I Waited Patiently by "Another Roshawna" Rachelle,” Roshawna turned imploringly to her younger sister, “what am I going to do? I just can’t go to church with everybody! We’re new and..different...and...people will stare...and...” “And?” Laurel walked into the girls’ bedroom. “Is that the end of your tale of woe, sister? If Rachelle won’t give you any advice, I will.” “Humph.” Roshawna grinned at her older sister. “I know what you’re going to tell me, but go ahead anyway. You usually have good advice.” She picked up the comb on the dresser and resumed combing her long red hair. "Roshawna, I think you remember when I first started to wear a head covering. I was thirteen years old and none of my friends did, but that’s what God has shown our family, and I was ready to do it. Do you remember how instantly I was ‘different?’" “Uh-huh.” Roshawna fastened a barrette. Laurel leaned against the door. “Rachelle, why don’t you make the bed while you listen since you’re all ready for church?” Rachelle looked up from Our Daily Bread. “Hey!” she protested, but she started to straighten the covers anyway. “You know what, Roshawna? I know exactly how you feel. In fact, once I was as shy as you when I was the new girl.” “You?!” Roshawna asked, her mouth full of hair pins. “Yeah, me. Do you know what changed me?” “What?” Rachelle looked interested for the first time. “Remember the girl named Gillian Zimmerman? Well, her name enough made her different, and I recall one of the boys saying, ‘Thanks a million zillion, Gillian’. Well one day I saw her standing all by herself at church. Suddenly I forgot my own shyness, and I went over to her and said, “Hello, is it....Jill?” She looked so relieved that I hadn’t called her Gillian Zillion like the other kids and she replied, “Yeah - call me Jill.” As we talked I found out that she had once lived in Ohio, and half of the families at church had lived there at one time or another. After that we couldn’t talk fast enough. One of the other girls, Mary, walked by and said, “Oh, Laurel, you’re talking to Gillian Zil-” but I cut in, “Yes, I’m talking to Jill, do you know her? Did you know that she lived in Ohio? And she even was friends with Anna Coblentz!” I rambled on before Mary could get a word in edgewise. Happily, that was the end, at least to my knowledge, of the zillion Gillian stuff, and Jill became one of my best friends. And did you know that she— shy, reserved Gillian— is the honorable Mrs. Jill Keim?!” “Oh, I didn’t know that!” both girls exclaimed. “Really?” "Really. And I learned through that experience that the best way to overcome shyness is to find someone ‘miserable than thyself—’" “But—” Roshawna interrupted, as she pinned her covering on. “But what? So you only have one name? So you have red hair? So you are just too shy? So-there isn’t anyone more uncomfortable than you? Then come stand by me, and I’ll rescue you.” Laurel grinned at Roshawna, and Roshawna kissed her older sister. “Thanks, Laurel. I know, though, “ she turned to Rachelle who was as neat as a pin— sweater on, shoes tied, Bible in hand, sitting on the bed, “that Rachelle won’t have any problems. She’ll talk herself right out of any that might walk her way!” “Hey!” Rachelle defended herself. “I’ve been nice and quiet. I don’t talk as much as you think!” “Girls!” Daniel yelled, “The last one down has to ride to church with me in the truck!” Rachelle and Laurel dashed down the stairs, for they would not want to be seen near Daniel’s old ‘clunker.’ Roshawna sighed as she tied her shoes. So- I have to have old shoes, red hair, shyness, and arrive at a new church in my brother’s orange truck! What could be worse? She grabbed her Bible and took one last look at the orderly room that she and Rachelle shared. A piece of yellow paper taped to the dresser mirror caught her eye. A verse was written on the slip of paper in Rachelle’s even handwriting, just as neat and tidy as Rachelle herself was. “The Lord looketh not on the outward appearance, but on the heart.” Thanks, Lord, for the reminder, she prayed as she walked into the hallway. “ROSHAWNA SCHWARTZ!” Daniel bellowed from the front door. “Mom and Dad are already on the highway! I’m leaving. Do you want to walk?” "No, I’m coming!" She ran down the stairs. "I guess I don’t need to add ‘late’ to my list of ‘differents,’" she told Daniel as she closed the front door. “Humph.” Daniel growled, “I never knew you were so DIFFERENT from Laurel and Rachelle. You take forever to get out of the house!” The orange pickup roared to life, and as they turned onto the highway, Roshawna prayed, "Lord- help me to be brave." * * * Daniel held the songbook for Roshawna as they sang, “He was despised, rejected and scorned...” Roshawna wondered if that was how she was going to feel today as the preacher finished his sermon. Oh, how she hated visiting churches! She felt like a spectacle! Dad and Mom were smiling and outgoing, and the boys always knew how to make friends, and Laurel and Rachelle were born talkers. But Roshawna- she was painfully shy and reserved. She felt different, whether it was her covering, her slightly faded gray and pink dress, or her shoes that no matter how