Short Stories

Celia

by Anne O'Donnell
07/25/23
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Friday May 20, 2005

The bell rang at 3:15 and fourteen of the fifteen juniors vanished from the classroom, everyone but Celia. Mrs. Velotta stalled for time as her last student remained in her seat, head down, and showing no signs of exiting the room. She called over to Celia, “Celia, you are dismissed now and free to leave.” No response. “Is there anything I can assist you with?” No response. Another couple minutes passed, and Celia swerved around in her seat, gathered her books, and shuffled to the door. “Good night Celia,” Mrs. Velotta said, “I hope you have a nice weekend,” knowing full well her shy student hadn’t settled in to her new surroundings since changing cities and homes.

Celia sat wishing she could enjoy picking at the last of the chips and dip. She’d grab a coke when she could find one, but lately food was scarce. Toby, or Mr. Hafner, as everyone called him, never stocked the fridge with anything worthwhile, and Celia longed to savor a medium well done burger or a piece of watermelon. Even a glass of lemonade would be a treat. She’d sit on the metal stool next to the counter and dream of the day when she would have enough money to shop for pretty clothes and have the luxury of sitting with the other girls in the lunchroom. But she was too embarrassed to be seen with a lunch bag containing saltine crackers and a chunk of week old pepperoni or a can of SpaghettiOs. Toby spent most of his days and evenings doing who knows what, but of one thing she was certain, he did not care about her well-being.

Toby felt all puffed up he was doing her a favor by offering her a place in his apartment since her mama had left town when she couldn’t cope with her sickness. His cousin’s responsibility of working two jobs as a single mother on a low budget raising a teen age daughter proved to be too much, and her weak state of mind plunged her into a state of depression that drove her to a final state of despair. One day Celia came home and her mother was gone.

Friday May 20 evening

She struggled to believe that her life held any worth, based on the way everyone conveniently ignored her. Even the neighbors kept their distance, and she never knew why. It’s still ok to dream, Celia encouraged herself. And for the first time, she realized her fate was in her hands and reached out for help.

Saturday May 21 morning

Mara flipped open her ledger and reviewed the names of the registered teachers scheduled to attend the conference on June 2^nd once school let out for the summer. She had organized an evening to further the plans of the new pilot program aimed at tutoring the young people in South Havel who could use some extra TLC in their lives. The teachers would become the voice of love and acceptance they craved.

“Miss Noce?” came a pleasant friendly voice from the doorway. “We just received this email and it looks like it’s something you’ll want to read soon. Sorry to interrupt you, but it might be a connection to the recent findings at the Clarion Street projects. Sounds like another victim of neglect.”     

“Oh hi Estelle, thanks for the heads up,” Mara replied while pivoting around to face her closet colleague. “I’ll review it before I leave. I haven’t heard back from all the invites yet - I’m hoping they’ll cover the pertinent topics we discussed in our last meeting to get this city outreach ministry up and running. How is your itinerary coming along? Anything I can help you with?”

Estelle stepped inside the spacious office, set up with comfortable chairs, plush rugs, fresh flowers, and peaceful music. Mara had a gift of hospitality and practiced simple methods to create an inviting environment for all those who entered her space – parents, teachers, retired staff members, and most of all, the students who, without realizing it, were in need of a smile or a simple pat on the back.

Estelle met Mara years prior when the two women were seated across from each other at a youth training seminar and were paired up as partners for two days of hands-on role playing targeted at drawing out meaningful conversation with those whom they encountered. They bonded instantly and spent their free time dining out, watching movies on the weekends, and plotting new strategies for reaching the hurting and broken in the surrounding neighborhoods. Their brain-storming paid off, and here they were today, preparing to co-host and launch the largest program for struggling youth the city of South Havel had ever introduced.

Without delay, Estelle delved into a section of her presentation that occupied her thoughts the most – helping kids find emotional stability. She knew from her own past research and experience the role relationships and balanced hormones played in a person’s overall health and was determined to educate the youth on how to make good choices that would increase their chance of feeling worthy to be loved. And, more than that, their brains would thank them. The board had voted in favor of allowing this faith based organization to utilize principles and truths found in the Bible, a rare approval considering the city’s past history of government run social services.

Estelle’s goal centered on identifying the root causes of a person’s low self-esteem, and how those closest them are often the source of rejection, humiliation, or depression.

None of her peers in the professional realm ever broached the topic of how to establish good mental health by bringing God into the picture, no, they were more concerned with behavior modification approaches, ones that Estelle gave little credit to, but tolerated the logic behind the minimal benefits they offered a person if that’s all a person could acquire. I can’t settle for the small stuff, she affirmed to herself, my life testimony is based on understanding biblical counsel and making better life decisions that not only kept me out of the hospital, but also kept me from wanting to end my life.

