Tender Love

“We need to share with Gran. Eddie, will you take her a muffin while I pour the milk?”

He jumped out of his chair. “I want to show her our pictures, too.” He tucked the images they’d drawn under his arm and took the muffin Alice placed in a plastic bowl. She watched him a bit anxiously for she hadn’t seen Eddie go up or down the stairs by himself, but neither he nor Kristin seemed to realize that his behavior was unusual. She waited with bated breath until he returned to the kitchen, and although his color was heightened and his breathing accelerated, soon after he sat down and started eating his muffin, his complexion and breathing were normal.

“I want to show Daddy the pictures, too,” he said.

“Fine. Help me rinse our glasses and plates, and we can leave them in the sink. We might have another snack with your father when he comes home, if it isn’t too late.”

“But you said we could wait up for him,” he said.

“Well, I didn’t exactly say that, but if you do get sleepy, I’ll stay upstairs with you until he’s home.”

When they went into the family room, before they turned on the television, Kristin said, “What’s another game you and your sister played?”

“We used to tell progressive stories. One of us would think of a subject and we’d make up a story about it. The first one would talk for a few minutes, then the other one would add on ideas. We’d switch back and forth, changing the story content to fit what the one before had said until we thought the story was finished. They were make-believe stories. Think you could do that?”

“I can do it,” Eddie said, “if Kristin can.”

“I want to start the story,” Kristin insisted.

They settled on the couch with Alice between the two children.

“Natasha was a little girl, and she was afraid of spiders,” Kristin started.

“I don’t like that name—I can’t say it,” Eddie protested.

“Make him listen, Alice,” Kristin said, and turning a stern eye on her brother, she said, “You’re not supposed to say anything until I’ve finished.”

Alice put her arm around Eddie, and he snuggled close. “If you can’t pronounce Natasha, maybe you can say, Tasha.”

“Tasha,” he said experimentally. “I’m going to call her Tasha. Hurry up, Kristin, so I can talk.”

Two stories and an hour later, Alice had learned a lot about her companions. They were both afraid of spiders, they were terrified of the dark, they couldn’t understand why their mother had to die, and they were worried about the future—especially what would happen to them if their father should also die. These revelations disturbed Alice, especially when she knew that Kristin was going to camp tomorrow where she would probably encounter lots of darkness and spiders.

When the second story ended, Eddie said, “Okay—what’re we going to play now?”

Smothering a yawn, Alice said, “How about the ‘take a nap’ game?”

“Hey, Alice, that’s sneaky,” Kristin said. “I bet there isn’t any such game.”

“No, but I’m sleepy. Let’s find a show on television that you like, and you can watch while I take a nap.”

Kristin looked at the clock. “It’s ten o’clock, and we usually aren’t awake this late, so we don’t know what to watch.” Her face twitched nervously as she added, “It’s awful late, I wonder if Daddy is all right.”

“I’m sure he is.” What could she say to calm the fears of these children? “Shall I tell you a story before I take my nap?”

“Is it the kind where we talk, too?” Kristin asked.

“No, this is a Jesus story? You know who Jesus is, don’t you?”

They solemnly nodded their heads.

“Once when Jesus was talking to a group of his friends, he told them they shouldn’t worry about things that they couldn’t change. Some of them were afraid they wouldn’t have enough food to eat, others didn’t think they had enough clothes. And Jesus said that they should trust God to take care of them and not worry about what might happen tomorrow.”

Kristin and Eddie looked at her in mystification, obviously without any understanding of her words.

“Take your daddy, for instance. Let’s say he’s had a flat tire on the way home, and it took some time for him to repair it. Is there anything you can do to help him?”

“I don’t think so,” Kristin said slowly.

“Then why should you worry about it? Or be afraid that something terrible has happened to him? God loves your father, and He’ll look after him.”

“Then why did He let my mommy die?” Eddie whispered, tears glistening in his big blue eyes.

God, I’m getting in over my head. Help!

“Your mommy was very sick, wasn’t she? God took her to be with Him, and she won’t ever be sick again. Would you want her to still be here with you and hurting a lot?”

“No,” Kristin said, “but why didn’t God heal her? We need her more than God does.”

“I don’t have all the answers, but I know this— God could have healed your mother, but why he didn’t, I can’t tell you. We have to trust God to do the right thing, although we can’t always understand why He doesn’t do what we want Him to do.”

“I miss my mommy,” Eddie said, his chin quivering, and Alice’s heart ached for the boy. She leaned over and kissed his cheek, now wet with tears.

“I know you do, but there’s nothing you can do to bring her back. So instead of worrying about things you can’t help, why don’t you be the kind of children your mother would want you to be?”

“What would she want us to do?” Kristin wondered.

“Oh, she’d want you to help your daddy and not let him know how sad you are, and try to grow up healthy and strong, and learn a lot of things. Do you think you can do that?”

“Maybe,” Kristin said, but she looked doubtful.

“Let’s learn a Bible verse? There’s one that says, ‘I will trust and not be afraid.’ Could you say that with me and mean it?”

Several times, they repeated in unison, “I will trust and not be afraid.”

When she thought they had the verse committed to memory, Alice said, “Let’s turn on the TV and watch one program. If Mark isn’t home by then, you should go to bed.” When she found a commentary on wild animals that seemed appropriate for the children to watch, she added, “I’m going to take a nap—your father will probably be here by the time the program ends.”

Alice didn’t really intend to go to sleep, but she thought it might induce sleep in her charges. When she awakened groggily, she slitted her eyes, noting that Kristin was lying with her head on Alice’s lap, and that Eddie was snuggled against her, sheltered by her right arm. Her arm was numb, and she supposed that had awakened her until she roused further. Mark stood over them, the remote in his hand, turning off the television.

Alice flushed to have him see her in such close proximity to his family, and she sat up, her movement awakening Kristin and Eddie.

“Daddy!” Kristin cried. “You did come home. We worried about you until Alice taught us a verse, ‘I will trust and not be afraid.’ Then all of us went to sleep.”

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Eddie wiggled away from Alice and ran to Mark. He clutched the pictures they’d drawn. “Look, Daddy—we’ve been drawing pictures.”

“And telling stories,” Kristin interrupted him. She took Mark’s hand. “Come in the kitchen. Alice made apple muffins, and we saved some for you. I’ll pour the milk.”

“Pictures, stories and muffins, too! I’ll have a hard time entertaining you from now on,” Mark said to his children, but his eyes were on Alice, and she lowered her lashes against his intent gaze.