to stay fit and trim so I can keep up with my patients.”
“Back to the Valentine’s banquet,” Grandpa said, wiggling his bushy eyebrows, “you just never know who you might meet there. Could be the man of your dreams.”
Susan brushed the idea aside. “I doubt that would happen. Besides, I know all the single men at our church, and none of them interests me in the least.”
The three of them sat in silence for a while, until Grandma asked Susan another question.
“Do you have any plans this morning before you leave for work, or are you just going to hang around here until it’s time to go to the hospital?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking about making an appointment at the hair salon, because I feel like I need a change.”
“What are you planning to do?”
“Maybe a perm or perhaps some highlights,” Susan replied. “I’m tired of my straight brown hair. Anne was the lucky one, born with naturally curly hair,” she added. “She can just wash it and go, and it always looks good.”
“You know me—I’m kind of old-fashioned about the idea of changing your looks on purpose,” Grandma said, patting Susan’s arm affectionately. “God made us all unique. I think your hair is beautiful, and it turns under so nicely when you style it.” She smiled tenderly as she touched the ends of Susan’s hair. “Your hair reminds me of how I used to wear mine when I was younger, before it started turning gray.”
“I hope I’m as lucky as you, Grandma, when my hair turns gray.” Susan smiled. “Some people are just blessed to have gorgeous gray hair, and you are definitely one of them.”
“You’re right about that,” Grandpa agreed. “In fact, my wife is as beautiful now as the day we got married.” He leaned over and kissed Grandma’s cheek.
I’ve always hoped that someday someone will look tenderly at me, the way Grandpa and Grandma do with each other,
Susan thought.
Their deep commitment to each other and the abiding love they share are so rare. To have a relationship like that is really special. But if I don’t meet someone soon, I guess that’s not likely to happen.
Grandpa bumped Susan’s arm gently with his elbow, pulling her thoughts aside. “If there should be any change in Eddie’s condition today, when you get home tonight, be sure to let us know, okay?”
Susan nodded. She wasn’t the only person who’d been praying for Eddie, and she hoped that God would answer their prayers soon.
As if in some faraway fog, the man thought he heard voices. What were the people saying? Were they speaking to him?
He struggled to open his eyes but couldn’t manage to pry them open. It felt as though something heavy rested on top of his head.
Where am I? Who am I? Why can’t I wake up? Am I dreaming? Could I be dead?
He tried once more to open his eyes, but it was in vain.
I hurt everywhere, and I’m scared. Why won’t someone tell me what’s causing this pain? Will somebody please tell me my name?
The more the man fought to climb to the surface, the more the pain seemed to engulf him. It was like his body was sending out a warning, and the pain was telling him to stay right where he was, oblivious to everything else. Thinking was exhausting, and it made him hurt even more, yet he yearned for something—anything that was familiar. But it just wouldn’t come.
As he fell back into his safe little cocoon, the pain seemed to go someplace else, and it was easy not to struggle anymore. He felt safe, insulated and protected in this little shell where he didn’t have to think about anything at all. Slowly, as he gave up trying to figure out answers, the pain ebbed into some faraway place.
CHAPTER 8
Bird-in-Hand
M eredith put the mop away in the utility room and stopped to rub a sore spot on her lower back. She’d been home from Sadie and Elam’s for nearly a week and had been working hard from the time she got up until she went to bed each night. She’d convinced herself that she
“Back to the Valentine’s banquet,” Grandpa said, wiggling his bushy eyebrows, “you just never know who you might meet there. Could be the man of your dreams.”
Susan brushed the idea aside. “I doubt that would happen. Besides, I know all the single men at our church, and none of them interests me in the least.”
The three of them sat in silence for a while, until Grandma asked Susan another question.
“Do you have any plans this morning before you leave for work, or are you just going to hang around here until it’s time to go to the hospital?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking about making an appointment at the hair salon, because I feel like I need a change.”
“What are you planning to do?”
“Maybe a perm or perhaps some highlights,” Susan replied. “I’m tired of my straight brown hair. Anne was the lucky one, born with naturally curly hair,” she added. “She can just wash it and go, and it always looks good.”
“You know me—I’m kind of old-fashioned about the idea of changing your looks on purpose,” Grandma said, patting Susan’s arm affectionately. “God made us all unique. I think your hair is beautiful, and it turns under so nicely when you style it.” She smiled tenderly as she touched the ends of Susan’s hair. “Your hair reminds me of how I used to wear mine when I was younger, before it started turning gray.”
“I hope I’m as lucky as you, Grandma, when my hair turns gray.” Susan smiled. “Some people are just blessed to have gorgeous gray hair, and you are definitely one of them.”
“You’re right about that,” Grandpa agreed. “In fact, my wife is as beautiful now as the day we got married.” He leaned over and kissed Grandma’s cheek.
I’ve always hoped that someday someone will look tenderly at me, the way Grandpa and Grandma do with each other,
Susan thought.
Their deep commitment to each other and the abiding love they share are so rare. To have a relationship like that is really special. But if I don’t meet someone soon, I guess that’s not likely to happen.
Grandpa bumped Susan’s arm gently with his elbow, pulling her thoughts aside. “If there should be any change in Eddie’s condition today, when you get home tonight, be sure to let us know, okay?”
Susan nodded. She wasn’t the only person who’d been praying for Eddie, and she hoped that God would answer their prayers soon.
As if in some faraway fog, the man thought he heard voices. What were the people saying? Were they speaking to him?
He struggled to open his eyes but couldn’t manage to pry them open. It felt as though something heavy rested on top of his head.
Where am I? Who am I? Why can’t I wake up? Am I dreaming? Could I be dead?
He tried once more to open his eyes, but it was in vain.
I hurt everywhere, and I’m scared. Why won’t someone tell me what’s causing this pain? Will somebody please tell me my name?
The more the man fought to climb to the surface, the more the pain seemed to engulf him. It was like his body was sending out a warning, and the pain was telling him to stay right where he was, oblivious to everything else. Thinking was exhausting, and it made him hurt even more, yet he yearned for something—anything that was familiar. But it just wouldn’t come.
As he fell back into his safe little cocoon, the pain seemed to go someplace else, and it was easy not to struggle anymore. He felt safe, insulated and protected in this little shell where he didn’t have to think about anything at all. Slowly, as he gave up trying to figure out answers, the pain ebbed into some faraway place.
CHAPTER 8
Bird-in-Hand
M eredith put the mop away in the utility room and stopped to rub a sore spot on her lower back. She’d been home from Sadie and Elam’s for nearly a week and had been working hard from the time she got up until she went to bed each night. She’d convinced herself that she
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