The Lord your God is with you,
the Mighty Warrior who saves.
He will take great delight in you;
in his love he will no longer rebuke you,
but will rejoice over you with singing.
Zephaniah 3:17 (NIV)
Operation Redeemed Warrior
The Evergrace Ranch & Resort
Evergrace, Texas
Monday, December 12, 2016
As instructed in the letter that he had received from Operation Redeemed Warrior, Justice arrived promptly at nine o’clock at the Evergrace airfield, where he stood with nine other men, one holding a white stick with a red tip and one sitting in a wheelchair, waiting in front of a gigantic red, white, and blue passenger helicopter.
Suddenly, the helicopter door opened, and two large commanding men dressed in navy blue shirts and khaki pants, one man dark-brown with light-brown eyes and the other one ivory-white with blue eyes, stepped down onto the airfield, both of them smiling.
“Hello, guys,” the dark-brown man said. “Thank you for being here. My name is Warrior Wynne, and I, along with my twin brother, Steele, will be hosting this class of Operation Redeemed Warrior.
“All of us here are US veterans. My brother and I were in the Marine Corps, part of the K-9 unit, and our specialty outside of the military is training, boarding, rescuing, and handling dogs so they can become service animals or emotional support animals.
“My organization, Paws4Warriors, includes a prison ministry, in which incarcerated veterans train dogs to become service animals for civilian veterans, and my brother Steele’s organization, Hearts&Paws, mainly offers emotional support animals for civilians in hospitals, nursing homes, rehabilitation centers, and the community.
“For Operation Redeemed Warrior, though, my brother and I have partnered so we can meet not only the physical needs of military veterans but the emotional, psychological, and spiritual needs as well.
“During this entire week, you’ll be paired with a service animal or emotional support animal, and you’ll also have the opportunity to get counseling, go on adventures, complete some missions, bond with your brothers, draw closer to God, and find the peace and closure you’ve been seeking.
“This is our fourth year of Operation Redeemed Warrior, which is a faith-based organization, and so far, our team has had a 100 percent success rate, and we don’t intend to stop that trend with this class of veterans.
“As I mentioned, in addition to Operation Redeemed Warrior, we have boarding, dog-training, search-and-rescue, working dog, and therapy dog businesses, as well as service animal and prison ministry, in which incarcerated military veterans are taught how to train rescued, retired, and repurposed dogs how to be service, emotional, and therapy animals for others, including military veterans, just like you.
“Here, we have a variety of dogs for a variety of reasons. There are therapy dogs that are not classified as service animal dogs. There are emotional therapy animals. There are guide dogs, hearing dogs, seizure dogs, mobility assistance dogs, psychiatric service dogs, and work dogs.
“Here at Operation Redeemed Warrior, our goal is twofold: to save the lives of both veterans and rescued dogs. So, we’ll be pairing you with a canine companion, which you will partner with and train with for the duration of your time with us. If all goes well, you and your canine service animal or emotional support animal should graduate with flying colors, working as one, but, more importantly, you should leave us healed, redeemed, refreshed, restored, and transformed.” He motioned toward the helicopter. “Now, if you would, please board the helicopter, and we’ll head to the drop zone.”
Following Warrior’s instructions, Justice boarded the helicopter, then sat down and strapped himself into a seat in a row of five men across from five other men, including the brown man in the wheelchair.
One of the men beside Justice tapped his arm, layers of dark-brown hair slanted across his forehead, his light-brown eyes bright. “I’m Julius Katzenberg, but friends call me Juls.”
“Hello, Juls. I’m Justice.”
“What branch of service were you in?”
“The Marine Corps.”
“Aren’t you special?” Julius grinned good-naturedly. “I was in the Navy—the SEALS—and completed two tours of duty before getting discharged. Honorably, of course.”
Justice smiled, instantly liking the guy. “Of course.”
