mess? It’s we humans who’ve played havoc with His creation, after all. ”
“Oh, sure,” Vicki said impatiently. “We humans made the mess, and we probably do deserve anything we get. But if God bothered enough to create all this in the first place, it seems He should care enough to do something to clean it up. Then maybe people like you wouldn’t have to give up your whole life—” She stopped, astonished at herself. What on earth was independent, hardheaded Vicki Andrews doing spilling her guts like this to a total stranger? There was something about this old woman.
She managed a rueful smile. “I’m sorry. This all started as an apology for cutting you off. I must seem pretty silly to you. It’s just . . . well, I hadn’t heard that old song in years, not since I finally broke my sister of singing it over and over.”
“Of course you don’t seem silly,” Evelyn answered firmly, “and you really don’t need to apologize. You mentioned your sister. Would that be Holly?”
Vicki’s eyebrows shot up. “Yes, how did you know? Not many people guess; we don’t look anything alike.”
Evelyn smiled faintly. “For one, you act like sisters.”
“Yes, well, you’re right. Holly is about two-and-a-half years younger. She used to drive me crazy singing that song. There were times I wanted to strangle the person who taught it to her.”
“Well, actually—” Evelyn coughed before she finished apologetically—“that would be me."
Chapter Five
Vicki was so dumbfounded that she could do no more than stare.
“You are Vicki and Holly Craig? Or were, since I see you now go by the name Andrews. Your parents were Jeff and Victoria Craig?” Evelyn looked at Vicki with bright eyes. “I thought I was mistaken when you told me your name. But when you introduced your friend—sister, that is . . . well, Vicki and Holly are not a particularly common combination, and you do look very much like your mother. Add to that a favorite hymn two little girls I once knew loved to sing over and over again. That’s when I was sure.”
Vicki’s head was whirling so much that she could hardly breathe, and she found herself groping for the support of the windowsill. “You’re saying you met my parents and knew Holly and me when we were children? Then that’s why you—this place—seemed so familiar. I thought I was imagining it. But I don’t understand how you could know us. And who were my parents? Where did you meet them—and us?”
“Why, right here. Your parents were living in our guest quarters when you were born. ” Evelyn leaned forward to study Vicki’s face. “You really have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”
Vicki shook her head. “I never even knew I’d been in Guatemala until my birth certificate was turned over when I went off to college. Not the original either since Holly and I are adopted. But it lists Guatemala as my birth country. Are you sure you have the right people? That this isn’t some kind of weird coincidence?”
“Well, that’s easy enough to establish. Come with me.” Evelyn took Vicki by the arm.
Vicki was too stunned to talk as she accompanied Evelyn out of the room, into the freight elevator, through the connecting gate into the Casa de Esperanza courtyard
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