much David shined, looked scuffed and brown and old. Laurel and Rachelle looked pretty much the same, but they were bubbly, cheerful girls, and people overlooked their appearance..... “You are dismissed,” the preacher announced, and immediately a hubbub of conversation arose. The girl in front of Roshawna turned around and eyed her uncertainly. Roshawna took a deep breath and said, “The Lord bless you! My name is Roshawna and—” “You’re new,” the other girl returned coldly. “Yes, we are. We just moved here from Michigan. What’s your name?” “Arielle Rose.” Roshawna thought that name sounded just as sophisticated and lovely as Arielle looked. Arielle looked at Roshawna again and said slyly in a low voice, “Are you a sophomore or senior in high school? I’m a senior,” she added. Now Roshawna was stumped. How was she going to answer this? “Well, uh, we stop regular school workbook at eighth grade, so— I guess I’m not in high school.” "I see. I’m leaving now. Good bye." Arielle answered stiffly. Roshawna was stricken. Numbly she followed Rachelle out of the church doors. “Won’t you ride home with me, Roshawna?” Daniel asked. “I guess so,” she replied glumly. When they were safely out of sight of the church and Arielle, Daniel asked “What’s wrong, Roshawna? You look as though you’re pretty unhappy.” At her brother’s kind words, Roshawna burst into tears. “Arielle— senior— she is— oh, we aren’t going back, are we— snobby. . .” “Roshawna, slow down so I can understand you!” Daniel exclaimed. “Oh, Daniel, I just can’t make friends. Everything I say sounds flat and dull. And we look so different, Arielle must have thought I was from Mars!” “Nonsense.” Daniel snorted. “I would have to say that your conversational skills are a lot better than Miss Arielle’s. Besides, you shouldn’t say ‘I can’t make friends’ when you’ve only begun to try. And as for being different— Jesus was different, too, Roshawna.” "I know," Roshawna thought to herself as they drove into the Schwartzes’ lane. " But why do I become so shy when I’m new? I talk a mile a minute to Laurel and Rachelle and Daniel!" * * * Well,” Dad said from the head of the table, “I rather liked this church. Shall we go again next Sunday?” Roshawna’s heart sank. David spoke from his place beside Roshawna, “I thought the preacher’s text was interesting, you know, about not storing up earthly treasures. Sometimes I feel like I do too much of that.” “Storing up treasures?” Rachelle feigned seriousness. “Oh, like— an old rusty license plate from Arizona, maybe....a bottle top that Grandma brought here from Germany...” Everyone laughed, because David was the family’s pack rat. Just forget about Arielle and enjoy your family, Roshawna thought, and she pinched herself. R oshawna! Will you come with me to do Rhoda’s beans?” Rachelle called through the screen door to Roshawna, who was finishing icing a chocolate cake. Rhoda was the Schwartzes’ neighbor, and she and her husband had three little girls and a big garden, both of which kept her very busy. Rachelle often went over and weeded and worked in Rhoda’s garden for her, but Rachelle didn’t like working alone; today was no exception. “Sure,” Roshawna ran to change into her old brown ‘gardening dress’ and walked onto the front porch. “Roshawna! Take off your shoes and stockings— you forgot that Rhoda’s garden isn’t in the shade! It’s 90º out there!” Rachelle exclaimed. “I’ll race you to Rhoda’s garden!” The two girls set off across the long front lawn and breathlessly flopped down beside Rhoda’s beans. “I’ll start picking if you go ask Rhoda for buckets,” offered Roshawna, and quickly she began picking beans. "I think I’ll ask Rachelle if she very much longs for friends," she thought half out loud, "I sure would like some friends. So far at church I don’t have any." She winced for the umpteenth time as she thought of Arielle Rose. “Say, Rachelle,” she began when Rachelle came tripping out to the garden carrying two five gallon buckets “Do you have any friends at the church we’ve been going to?” Rachelle kept her back to Roshawna as she answered, “Yeah, I do— a bunch!” Roshawna sighed and Rachelle continued, “Yup- an older couple, two girls, and even a couple boys!” This was news to Roshawna, and her mouth dropped open. “Why didn’t you tell me? What are- “Oh, names? Hmmmm, let’s see. Well, the boys - I think their names are Daniel and David.” “Sure, I know— Laurel and Roshawna and Dave and Kathy Schwartz. How funny. Rachelle Schwartz, you are so provoking!” but Roshawna laughed in spite of herself. “Listen, Roshawna. I’ve gotta tell you something. Daniel and Laurel don’t want me to, but I have to. Last Sunday I was talking to Glenna Richards, the girl with blonde hair.” "I knew Rachelle had friends. She just doesn’t tell me because she knows I’ll feel bad," Roshawna though bitterly. “And Arielle, the girl you talked to, walked by, and I heard her saying to the girl beside her ‘I wonder who those snobs think they are. The one with red hair and drab gray dress said that she isn’t in high school! Imagine! And she sounds so old-fashioned. She says 'God bless you', as if we need to be blessed.' I couldn’t believe my ears and neither could Glenna. (-By the way, Glenna is really nice. You ought to talk to her.) Anyway, Glenna whispered to me, ‘Never mind Arielle. Her mom died when Arielle was five, and her papa spoils her rotten. That’s why she acts so high and mighty.’ I told Daniel and Laurel, and they both said not to tell you, but somehow I felt cruel having you keep talking to Arielle, even though she talks about you like that,” Rachelle finished. To Rachelle’s great surprise, her older sister did not cry. She didn’t even get angry. In fact, she just kept putting green beans into her yellow apron. “Well?” Rachelle asked. “What are you going to say?” “What am I supposed to say?” Roshawna looked up, defeat and hot tears in her blue eyes. “I knew she hated me. I was only trying to forget my own shyness like Laurel told me to. It didn’t work, though. And I’m never going to try to make friends again.” “Why Roshawna!” Rachelle cried. “I’m sorry I even told you! I never dreamed you’d take it so hard. Don’t say you’ll never try again; that’s giving up!” “I’m going home now,” Roshawna told Rachelle softly as she emptied her apron into the bucket. “You’re nearly done, anyhow.” Then turning, she streaked across the road and front yard, across the driveway and into the barn. Rachelle watched her disappear. "Oh, Roshawna," she muttered under her breath, "Why do you have to be so sensitive? I should’ve listened to Daniel and Laurel. They’re usually right, anyway. Now Roshawna’s got this burden to carry around, and it’s my fault. Oh, boy, Daniel will be hopping mad if he finds out I told; he’s so protective of Roshawna"...Rachelle finished the beans and put the buckets on Rhoda’s back steps. Slowly, she trudged home. * * * Roshawna ran into the barn and the cool concrete beneath her feet soothed her. She picked up one of the kittens and ran outside to the swing to sit and ponder what Rachelle heard. Oh! how foolish gossip stung! Oh! how it tore at her very soul! She held back her tears, because she couldn’t cry right outside where anyone and everyone could see. She couldn’t cry in her room, because Rachelle or Laurel would hear and tell Mom, and Mom would come and talk to her. She didn’t mind talking to Mom, but to have to tell the whole story again— to hear it from her own lips— A tear stole down Roshawna’s hot cheek. Who could she confide in? The kitten scratched her, and quickly she dropped it. God is our refuge, an ever present help in times of trouble, Roshawna remembered. So, almost inaudibly, she began to tell God all about Arielle and church, and her friends— or lack of them. She pumped the swing high, high, high above the ground, and as she felt the cool breeze drying her nearly steaming tears just as fast as they overflowed, Roshawna began to sing. Softly at first, and then with more feeling. “God’s ways are...higher, higher, much much higher, higher higher much higher. And God’s love is deeper, deeper, much much deeper....” Rachelle heard her sister’s clear soprano voice as she walked in the lane. But she wasn’t naive enough to believe that Roshawna had forgotten. She decided to herself, that she would tell Mom and have Mom talk to Roshawna. She found her mother sitting on her porch rocker, shelling peas. “Why, Rachelle!” laughed Mom, “So you came to help me!” “Sure, I’ll help you, Mom.” Rachelle sat down on the porch steps and took the bowl Mom handed her. “It’s like this...” * * * That night Mom called Roshawna out to the porch. “Roshawna, let’s take a walk.” “Where to?” “Oh, maybe back to the little creek in the woods. I want to talk to you,” Mom smiled at Roshawna. Roshawna glanced sharply at her mother. “Has Rachelle been talking to you?” “Yes,” Mom nodded “and she told me all about everything. Roshawna, I think that you need to forget all about Arielle.” “But Mom! I can’t! It hurts, Mom, so bad! I don’t have any friends, and no one loves me outside of my family. In fact, they hate me. I’m never leaving home again.” “Roshawna, stop. Right now. Listen to me. That is nonsense! How will you ever have friends (if you want them) or get married, or anything else if you stay in the house all of your life? I don’t mean I want you to go to college or get a job, but I mean going to church, or working for Rhoda or going to the grocery store. Roshawna, just because of what one foolish young lady said, does not mean that you cannot have friends. You know, I think you should read Psalm 40. It will become very precious to you, I am sure.” That night Roshawna turned on the little lamp in her room and poured over Psalm 40. She could see what Mom meant. It was beautiful. “I waited patiently for the Lord and He heard my cry. He brought me up out of a horrible pit and set my feet upon the rock and established my goings. He has put a new song in my mouth, even praise to our God. . .” Roshawna knew that Mom was right. She knew, too, that she shouldn’t take it so hard. But try as she could, the cruel words tauntingly floated back to her. . ."And did you hear what the girl in the drab gray dress said? She isn’t in high school! Imagine!". . .Roshawna also remembered the chorus she had been singing earlier. . .God’s ways are higher, wasn’t that it? But she couldn’t