Winter of Grace by Kate Constable

absorbed. By the end I was singing along with everyone else. But when Stella glared at me I stopped, even though we were more conspicuous standing there in silence than joining in.
    At last, Pastor Matt, Jay and Elliot’s dad, stood up to speak. He had a wonderful voice, deep and ringing and utterly sincere. He was quite handsome for an old guy; you could see where Jay and Elliot got it from. And he made jokes, too.
    I don’t know what I’d been expecting him to talk about – sin and damnation and hellfire, maybe, not that I had a clear idea what any of those things were. But instead he talked about love. He talked about saving the world through love. He talked about how God is our loving father, and how He sent His son Jesus to be our friend, the best friend we could ever have, a friend who would never desert us. A friend who brought a message of love to save the world, a message that could come alive in us, every moment of every day. And finally He reminded us that we could help contribute to the work of Jesus, by cash or cheque or credit card, and we’d find envelopes under our seats.
    There was thunderous applause, then more singing and clapping. Other people were groping under their seats, and in a daze, I did the same. I slipped a five-dollar note into the envelope and held it out to Stella, but she frowned and shook her head. A man came along and collected the envelopes, and whispered, ‘May the blessing of the Lord be on your head,’ and he smiled so warmly I felt a bit of a fraud. I mean, it was only five dollars. But I guess even five dollars multiplied by every person in that church was a fair amount of money – and I saw one old lady put in a hundred.
    Afterwards we hung around outside in the winter sunshine, waiting for Jay. I kept half an eye out for Elliot too, just casually, but I didn’t see him. Stella had her arms folded. At last Jay wriggled through the crowd and rushed up to us, beaming. ‘So, what did you think?’
    He was asking me. I saw Stella’s face close up.
    â€˜Your dad’s a great speaker,’ I said.
    â€˜Amazing,’ said Stella, just on the line between sarcastic and sincere.
    â€˜You should really come to youth group,’ said Jay, still looking at me. ‘It’s cool, you’d love it. Wednesday nights, seven till nine.’
    Stella said, ‘I can’t. Not Wednesdays.’
    â€˜I don’t know …’ I said awkwardly, ‘This week we’re having a debate about the war,’ said Jay, as if he knew that would hook me in. He barely even glanced at Stella. It was the first time a boy had ever shown more interest in me than her. It felt all wrong, but at the same time, not unpleasant.
    Jay laid his hand on my arm and said in a low voice, ‘I’d really like you to come.’
    I swallowed. ‘I’ll … I’ll think about it.’
    Stella said firmly, ‘We have to go now. My nana’s coming for lunch, we’ll be late. Come on, Bridie.’
    â€˜Call me!’ Jay yelled after us.
    As we waited on the station platform, Stella said abruptly, ‘You won’t go back, will you?’
    â€˜I don’t know. It wasn’t what I expected. They all seemed really nice. It was … interesting.’
    â€˜You think?’ Stella snorted. ‘Well, I’m not coming, that’s for sure. Sheesh. I just don’t get it.’
    â€˜Get what?’
    â€˜I just can’t believe in all that. To me, it’s the same as saying, let’s all believe in Greek myths, let’s believe in Gods and Goddesses living in the clouds and throwing down thunderbolts. We don’t believe in that stuff anymore, so how can you believe there’s an old man called God up there somewhere, looking down at us? And he had a son called Jesus who died, then came back to life? Where’s the evidence , people? It’s the tooth fairy, it’s the Easter