Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: Love and Grace (09/11/14)
- TITLE: Tuesday's Child
By Lillian Rhoades
LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE
SEND A PRIVATE COMMENT
ADD TO MY FAVORITES
Her alarm might as well have kept on snoozing, because she was up well ahead of its appointed time to sound off.
On this day of the week, one could easily accuse her of being an ant on pep pills, as she hustled about deciding what to wear and what to bring. The one thing she couldn’t do on the morning of her favorite day was to whistle while she brushed her teeth. Somehow the whistle sound turned into a swish…swish…swish, until she reached the wisdom tooth. And then it became anatomically impossible to do anything but brush, if each tooth was to have a chance for equal opportunity plaque removal.
She hadn’t conquered that trick, but she had mastered the art of the hop, skip, and leap from bedroom to kitchen, from coffee pot to toaster. Today, she didn’t miss a step. Today was Tuesday–her day to spend time at Hathaway Hill where Johnny and his buddies lived their lives - in-waiting.
Grace made the last bend in the road that brought Hathaway Hill into full view. The nineteenth century majestic Victorian glistened in the glow of early morning. Her lips gave voice to her heart.
“Rest in peace, H.H. I hope your mansion is as beautiful as this haven on the hilltop”
Hathaway Hill was built at the turn of the twentieth century by Henry Hathaway, fondly known as the “bleeding heart philanthropist.” On the Registry of Historic Homes, the real treasure–the one that meant the most to Henry Hathaway and to her could be found inside the twenty bedroom country castle.
As she took giant steps toward the front door to the orphanage that had transformed one section into a home for abandoned children with AIDS,she smiled at the thought of continuing his dream.
“Good Morning, Grace. I can always set my watch by you.”
With a full wave of arm and hand, Grace returned the greeting.
“Good Morning, Charlie. When are you going to get that watch?”
Charlie’s laugh was more like a low level growl.
“Any day, now, any day.”
The room that always set her heart aflutter was just to the right of the huge, grand entry vestibule. Johnny and his friends always seem to know she was coming long before she opened the door.
Was it the sound of her footsteps?
As she neared the dark, mahogany pocket doors, they began to move, inch by inch until there was just enough room for her to slide in sideways. Lightning could not have moved as fast as five pairs of crushing arms almost dragged her to the floor.
“Miss Gracie, Miss Gracie, Miss Gracie!” No one let go until she had given each of them her special bear hug.
But where was Johnny?
From the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of a bed in the far corner of the room with a small body under the covers.
That’s Johnny’s bed! Her astonished gaze had not gone unnoticed.
“Johnny’s sick, Miss Gracie, real sick,” the children repeated in unison.
One of the House Mothers, who had heard what the children said, quickly moved to where Grace stood. Grace took several steps towards her, and then hesitated at the look on Florence’s face.
“Johnny’s been asking for you, Grace. We waited until you came before transporting him to the hospital. I’m afraid his AIDS is no longer responding to treatment.”
Outside the sun continued to spread across the rolling hills. The trees never stopped swaying in the breeze, their shadow falling on the partially opened shades, and a staff member just outside the pocket doors whistled on their way to somewhere.
But Johnny was dying!
Grace raced over to Johnny’s bed.
He slowly opened his eyes while a tear fell from hers.
“I’m here, Johnny. Miss Gracie is here.”
She held Johnny’s hand in the ambulance, daily bathed his jaundiced body, and sang his favorite songs to him, even when she thought he couldn’t hear her.
On day four, just after she had finished bathing him, Johnny opened his eyes and raised his right hand.
Back at Hathaway Hill, that could only mean one thing. Miss Gracie may I say something.
She leaned towards him.
“Miss Gracie loves me, just like Jesus.”
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
Accept Jesus as Your Lord and Savior Right Now - CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.