see that her problems of loneliness were better, or for that matter, higher. . . ."And they say ‘God bless you’ as if we need to be blessed!". . .And the verse that Rachelle had taped on the mirror, what did that say? About the Lord looking on the heart? Roshawna sure would like to see inside Arielle’s heart! Did she really mean what she said? . . ."Who do they think they are, anyway?!". . . Somehow, she had to forget the whole mess, she thought wearily as she turned off the light and fell into bed. She could hear Mom reading aloud to Dad downstairs. Rachelle was in Laurel’s room trying to get her to agree to make her a new dress. She could hear Laurel say, “But I’m working on my quilt! Why don’t you do it?” Roshawna smiled to herself. Rachelle never had been too crazy about sewing. She heard David come upstairs to go to bed. After a while, Rachelle entered the bedroom. Heaving a big sigh, she opened a drawer and took out a bag. Roshawna knew what was in the bag. It was material that Rachelle had bought with her birthday money. Rachelle sighed again. “Didn’t get any help with your dress?” teased Roshawna. “Guess I’ll have to make it myself.” Rachelle replied. She lovingly put it back in the drawer and went to get ready for bed. Slowly, Roshawna drifted off to sleep. Despite her mother’s admonition, Roshawna couldn’t forget Arielle, and slowly, almost without realizing it,Roshawna drew into a shell. No one could approach her without getting the feeling that Roshawna didn’t like them, because whether she knew it or not, Roshawna was suspicious of everyone. She had been so hurt over the past several years by other girls, that now she tried not to care. She didn’t even try to reach out. If Dad came into the house with the announcement that he was going to the post office to get the mail and Roshawna could come with him, Roshawna made an excuse that the tomatoes needed to be weeded. If David asked her to come with him to a neighbor’s house and help him paint a garage, she declined, saying that she had to clean her bedroom. If Mom and Laurel invited her to come along with them to a sewing bee for some needy friends, she refused, saying, “I was planning to clean the bathroom today.” At that, Laurel quickly shot a questioning glance in Roshawna’s direction, and Roshawna looked away, and replied feebly, “Well, it does need it.” To everything her answer was “I’ll stay home. Thanks, though.” The only thing she allowed herself to go to was church and events where she was absolutely required. One noteworthy event brightened the last part of Roshawna’s summer. . .a visit from Mother’s sister who was younger than David and about Laurel’s age. Elisabeth was full of life and sunshine, and she was more commonly known as “Lissa.” Lissa was from Michigan, too, where she lived with Grandmother, who otherwise would be all alone. She helped shuck corn, can peaches, mow the yard, and all in all she brightened the Schwartz household with her merry laughter and quick hands. Roshawna decided to watch Lissa very carefully when she went to church with the Schwartzes’. Roshawna was going to mentally compare how Lissa started a conversation with her own disastrous try at making Arie a friend. So... the last Sunday in August. . . Roshawna stole a glance at Lissa, sitting beside her. "Lissa is beautiful," thought Roshawna. "With her blonde hair and blue dress, she is pretty enough for anyone to be nice to her. But Lissa is beautiful inside, too. Maybe that’s where I’ve failed. Not worrying about the inside as much as I worried about the outside. Oh, my, I wonder what Lissa will say to Arie." For there sat Arie, directly in front of them. Almost surely, Lissa would speak to the girl. Momentarily, Roshawna forgot her hurt in her interest for how Lissa would handle Arie’s coolness. “God bless you! What’s your name?” Lissa smiled at Arie. “Arie Rose.” was the crisp reply. “What a beautiful name. Is ‘Rose’ your last name or your middle?” “Last.” Arie obviously wasn’t going to break down and chat with Lissa right away. “My name’s Elisabeth, but you can just call me Lissa. I’m—” “New,” Arie finished. “Exactly what I was going to say. I’m from Michigan, and I’m visiting my sister’s family.” For the first time Arie glanced at Roshawna. “Oh, Lissa is your sister?” Roshawna found her tongue. This was the first time Arie had spoken to her all summer. “Ah- no, my mother’s sister. Lissa’s my aunt.” Arie forgot all about the cool front she put up and said a trifle loudly, “Your AUNT?” “Oh, yes, I’m Kathy’s sister. I suppose it does seem strange to you, but Kathy was the oldest in my family, and I was the youngest. I was a little bit of a surprise; after all, Kathy had just had her first child! But it’s fun, isn’t it, Roshawna? To have an aunt your own age?” Roshawna nodded. “Well, that’s the first time I ever heard of that! Rather odd!” Arie said something else under her breath that neither Lissa nor Roshawna could hear, but it sounded like, “just as odd as everything else they do.” Well, Roshawna couldn’t see that Lissa had done anything different than what she did; perhaps after all Arie was just a difficult person to get along with. Now Roshawna was curious if Lissa would let it go and never mention the incident or if she would tell everyone else about it. If Roshawna had expected Lissa to make a big ruckus about it, she was in for a surprise. Lissa never mentioned Arie and didn’t for one minute lose her cheerfulness. In the middle of September, Lissa left, and she had saved news— special news— till the last of her visit, so it would be a happy send-off. The last night the whole family was gathered on the porch. “I have news,” Lissa said, and she sounded strangely happy. “You must try and guess what it is.” Immediately Rachelle said, “Grandmother said you could stay another month.” Everyone laughed, and Lissa shook her head ‘no.’ “You and Grandmother are moving here.” guessed David. “No.” “You’re moving somewhere else, maybe to Ohio where everybody else lives.” This came from Mom, who was as mystified as everyone else. Lissa grinned—”Welllll. . .kind of.” Roshawna had been silent the whole time, but now she knew. “You’re engaged!” she shouted in a momentary burst of excitement. Everyone gasped, and Lissa laughed. “You’re right. How did you know?” “Lissa, you ought not to mail letters where everyone can see the address if you’re keeping a secret!” Roshawna was feeling very mischievous. “Ha! You little scamp!” Now everyone was talking at once, and asking who and how and where. "Smart Lissa," thought Roshawna. "She knew to save that for the last so we wouldn’t feel so bad about her leaving." So that was how Roshawna’s summer ended, on a happy note. But no matter how much she tried, she couldn’t forget her problems at church and her shyness. She had pretty well convinced herself that Laurel and Rachelle and Lissa were the only girl friends she would ever have. * * * One day Laurel came in from town with the mail. “Mom! We got a letter from Grandmother!” Mom came hurrying downstairs and taking a knife, slit the envelope. This is what she read: “Dear Kathy and Dave, (and everybody else, of course!) As you now know, Lissa is getting married at the end of March. And then I’ll be in this big house all by myself. We have talked many times about when I would come to live with you, and now I need to. Will you take me? . . . . . . .” “Will we TAKE her? Oh, I can’t wait!” Rachelle squealed. Mom read aloud, “When you come to Michigan for the wedding, I’ll be all packed and ready, so-if everything works out, I’ll be able to come then.” It would be nice to have Grandmother living with them, and Roshawna was excited. Laurel was going to be one of the bridesmaids in John and Lissa’s wedding. Roshawna was very glad that she was not chosen for something like that! She had lost some of her reservedness after Lissa’s visit. But she still much preferred staying home to going to church and other social gatherings. Laurel couldn’t understand her, and sometimes Roshawna wondered if anyone did. * * * The wedding was over, and so was winter. Spring was blooming everywhere, and Grandmother was living with them. Roshawna had just turned sixteen when she overheard a conversation that was not meant for her ears. She had gone down to the basement in search of some thread for a dress she was making. The thread dropped and rolled under a table. Roshawna crawled under the table to get it and just as she was under, the basement door opened and into the room came Grandmother and Mom. Grandmother was saying, “. . .and I must say, it bothers me, Kathy. The way she doesn’t have any friends, and how she stays home all of the time.” Mom walked into the basement utility room, and Roshawna scrambled out from under the table and up the stairs, but before she shut the door, she paused and waited to hear what Mom was going to tell Grandmother. “I know, Mother. It bothers me, too. I’ve talked to Roshawna about her problem, but I don’t feel like I have the right to force her to go places. I’ve tried to show her how to overcome her shyness, but she seems unable to. She had a rather unpleasant experience last summer with a girl named Arie. . .” Roshawna shut the door before she heard anymore. So they were worried about her. Well, she was trying to wait patiently, even though she didn’t want to, and it seemed to her that she would only be hurt again if she opened up and allowed herself to go places. What had the psalm said? “I waited patiently for the Lord. . .” Please hurry, God! she prayed. The door slammed, and Daniel walked into the den where Roshawna was sewing. “Say, Roshawna, I have to go to town and get a new part for the tractor. Do you want to come along?” “Oh, thanks, but. . .