The Hispanic man on the other side of Justice reached out an olive-tan hand, and Justice immediately saw jagged scars on his wrist. “Giancarlos Horabuena. I spent ten years in transport in the Marine Corps.”
Justice firmly shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Giancarlos.”
“You too.” Giancarlos pulled back his hand.
Then, the others began introducing themselves.
The blind Middle-Eastern man was Saleem Asad, and he had been an engineer in the Air Force before an explosion had blasted shrapnel into his eyes, effectively ending his military service and robbing him of his eyesight.
The dark-haired, blue-eyed man sitting across from Justice introduced himself as Judah Goodwin, an Israeli-American and former telecommunications specialist in the Navy.
The guy beside Judah was slender and light brown, and he introduced himself as Braheam Kingsley, an Army parachute jumper.
Next, there was the tall, dark-brown, and dark-eyed man who introduced himself as Samir Washington, an Air Force military police officer.
After him, there was Giavanni Catuccio, a brown-eyed and brown-haired US Army sniper.
Finally, there was the dark-haired, gray-eyed August Gray, a coast guard flight paramedic.
Soon, the helicopter landed on the spacious grounds of The Evergrace Ranch & Resort, where Justice and the others stepped down and were immediately introduced to other members of the Operation Redeemed Warrior family.
Besides Warrior and Steele Wynne, there was Royal Ransom, who introduced himself as a former military medic and chaplain; Justice’s twin brother, Jacson, a dog trainer, therapist, and handler; Blest Worthing, a psychologist; Chef Colby, their resident five-star chef; Jamarrio Cox, the events coordinator; Sean Challot, a veterinarian; Chace Cohen, a retired US Secret Service agent and dog handler; London Evergrace, a missionary medic; Price Heaventon, retired Air Force aviator and their private pilot; and Elissandro Evergrace, minister, entrepreneur, and former Air Force aviator.
After the introductions ended, dog handlers brought the dogs out and stood next to them in front of Justice and the others, and the veterans were told to walk the line, getting familiar with each animal, because they would be paired and bound to one of these dogs, preferably for the dog’s life span, which could be between ten to fifteen years.
As far as Justice could tell, all of the dogs were impressive. Included were Maverick, a German shepherd; Dove, a Samoyed; Rebel, a border collie; Baron, a Bernese mountain dog; Ranger, a Jack Russell terrier; Reina, a golden retriever; Contessa, a Labradoodle; Spirit, a Labrador retriever; Rico, a beagle; and Storm, a Belgian Malinois.
From the onset, Justice had his sight on the black Belgian Malinois, Storm, mainly because he learned from the dog handler that Storm was a retired military US Secret Service K-9, charged with protecting the US president for three years.
As Justice and the other nine men interacted with the dogs, Justice noticed that the staff was observing them. After they had all walked the line with each of the dogs, the dogs were taken away, and the veterans were escorted into the resort to their rooms, which were more spacious and lavish than Justice was accustomed to.
After he entered the suite, Justice found his gear—a backpack and duffel bag—already in the room. For a moment, he just savored the beauty and serenity—the peace and quiet—and he admired the snapshots of nature framed in his suite windows.
On the table, next to a compact Bible and a leather journal, there was an itinerary for his entire stay at the ranch and resort.
After Justice toured his suite, he reported to the conference room, where he was to have his first round-table session with the other nine veterans, and he was suddenly anxious about it. He wasn’t used to sharing his soul or baring his heart, especially with strangers.
When he arrived, he noticed that six of the men at the table had already been paired with a dog that was either at the man’s heels or in the man’s lap. Curious to know which dog they had chosen for him, Justice sat down at the table and looked around. Beside him, Judah Goodwin was absently rubbing his fingers through the white fur of the Samoyed, Dove.
Leaning toward Justice, Judah smiled. “Congratulations! You’ve got the most decorated canine in this class.”
Justice frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“Over there.” Judah tilted his head toward the door where Chace Cohen was entering with the black Belgian Malinois, Storm.