“Now that you ask,” Estelle replied, “I’m spending the bulk of my allotted minutes expounding on the impact life style choices can make on a person’s desire to achieve a positive self-identity, regardless of how much they have been ignored or put down. I feel most kids have never been told the how to attain inner peace. They have never been given the building blocks. I want our participants to be fully educated on the relationship between healthy choices and a healthy mind. Mind, soul, and spirit all overlap, and when one hurts, they all hurt. When one gets mended, the others will follow along.

I plan on opening up my presentation with real life stories of why this is so critical, and the long term consequences that can occur when this huge area of their lives gets ignored. I have three individuals lined up so far who are willing to share their experience with mental health issues, and how taking a holistic approach, along with a biblical approach, pulled them out of their despondency. I realize that little can be accomplished in the small windows of time we’ll have every week, but I want kids to be aware that they have options. If I don’t offer them this lifeline, I’ll carry a disappointment in myself for a long time.”

Mara kept quiet as she mulled over the extent to which her friend wanted the assurance that her findings would make perfect sense to the teacher volunteers who would be the ones encouraging the students who visited the center. Mayor Klune had all but signed off the contract allowing Rise Up Ministry Center to open as the new location for reaching the community, and if the conference was successful, subsequent workshops could be placed on the city’s calendar for all to see.

Mara knew Estelle needed to depend on the volunteer’s willingness to offer relevant topics that would help advance her strategy to encourage the guests’ understanding of a more positive way to live. All one had to do was to step out onto the streets and strike up conversations with whomever they encountered. The organized workshops would boost the individual’s understanding of how to navigate through a world filled with delusions, lies, brokenness, and unmet expectations. Somehow they all tied together and if each teacher could uncover their importance, the information could impact a student’s desire to become a better version of themselves.

Caitlyn broke off a section of orange and glanced over at Celia. Looking down at her lunch, so affectionately packed by her mom, she felt inquisitive to know more about why Celia appeared so downcast, and what caused her to feel so sad all the time. She’d never seen her smile, not ever, not once. She sat two seats over in history class - maybe she’d muster up enough courage to say hi next time they passed each other. Too bad if the other girls scoffed or teased her about it.

Saturday May 21 late morning

Mara read the email a couple of times, trying to decipher what exactly the anonymous sender wished to communicate. Judging by the content, she assumed the person was a “she” because of her mention of “the other girls” in the classroom, and the numerous references to a “he” who didn’t have the first clue how to take care of her needs. The flavor of the message had feminine overtones to it, and she printed another copy to take to the school superintendent. In the meantime, Mara composed a warm letter to the recipient, profusely thanking “her” for taking the time to reach out, and yes, she would be very interested to meet at a convenient time. She wrote down her phone number and the address to her office, emphasizing that she would make herself available at any hour of the day or night.

Mara had seen cases like this, where young people were hanging by a limb, and needed to know if there was a solid foundation close by to fall on. Mara prayed her new contact would embrace the opportunity to meet in person. Dear Lord, you see your precious child and their surrounding circumstances. Let today be the beginning of something new, and let me hear your voice when I speak into their life, amen.

Saturday May 21 afternoon

Celia returned home after a short walk through the park and much to her shock and surprise, found Toby reclining in front of the TV, beer in hand and avoiding her entrance into the room. “Hey cousin, how are you?” Celia managed to push out the difficult words. Did she care how he was? What else was there to say? Toby turned his head and nodded, and returned to the noise permeating from the boxing match in front of him.

Moments later he spoke up, “Hey listen Celia, I noticed the place could use some picking up. Care to spif it up a bit? And the rent is going up next month.” Celia returned a blank stare over her shoulder. What might he be implying, that she help pay the rent, or that she consider another place to live? Celia never felt her presence toppled his budget, except for her rare requests for some food in the fridge. Why should she have to make an announcement that she was hungry all the time? Too many times Toby had conveniently turned a blind eye, but even so, Celia did appreciate the times he brought home a bag of potatoes or some Tex-Mex mixes from the local food pantry.

Debating on whether to broach the topic, Celia gingerly pivoted to face him, and asked, “Is it ok if I stay here? I’m sorry if I have been a burden.” Toby chuckled and said, “Nah, you just keep the place up and you’ll be good.”

Saturday May 21 afternoon

Celia sauntered over to the computer. Toby did say it was ok to log in to the school’s website to complete her assignments. Yesterday morning before leaving for school, she had created a private email address, in hopes of locating a person or a social service that offered free consultation to students in her district. En-Hakkore had popped up on the screen, and having no comprehension of who or what they were, she took a leap of faith and wrote to Mara Noce - Advocate For a Better Life.