-I— I- think — I’ll stay home.” One autumn day, sunny and bright, The Schwartz girls were on the front lawn raking maple leaves. The boys were burning them, and the crisp fall breeze, the beautiful leaves, and the songs that floated up into the air would convince any observer that the young people were having a wonderful time. Indeed, Roshawna thought so herself. In fact, she was so happy, she hurt inside. Mom, Dad, and Grandmother were gone for the day. Errands, appointments, and business dealings for Dad would keep them away until night. So David proposed that after chores, they rake and burn leaves. “Hey!” Rachelle exclaimed, “I’m sure-I know- we’ve got hot dogs and marshmallows, and Laurel’s making bread, so we can have a regular picnic!” Roshawna offered to do the dishes from lunch, and the rest resumed raking. Roshawna was wiping the last dish when the telephone rang. She flipped the towel onto the table and slid the bread bowl into place before she went to the telephone “Hello, Schwartz residence, this is Roshawna speaking,” she spoke cheerfully. The other caller coughed, then cleared his throat. “Hello...?” Roshawna asked again. “Yes, miss. This is Tom Phillips.” “Sir, I think you may have the wrong number.” “No, no. I know you, Roshawna. And I don’t know how to tell you what I have to tell you. Can you sit down?” Tom Phillips cleared his throat again. Her knees gave way, and her heart skipped a beat. “Roshawna, your parents and grandmother have been in an accident. A bad accident.” Tom was silent for a moment. “Roshawna? Are you still there?” “Oh, yes, I am, please, Mr. Phillips, I don’t know who you are, but please tell me quick— what happened?” Her face was pale, and her hands cold and clammy. “Your dad is okay. He broke his leg, though. Your mom is in critical condition in Intensive Care, but. . . . His voice trailed off. “Oh no, no! It’s Grandma, isn’t it? Oh, please, tell me quickly!” “Your grandmother is with the Lord now. Her pain is all over. Roshawna? Still there? The accident was not their fault. The other driver didn’t see the red light and hit them broadside. Do you want me to take you to the hospital?” “Oh, please do.” “I’ll pick you up in a half hour then. Roshawna, are you okay?” “Yes,” she answered simply, “I know that God—” her voice choked. “-that God is in control. Thank you for calling me. I can’t thank you enough. Good-bye.” The tears that she longed to cry were frozen inside of her. She walked out to the boys who were laughing heartily over something. Suddenly she didn’t know how to tell them. “Daniel,” her voice was hoarse, cracked. “Daniel.” Roshawna grabbed his elbow, and the tears exploded from her eyes. She cried as if her heart would break. “Roshawna! What is wrong? Roshawna, don’t cry so!” Daniel shook her gently. “Roshawna, listen. Tell me what is wrong.” David and Daniel both looked perplexed, and Daniel was worried. “An accident— Grandma— is— dead.” Great sobs tore at her heart. Now it was their turn to grow pale. David came to Roshawna and bent down to look in her face. “Roshawna. Look at me. Are Dad and Mom okay?” “Dad is, but he broke his leg. But Mom is — she is in critical condition. The man that called me— Tom Phillips— he’s going to take us to the hospital.” “I’ll go and call John and Lissa,” David trudged to the house as if there were weights on his feet. “Oh, Roshawna,” was all Daniel could say. She still stood there, weeping, her hands over her face. Finally she looked up at him. “Will you tell Laurel and Rachelle?” she whispered through her tears. He nodded and went to find them. She walked toward the house to get her sweater. She went to the bathroom to bathe her swollen face and met Laurel in the hallway. The two girls hugged, and Roshawna laid her head on Laurel’s shoulder and sobbed. “I guess we should get ready to go,” Laurel said, and putting their sweaters on, went to the porch to wait for Mr. Phillips. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he arrived in a blue van. Soberly they climbed aboard the long vehicle. With compassion, Mr. Phillips noticed the girls’ swollen eyes and the boys fumbling hands. He had seen them several times in his grocery store, and when he saw the accident happen outside of it, he told the police officer that he would contact the family. Arriving at the hospital, Mr. Phillips led them to the family waiting room and quietly disappeared. The room was quiet, soothing, and the smell of the coffee brewing somehow relaxed Roshawna a little bit. In a semicircle they sat on couches and overstuffed chairs. “What did Lissa say,” asked Rachelle, blowing her nose with a kleenex. David responded, “She and John are going to try and fly into Indianapolis out of Detroit and then rent a car and drive here.” “Good, I’m glad they can be here,” Laurel’s voice betrayed quite a lot of relief. “When can we see Mom and Dad?” Daniel questioned. As if to answer, a nurse in crisp white uniform appeared at the door. “Are your parents David and Katherine Schwartz?” David nodded and she said kindly, “Okay, follow me, then. I’m afraid that only three at a time are allowed, though. Who wants to be first?” David, Laurel, and Rachelle offered to be first, and that left Daniel and Roshawna. For awhile they just sat quietly praying. Then Daniel got up to get some coffee. It was too hot, so he set it on a table and paced back and forth in front of the door. Roshawna watched her tall, strong brother, and she thought that she had never seen him so upset. She didn’t like to watch him be so nervous. “Daniel, maybe your coffee is cooled a little,” Roshawna said. He paid no attention, just kept right on pacing. “Daniel, why don’t you sit down?” she tried again. He stopped and looked at her face and saw her tears trickling slowly down; he slammed his fist into his hand