Chace walked directly to Justice, then grinned and handed him the dog’s leash. “Welcome to Operation Redeemed Warrior. May God bless you and your new partner richly and abundantly.” He turned, then walked away, leaving Justice and Storm together.
Enjoying the moment, Justice leaned down and ran his fingers through Storm’s pitch-black fur. “Hello, boy!” he said. “I guess we’re partners—family.”
Storm turned his head and sniffed Justice’s hand, then bobbed his black head as though nodding in agreement.
After the last two men, Julius Katzenberg and Samir Washington, walked in and received their dogs, Blest Worthing, the facilitator for the round-table session, said they would pray first, then go around the table sharing their best memory, then their worst memory.
“I’ll go first.” Holding Rico, the beagle, in his lap, Giancarlos Horabuena described the first time he and his dad had worked together restoring a classic car, taking a heap of metal that amounted to nothing and turning it into a masterpiece—something beautiful and useful.
“My dad was my hero,” Giancarlos said. “He was a veteran, too, and he fought in Vietnam, but he never got much honor or respect for all the years of service. He got no money, no fame, no fortune, no love. But he loved this country and these people anyway—enough to sacrifice himself, again and again.”
Tears gleamed in Giancarlos’ brown eyes. “Every Monday morning that rolled around, my dad would say, ‘Don’t get mad, Son; go MAD—making a difference—and that’s what he did 24/7, every day, every week. He went out and made a difference in the family, in the community, in the world.
“He didn’t wear a cape, but he was still my superhero up until the day he died, about three years ago. My life hasn’t been the same without him.” Rico raised his head and nuzzled Giancarlos’ neck, then he licked Giancarlos’ wet cheek.
“Was that your worst day,” Blest asked. “The day your dad died?”
Giancarlos shook his head. “That was the day I got three people in my platoon ambushed, then killed,” he said dryly. “We were stationed at a compound in Afghanistan, only days from finally coming home, all of us in transport, on a scorching, dusty day in hellish conditions in the desert, with limited visibility too.
“I was the driver, and we were about six miles or ten klicks south of our base when we got caught in enemy crossfire. Next thing I know, we strike an IED—improvised explosive device, or homemade bomb, in the road, and three of my buddies and brothers-in-arms die, but I survive with a broken body and an even more broken spirit.
“I was medically discharged, and as soon as I could lift a bottle, I started drinking—beer, wine, anything alcoholic—and I never really stopped, just so I could drown out the screams, the pain, the nightmares, the bloodshed, and the horrible memories of that day.
“Finally, I hit rock bottom—lost everything, including my family: a wife, three children, a house to live in, and a car to drive. I was a real mess until I met one of those street preachers, with a microphone in his hand and a cross on his back, who was also a military veteran. He led me to this incredible church called Redemption House in Corinth, Texas, where I met this Hispanic preacher named Antonio Bienvenido, who helped me get sober, find a job, and get the essentials, such as food, shelter, clothing, and transportation.
“He’s the one who told me about Operation Redeemed Warrior, and he helped me come here today. I can proudly say I’ve been sober for the past twelve months, and I have no desire to drink any more alcohol but every desire to reconcile with God and my wife and kids.”
“Thank you for your service, your sacrifice, and your story, Giancarlos,” Blest said. “God can certainly turn our mess into messages and our tests into testimonies. Today, we honor and celebrate you, not for all you have, much or little, or for what you’ve done, good or bad, great or small, but for who you are—fearfully and wonderfully made, in the image and likeness of God.”
Blest glanced at the other men sitting around the table. “Please, join me in telling Giancarlos that we love him and that we celebrate him today because his life does matter, and he is worthy of love, honor, praise, and respect.” Blest stood up, then walked over to Giancarlos and hugged him. “I love you, and I celebrate you because your life matters, and you’re worthy of love, honor, praise, and respect.” He smiled, then walked back to his seat and sat down.