Saturday May 21 afternoon

Celia logged in to her email, anxious for Toby to keep quiet and mind his own business. There was a reply from En-Hakkore, inviting her to set up a meeting time at the attached address at her convenience. She was relieved to see that the location was a good twenty minute walk from school, and wrote back asking if Monday at 3:45 was a good time to come in.

Saturday May 21 evening

Later that night, and feeling anxious about her new endeavor to change some things around, she teared up from an email message from Mara, stating how happy she was to have the opportunity to spend time together. No one had ever spoken these words to Celia, and she felt a ray of hope perhaps for the first time in years.

Monday May 23 after school

Celia walked in to Mara’s office on Monday after school unsure of how to conduct herself. Mara greeted her with a smile and covered Celia’s hand with both of hers. “Welcome Celia, thank you for contacting me, I’m happy to help in any way I can. Please, have a seat.”

For the next hour and a half, Celia unloaded her life story of how she was raised, the eleven times they moved, the absence of her father, her mother’s suicide, and now living with Toby. The ache and hopelessness in her heart overwhelmed her, yet Mara looked on with tender eyes and a soothing voice, reassuring her not to fear, that God was orchestrating her future, and today was a new beginning.

Mara inquired about Toby - would he consider coming with her to another meeting next so they could get acquainted? She thought it was important for him to know someone was on his side, ready to offer support and encouragement without condescending him to point he’d refuse to ever come back. If Toby became aware of how his relationship with Celia impacted her ability to overcome the loss of her mother, maybe Toby would show a soft side, if he had one, and find a reason to engage in more conversations. It was worth a try. With the Rise Up Ministry Center opening up soon, the meeting would provide an excellent opportunity to inform Toby of the friendships and services afforded to the community.

Estelle completed her outline, confirmed the stories her three guests would present, and reviewed the Scriptures she hoped to include. These kids must hear about their Good Shepherd, Estelle affirmed, and asked God to weave that truth throughout her talk. The last five minutes would allow for a question and answer period.

Caitlyn waited to spot Celia on her way in to second period history class. Her goal was to say hello, smile, and make eye contact. Why did this mission of acknowledging a classmate seem so monumental? My goodness, I don’t know anything about her. What if I walked around sad all the time? Maybe she’d agree to sit together at lunch and chat.

Saturday May 28 morning

Toby sauntered into Mara’s office giving off the air as if this idea ignited pure boredom, and go on, say what you need to say, and get it over with. “Welcome, Mr. Hafner,” she offered, “and please make yourself comfortable.” Mara was quick to offer her guests fresh squeezed sweetened tea with lemon and almond cookies, while spilling out the reasons why this outreach ministry existed, and her goal of extending hope to all who passed through the doors at Rise Up Ministries.

Without breaking confidentiality, she asked Toby if he was mindful of how Celia’s loss felt like carrying a lead weight around her heart everyday of her life. And if their living arrangements were short term or long term? And did he think a woman like Celia had a better future than trying to exist with depression? And what were his thoughts on what might encourage her to pursue her own dreams for a future without her mother’s love?

Toby waved his hand in a gesture of dismissal, but Mara caught his eye and point blank said, “Toby, by agreeing to provide housing for Celia, you inadvertently agreed to become her covering. Does that makes sense to you? You have a girl here who is depending you. Who cares about what you think of her. Who craves a friendship with you - one that includes more than a snort every now and then when one of you walks in the door.”

“Now you just hold on lady,” Toby cut in. “What exactly are you tryin’ to get at? She’s family and she knows it. Last I checked, bread filled a man’s stomach, and a warm bed and a roof over his head was something to be thankful for.”

Mara leaned back in her chair, “That is all good and true, but she is not a man. She is a young woman who needs to be respected as such. Now let’s try to agree on one thing. Can you support her attempts to feel at peace within herself considering the obstacles she has to work with? Because if you say yes, you are committing to engage in a meaningful family relationship. It is through relationships, Toby, that make or break a person’s spirit. Broken connections cause the mind to become confused, alienated, and spiral a person to a depth they never knew existed. Perhaps the depression is what brought her mother to her final resting place.”

Stillness blanketed the room. Celia found the courage to speak up. “Cousin Toby, I appreciate what you’ve done for me. Without you, I’m afraid to guess where I may have ended up. But I’m frightened I might end up like my mother. I can’t continue to survive in this vacuum of emptiness.