and said, “But why? Why did this have to happen?” “Daniel, please. I don’t know. Please, though, sit down,” Roshawna pleaded. He did, and relaxed a little. They talked about funeral arrangements until the crisp nurse returned. Glancing at her clipboard, she told them, “Your father is doing very well, and you all can be in his room. You can see your mother one at a time and only for five minutes.” Daniel and Roshawna followed her through the doorway into the hall. There was that distinctive hospital smell in the air, and everything was shining white. The nurse stopped at a wide door that read “Room 543- No Smoking Please- If Door Is Closed Ask A Nurse For Assistance.” The nurse, whose name tag read “Shellie” rapped gently on the door. A thrill surged through Roshawna as she heard Dad’s strong voice say, “Come in!” How different Dad looked, lying in a hospital bed. But he was feeling fine, he claimed. Laurel and David were on either side of him, and Rachelle was visiting Mother for the allotted time. Roshawna threw her arms around Dad, and Daniel awkwardly took Dad’s hand. Laurel had been reading the Bible to him, the passage about being “perplexed but not in despair, discouraged, but not cast down.” It was so good to see Dad, for the most part, okay. But Roshawna’s stomach twisted into a knot as the nurse, Shellie, escorted Rachelle back with tears streaming down her face. Kindly, Shellie asked who would be next. Roshawna nearly bolted off of the side of Dad’s bed. The ICU ward was two floors above Dad’s room. In the elevator, Shellie quietly talked to Roshawna. “Your mom is in a coma,” she said, “so she won’t probably know you. But all of the same, you should talk to her, a lot. Just tell her that you love her, and all of the little things that you did today, and those little things that girls tell their moms. O.K.?” Numbly Roshawna nodded. The elevator door opened and Shellie led her to the room where her mother lay. “Do you want me to stay here?” Shellie asked. Roshawna nodded, relieved. She had been afraid to be all by herself. She drew in her breath sharply at the sight of her mother. She lay in a white bed with tubes crisscrossed all over her body. Monitors were on either side of the bed with an unrelenting “beep-beep-beep-beep” and red lights with a merciless “blink-blink-blink.” “Mom?” she whispered. “Mom, I love you. We all do. Mom—” her voice broke, “Mom, can you hear me?” Shellie whispered “Go on.” “Today...we raked leaves, and we had a picnic. And Laurel made bread. It’s really nice outside.” Roshawna’s eyes filled with tears, remembering the many wonderful conversations she’d shared with Mom, and now. . .this?? She took Mom’s hand in her own. It was cold. . . and limp. Alarmed, she looked at Shellie. “Is she. . .?” Shellie assured her that Mom was okay. She fell to her knees beside the bed, her tears flowing unchecked. The cold, limp hand had frightened her more than the phone call, beeps, or blinks. Shellie quietly slipped out of the room and stood in the hallway. “Oh, Jesus, please let Mom live! I need her! Oh, God, please, I’ll do anything! I love Mom, I want her! We need her, God!” Silently she wept and prayed for her mother’s life. Roshawna felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. “Time’s up,” Shellie whispered. Blinded by tears, she stumbled from the room. The day passed in a blur for Roshawna. Dad was released from the hospital, though of course he didn’t leave. He “borrowed” a wheel chair and somehow convinced the doctor to allow him to stay in Mom’s room. Everyone else was in the family lounge, and one at a time, they were able to see Mom, every two hours. (After the first visit.) David was on the phone in the front lobby, it seemed, the whole time. Mr. Phillips offered to do the boys’ barn chores at home, and David had asked one of the brothers at the old church in Michigan to notify people of Grandma’s death. Roshawna felt numb. The cold, limp hand of her mom kept appearing in her mind, and she was reduced to tears all over again. Daniel was more upset than ever. Now he just sat staring out the window at the cars on the highway that ran past the hospital. Rachelle was numb, just like Roshawna. Laurel and David were the only ones who seemed to be calm. Laurel was supposed to be finding something to eat for Dad and everybody else. (As if they were hungry.) Night drew near. John and Lissa should be coming, Roshawna thought to herself. “You guys, I’m going down to the main lobby to wait for Lissa, okay?” They hardly looked up. “Okay, “ David responded. He seemed to have finished making phone calls. Like Daniel, he was staring out the window. Roshawna walked to the elevator. She looked at the buttons. One would be the lobby, right? She reached out to push it. Somehow, her finger slipped and pressed “2” instead of “1”. OOPS, she muttered to herself. Now there was nothing to do but wait. The door opened on floor two. Ironically it was the obstetrics department. She could see a young woman pacing the floor in a gown, obviously in labor. This brought tears again. Here they were possibly awaiting death— and this woman was awaiting life. "How much more pleasant it would be to stay