Soon, there was a crowd of men around Giancarlos, each of them hugging him and repeating those words of love, honor, celebration, praise, and respect. Some even kissing Giancarlos’ head and wiping the tears freely falling from Giancarlos’ eyes.
Afterward, each man took his turn, sharing one of his best memories, then one of his worst. Second was Julius Katzenberg, paired with Ranger, the Jack Russell terrier; Judah Goodwin, paired with Dove, the Samoyed; Surrinder Suresh, paired with Spirit, the Labrador retriever; Braheam Kingsley, paired with Reina, the golden retriever; Samir Washington, paired with Rebel, the border collie; Saleem Asad, paired with Maverick, the German shepherd; Giovanni Catuccio, paired with Baron, the Bernese mountain dog; and August Gray, paired with Contessa, the Labradoodle.
Finally, Justice raised his hand, and he could feel every eye on him. Storm even put his head on Justice’s leg as though sensing his nervousness. “I’ll go.”
Blest nodded. “Take your time. We’re listening.”
Justice exhaled audibly. “I guess my happiest moment was when my parents, my siblings, and I attended our first Cheerwell Twin Festival. I was about ten years old, the eldest of six other children, and I was best friends with this Japanese-American boy named Kimo, who had a twin sister named Kima. During one of the musical showcase nights set up for the younger kids, we pulled together a band called The KJs. I was chosen to be the piano player since I was quite good at it, able to play anything by ear or sheet music, and I could sing too.
“Anyway, my brother played drums, Kimo played guitar, and his sister, Kima, sang lead vocals while I played piano and sang as well. We were doing well, really. But halfway through our song, this green-eyed eight-year-old girl with an Evergrace guitar strapped across her shoulders stepped on stage like she belonged there and started singing our song and strumming her guitar. Everybody loved her; they even gave her a standing ovation.
“After the performance, she ran over to me, planted a big kiss on my cheek, then whispered in my ear that she liked me, maybe even loved me, and she wanted to marry me when we got older. She just wanted me to wait for her to get older, to grow up. Before I knew it, she ran off stage and disappeared in the crowd.”
He laughed. “What’s ironic is this same girl reappeared in my life, at least two other times, as my dance partner when I was twelve and she was ten and as my singing partner and designated driver during a snowstorm about seventeen years later.”
“Did you have feelings for her?” Blest asked.
“She was my first love,” Justice said. “In every way.”
Blest leaned forward. “And your worst memory?”
Storm nudged Justice’s leg, and Justice rubbed his head. “The day I learned the same men who had killed my eight-year-old sister over twenty years ago had also ambushed and killed my wife of five years in retaliation for me killing one of their grandsons in the line of duty.
“In both cases, people I loved died because of me.” He laced his fingers on the table. “As much as I blamed those guys, I also blamed myself, even God.
“What I hate most is that one of those murderers is still out there, terrorizing and traumatizing people. It’s hard for me to relax or rest, forgive, and move on when that guy hasn’t been brought to justice yet.”
“Maybe you need to turn all of this over to God, Justice. Maybe this isn’t your burden to carry, and maybe you’ll find what you need while you’re here, and you’ll be able to release that anger, guilt, and pain.” Blest stood up, as he had for every other man, and he walked directly to Justice, wrapped his strong arms around him, then said he loved him and celebrated him; he honored, respected, and praised him too.
As the others circled Justice, offering hugs, encouragement, and love, Justice could feel warmth spreading throughout his chest, straight from his heart, and tears were stinging his eyes, threatening to fall as well. After the men sat down, Justice discreetly dried his eyes.
“I’d like to end this session with one of my favorite blessings from the Bible, reciting it over all of you,” Blest said. “It’s the Aaronic Blessing found in Numbers 6:24–26 (NIV), and it says, ‘The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face shine on you and be gracious to you; the Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace.’”