She repositioned herself in the chair and asked him, “Could I have your permission to register for Miss Mara’s classes at the ministry center coming up next month? They are free, and I would like you to come with me.”

Thursday June 2 morning

Thursday, June 2, at eleven o’clock sharp, Mara walk up on the stage with her opening comments to the eighteen teachers who sat eager to begin the day with speakers, power point presentations, a history of South Havel and it’s youth and young adult population, drug related statistics, and homelessness, as well as the true reason they all gathered – to avail themselves time to seek the Lord and to trust Him for the future of the young lives they would influence.

Saturday June 11 morning

Keeping right on track, Mayor Klune took delight in addressing a crowd that gathered on an empty field in close proximity to the Clarion Street projects. He encouraged the city residents to get serious about the future of their children, and to take advantage of the services the new outreach ministry would make available.

Children in bare feet meandered through the grass behind the benches, while a few moms with babies listened intently as plans for the ministry center was explained in detail. One father felt moved to tears, remembering his vow to his son to do anything humanly possible to help him get delivered from drugs and alcohol. He lost his son last year. Toby sat in his car out of view, paranoid that if he was spotted, Mara might single him out and badger him with questions.

Saturday July 9 morning

On July 9, 2005, Rise Up Ministry Center opened its doors to the community. Classes were scheduled three nights every week until school resumed, and already, the classes were full. Estelle went over the names on her roster and anticipated meeting each visitor with enthusiasm and a promise to walk alongside them as they prepared to grow in knowledge and apply basic principles for healthy living.

Saturday July 9

Caitlyn and Celia entered the classroom designated for the “Healthy Body - Healthy Mind” workshop. Estelle introduced herself as the speaker, and began by sharing her experience as a young girl who fought debilitating periods of deep depression and what she believed caused it. She recalled the dark days spent alone while her father took liberties against her will, and left her emotionally and mentally paralyzed. Holding up her Bible, she proceeded to recite specific verses as they related to her circumstances and how God replaced her anguish with an abiding peace, acceptance, and assurance that she belonged to her heavenly Father now. She encouraged the guests to take a copy of the presentation when they left.

The three speakers took turns sharing their traumatic experiences, and when they finished, Celia noticed they all included a similar theme: an irreplaceable or irreparable relationship with a parent or other adult guardian. Something broke inside each one, including herself.

She waited until the room emptied out and approached Estelle. “Thank you for what you shared. I never knew how loss could devastate a person so deeply. And when you were describing how an imbalance in hormones contribute to depression, I wanted to ask you about that. I am nervous to ask my cousin if I can see a doctor. I know that my depression could be genetic, and I’m scared to talk to my cousin about that too. He hates that kind of talk, and will probably say it’s all in my head and to not worry about it.”

Estelle took her shoulder and said, “Dear, I’m happy to help, and I would suggest Toby joins us for a conversation. I will personally call and invite him.”

“Thanks,” Celia smiled, “and I do have one more question. What is En-Hakkore?”

Estelle walked over to her Bible and opened to the book of Judges. “Celia, let me share a fascinating story that will give you some insight. Samson, who is a Bible character from the Old Testament, was a strong man yet finds himself in a dilemma that only God can get him out of. God had called him to singlehandedly take down his enemy soldiers, which he did, and the battle leaves Samson feeling weak and thirsty. Samson reminds God of the wilderness he finds himself in - worn out with battle fatigue and little faith to trust God for the next step. So what does God do for Samson? He creates a spring of water coming out of a rock and calling it En-Hakkore. Caller’s Spring.

There was never water there before, but now, because of Samson’s desperation and God’s mercy, others walking in that same craggy place will find a spring of water.

Mara and I felt like God was telling us to be a Caller. If we will call, He will bring springs of water out of hollow places. Places that were empty before. Not just so that our thirst can be quenched, but for the many who will find themselves in the rocks after a long battle can drink, feel their strength return, and be revived.

Celia, when Mara and I speak to an individual, all we are really doing is holding on to someone and calling out to God for His intervention. It requires us to call out to Him in faith. Does that make sense?

The one lesson to take away from this story is that God always has your success in mind, never your failures. The Bible story concludes by saying the rock is still there. Are you able to draw the connection?”

Celia was speechless. “I never knew that. That sounds so powerful. I wonder if anything good will happen to me.”

Let’s set up that meeting with Toby and ask for his blessing on this new season of your life. I believe he has a place tucked away in his heart for you, but doesn’t know how to express it. Let’s team up and help him, Celia, what do you say? And maybe, just maybe, he will discover a hope he never knew existed!”

Authored by Anne O’Donnell

The story explaining En-Hakkore authored by Charlene Foster