Even as Blest recited the verse, Justice could feel the heavy weight being lifted from his shoulders and cold-hard ice thawing from his heart. Maybe this week wouldn’t be so bad after all; maybe he would find more than new friends; maybe he would finally find himself; maybe he would even find Jesus, God, too.
* * *
The Evergrace Ranch & Resort
Evergrace, Texas
Monday, December 12, 2016
After the round-table session with the veterans, Elissandro pulled Blest aside, then led him to his private suite and offered him a seat on the cushioned sofa. “How did it go?” he asked Blest, sitting down across from him.
“Surprisingly well,” Blest said. “None of the men had a problem with opening up and sharing some of their best and worst memories. Having the dogs there helped.”
“I’m glad.” Elissandro leaned forward, lacing his fingers in his lap. “Do you think Justice Shield is the mystery guy in Freedom’s life? Her kids’ birth father?”
Blest nodded. “I do.”
“So do I,” Elissandro said. “The kids look just like him. I’m surprised J.U. hasn’t already noticed.”
“Justice really needs a breakthrough this week, especially if he’s been sleeping with a gun under his pillow, playing roulette with his life.” Blest pinned Elissandro with hazel eyes. “But now that we know about his relationship to Freedom and the kids, what should we do?”
Elissandro exhaled. “Tread lightly and pray fervently—for him and for her. I don’t know if Justice is ready for an instant family, especially with seven kids, and I know my daughter isn’t ready for his reappearance in her life, even if he is her first love. She’s more like her mother than she cares to admit, especially when it comes to protecting her kids, like a lioness. She’s grown accustomed to being a single mother, and I doubt she’d welcome Justice’s interference.”
Blest rested his arms on his legs. “Do you think she still loves him?”
“I’m sure she does,” Elissandro said. “But she’s stubborn, and she likely won’t admit it, especially if he has any thoughts of claiming the kids for his own. After all, he might blame her because he’s been left in the dark about their existence for the past six years.”
Blest raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to tell Freedom you found her first love, or are you going to remain silent?”
“She’s my daughter, so my first inclination is to tell her the truth. But this week is all about getting to know Justice better and helping him overcome some of the hurdles life has put in front of him. So, I’ll remain silent and seek God’s counsel on how to proceed with both Justice and Freedom.”
“Sounds good to me.” Blest stood to his feet. “I’ve got a meeting with Warrior and Steele in about ten minutes, so I’ve got to go. But keep me updated, please.”
Elissandro stood as well. “Of course I will.” He waved him off. “Till next time.”
“Till next time.” Blest bobbed his head, then walked toward the door, opened it, and walked out, leaving Elissandro alone.
Lord, God Almighty, he thought, You know me to be a man of honor, valor, faith, conviction, and truth. How am I supposed to keep this news away from my daughter? From my grandkids? From J.U.? From Justice too?
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
Elissandro pulled his cell phone from his pants pocket. “Dad?”
“Son.”
Elissandro frowned. Neither of his parents had spoken to him recently, at least not since he had confronted them about Daiana. Not since he had invited Freedom and his grandkids to live with him at Wintergrace. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Edith—your mom.”
Elissandro’s heart thumped his chest. “What happened?”
“She went into cardiac arrest. Now, she’s in hospice, asking to see you, your family too.”
“Are you in Evergrace?”
“Heaventon Hope.”
“Give me the address, and I’ll be there as soon as possible.”
“Thank you,” his dad said. “I’m sorry for how I treated you, Daiana, and your daughter, Freedom, too. I hope it’s not too late for us to reconcile because right now, your mother needs you, and so do I.”
“All is forgiven, Dad.”
“Again, thank you, Son.”
After Elissandro got the address, he sent up a silent prayer. Heavenly Father, watch over my mom and my dad too. Please send healing, comfort, recovery, and reconciliation. Please send perfect peace and give us patience and strength to endure all that we’re about to go through. Please fight for us, even as we hold fast and cling to You. In Jesus’ name, I pray. Amen.
* * *
Everglade Hospice Center
Heaventon Hope, Texas
Monday, December 12, 2016
Lord, I’m one hundred and one years old. I should be in this bed, not my daughter, Sweet Alyce thought as she sat at her daughter’s bedside, holding her light-brown hand. Her husband, Randle, sat at the foot of the bed, holding a large Bible, and her son-in-law, Elec, sat on the other side of Edith, tears streaming down his olive-tan face.
Sweet Alyce’s son, Royce, had phoned earlier, saying that he and his family would be coming shortly, and Elec had phoned his and Edith’s children, Edison, Edmund, and Elianne, including Elissandro and his immediate family.
“Is Elissando here yet?” Edith asked, her light-brown eyes on Sweet Alyce.
Sweet Alyce combed fingers through Edith’s gray hair, just like she used to do when Edith was a young girl. “No, my love. He’s running late.”
Tears gleamed in Edith’s eyes. “I need to see him before it’s too late.”
Sweet Alyce lowered her hand to Edith’s shoulder. “You’ll get to see him. I promise.”
“Thank you, Mama.”
“For what?” she asked.
“Raising Eli well,” Edith said. “Without you, he wouldn’t be the man of God he is today. Without you, he wouldn’t be able to forgive Elec or me.” She brushed tears from her face. “I wasted so much time trying to please other people, trying to protect the family name and the family bloodline, that I forgot what really mattered—love, grace, mercy, Jesus, God. Now, I just hope I have enough time to do what’s right.”
Elec leaned forward, pressing her hand against his chest, his heart. “Of course, you’ll have enough time,” he said. “This is just a setback for us. That’s all.”
Edith turned her head, facing her husband. “We have to be prepared.”
He hugged her, then cried. “I don’t want to lose you.”
Edith kissed his head. “If it’s my time, you’ve got to let me go. You’ve got to be strong for the children, the grandchildren too.”
Elec pulled back, his hand covering Edith’s. “Since we got married, we’ve never been apart—not for any great length of time. Who will I lean on? Depend on? Confide in? How am I supposed to go on to live without you?”
Tears made tracks down Edith’s face. “With Jesus, with God.”
Someone gently rapped on the door.
Sweet Alyce glanced at the door. “Come in.”
The door opened, and then Elissandro stepped inside the room. “I’m here, and I’ve brought my family with me.” He stepped aside, and Freedom entered the room with her four six-year-old boys and three six-year-old girls, all of them dressed in their Sunday best attire: the boys in white button-down shirts and black slacks and the girls in white ruffled dresses, with black ribbon belts, and shiny black dress shoes.
Edith smiled through her tears. “Eli, is that really you?”
Elec stood up and stepped aside, and Elissandro walked closer to his mother. “Yes, Mom.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “How are you doing?”
“Better.” She grabbed his hand, then pressed it against her chest, over her heart. “I’m sorry, Eli. For everything—Daiana, the babies, the lies, the deception, all of it. Can you forgive me?”
Elissandro raised her hand, then kissed it. “Of course, I can. I love you, and that hasn’t changed. I forgive you too.”
Her eyes welled with fresh tears. “Truly, I’m the most blessed mother in the world, Eli, to have a son as good and godly as you.” She glanced toward Freedom and the children standing silently by the door. “Please introduce me properly to your daughter.”
Elissandro ushered Freedom forward to his side. “Mom, this is Freedom Faith Forrester-Evergrace—my daughter and your granddaughter.”
Edith reached out to Freedom. “Come closer, please.”
Freedom edged closer.
“First, I’d like to apologize for how my husband and I treated your mother, Daiana, before you were born,” Edith said. “Second, I’d like to apologize for how badly I treated you after Elissandro claimed you as his daughter. I have no excuses, really, and all I can say now is that I am sincerely sorry, and I pray one day you’ll be able to forgive Elec and me.”
Tears streamed down Freedom’s cheeks. “I’ve always wanted a grandmother,” she said. “Sweet Alyce is the closest I’ve ever come, and I love her beyond measure, and she’s become a second mother to my kids.” She fingered her tears dry, then grabbed Edith’s hand. “I forgive you on behalf of my mom, too, and I would love to spend time with you, getting to know you better.”
Edith nodded, tears in her eyes. “I would love that, too, and thank you for the grace and the mercy you’ve shown us today.”
“Would you like to meet your great-grandchildren?” Freedom asked.
A smile spread across Edith’s mouth. “Of course I would! Bring them here!”
Freedom motioned for the kids to step forward, and they lined up in front of their mother, from the eldest to the youngest in birth order. “Kids, introduce yourselves to your great-grandmother.”
The first, with light-brown skin and sea-blue eyes, stepped forward. “I’m Everson, and I’m six years old, and I’m the oldest too.” He reached out his hand, and Edith shook it.
“Nice to meet you, Everson,” Edith said. “You’ve got a firm grip, and you’ll likely be a great leader one day.”
Next came his identical twin, only he had a smirk on his face. “I’m Eston, and I like going camping, riding my bicycle, and going on adventures too. I’d rather stay outside than be cooped up inside all day.”
“Your granddad was the same,” Edith said. “That’s why he joined the Air Force, so he could fly planes and go on adventures.”
The next boy stepped forward, his hands tucked in his pockets. “I’m Essam, and my mom says I’m the most creative one because I like to draw pictures and write stories and make up music in my head.”
Edith’s light-brown eyes twinkled. “I like being creative, too, and I can’t wait to read one of your stories or see one of your masterpieces.”
Afterward, the fourth child and first girl stepped forward, her hands laced. “I’m Everly, and I like being organized and putting together jigsaw puzzles and going on nature walks. I love animals, all kinds, too, and my dream is to have a houseful one day.”
Edith smiled. “You remind me of my daughter, Elianne,” she said. “She was always bringing stray animals home and nursing them back to health.”
The next girl reached out her hand to shake Edith’s hand. “I’m Echo, and I like to read and write and sing and dance and play the guitar, just like my mom.”
“What kind of music do you like?” Edith asked.
“Songs about Jesus.”
“Those are the best kind.”
The last boy stepped closer. “I’m Given, and my mom says I’m the most gifted one. I like drawing pictures and making music, too, but I really like spending time with Grandpa Randle and Sweet Alyce and learning about Jesus and God, and I like helping other people and making them feel better.”
“That’s a good quality to have—making people feel better,” Edith said. “Nice to meet you, Given.”
Finally, the last child and the last girl stepped forward, holding in her hands a folded piece of white paper. “I’m Gift,” she said. “I love Jesus, and I love God, and I love you, too, even though we’ve just met, because you’re my GeeGee, my great-grandmother.”
Tears gleamed in Edith’s eyes. “I’m your GeeGee, and you love me?”
Gift nodded, then handed Edith the folded white paper. “I made this picture just for you.”
“Thank you.” Edith grabbed the paper, then carefully unfolded it, and cried when she saw that Gift had drawn a picture of a gray-haired woman in a white robe standing and smiling, with seven children gathered around her, holding hands and laughing.
“Do you like it?” Gift asked.
Edith pressed the paper to her chest, over her heart. “I love it. Thank you so much.”
Gift leaned down and hugged Edith and whispered against her ear loud enough for everybody else to hear. “Jesus loves you, GeeGee, and He’s gonna throw you a big party when you finally come home. But He’s waiting for the right time, and that’s not today.”
“How do you know that?” Edith asked.
“I’m a prayer warrior, like Sweet Alyce, and I prayed for you, and God heard my prayer.”
Out of the mouths of babes. Sweet Alyce dried tears from her eyes with her fingers, then she silently prayed. Lord, thank You for being faithful, gracious, and merciful. Give me the strength and the courage to trust You in this circumstance, including with my daughter’s life.