on floor two," she thought as she pushed “1”. In the lobby, she chose a seat where she could see who was entering the hospital. First was an older woman. She nearly ran to the front desk. “My daughter’s having a baby, her first. I have to be there, oh, where is she?” The woman at the desk answered, “And what is your daughter’s name?” The old lady wrung her hands. “Anna.” The receptionist was a little sharp when she said,” Is that her only name?” “No, no. Her name is Anna Rosemarie Carol Beyer Smith.” None too patiently, the woman responded, “Well, I only needed the last name!” Roshawna had to smile at the little exchange. Several other people came into the lobby, but they went right on their way. After that a young girl entered the lobby, rather uncertainly. She had a basket of fruit over one arm, and she had on a simple cotton dress. She looked very pretty, Roshawna thought to herself, with that blue dress, and black hair, and the bright colored fruit. . .in fact— could it be? It looked like Arielle! The girl turned and saw Roshawna. A nervous smile played on her face, and yet she did not look as though she was the same uppity girl. Slowly she walked to Roshawna. In her low voice, she asked, “You are Roshawna, aren’t you? I’m Arielle. I heard about your mom and dad and grandma, and I’m so, so sorry. I remember. . .” tears filled her eyes. “You knew that my mom died in an accident, didn’t you? How well I still remember the agony of waiting for her to wake up. She never did. Anyway, I brought some fruit for you. I hope you can use it. I will pray for you.” “Oh, thank you so much, Arielle. I don’t know what else to say.” “I have to go now, but I have one more thing to tell you. I’m so sorry for how I treated you last summer. Will you forgive me?” “Of course I will, Arielle,” she caught Arie’s hand in hers, “And please, let’s be friends. I need a friend,” she added softly. “And I need a friend, too. It’s lonely when you’re stuck up. I- I want to change. And Roshawna,” she lowered her voice, “my father said, after he saw you and your sisters, that he thought your family seemed so nice. I was so annoyed at that, because somehow I wanted him to agree with me, and that’s why I kept on being so rude. Do you know what else my father said? He would like me to wear dresses, too. So I’m going to try it. Maybe it is hard for you to understand, but this is a very difficult thing for me to do. Will you pray for me?” Roshawna’s eyes glistened. “Oh, Arie, I will. Do you know, though, how much it means to me to have someone come to the hospital to see us? I appreciate it so, so, much.” The girls heard footsteps behind them, and turning, Roshawna saw John and Lissa. Rising quickly, she went to her aunt and threw her arms around her. "Oh, Roshawna," she whispered, “We went to the funeral home first... My mother looks so beautiful..She is with Jesus, and that’s the only way I can bear it.” Roshawna shook John’s hand and introduced them to Arielle, who left soon after. The other three went to the elevator and stopped at the waiting room where the others were. In hushed tones they greeted John and Lissa. “Lissa,” Laurel said, "We’re only allowed one at a time in Mom’s room, so John can’t go with you." Roshawna saw a shadow pass over Lissa’s face, and she said quickly, “Lissa, John can wait outside the door!” Daniel was talking quietly. “Lissa, you must be prepared for the worst. Mom doesn’t even look like herself. Her face is all bandaged, and she has tubes all over her body. . .” “Oh, please, John, let’s go right away!” Lissa cried. Together they left the room. * * * 3:00 am. It was Rachelle’s turn to visit Mom. Everyone else was dozing or reading in the waiting room. At 3:30 Rachelle came rushing into the room, jubilant. “Wake up!” she cried. “Wake up! Mom’s gonna make it! She woke up, and she even talked to me a little bit!” If Rachelle expected them to wake up in a hurry, she was not disappointed. Grandma's funeral was on Thursday and many hearts were touched by the sermon that was preached. Five weeks passed. They were slow weeks. Dad was still on crutches. November had arrived in bringing snow, and snow, and still more snow. Inside the house, Laurel was making chicken noodle soup, Rachelle was baking bread, and Roshawna was rolling out a pie on the table. The kitchen seemed lit up. It was near dark, so they had nearly every light on in the house. The boys had finished chores early, and Daniel was shoveling the front walk. David was setting up the hospital bed in the living room, and Dad was siting in a chair, his leg propped up, watching him. As you may have guessed— Mom was coming home! Roshawna finished her pies and slid them into the oven. Getting a dishcloth, she wiped off the table and began setting it. Rachelle lined up five loaves of bread on the pantry counter and began washing the dishes. “I feel so useless standing here and stirring this soup!” Laurel grumbled. “I have to sweep through the office and down the basement stairs yet!” “Laurel, Mom won’t be able to see that anyway,” David called from the living room. They were all happy and cheerful. Finally— at long last! Mom was coming home! * * * That night Roshawna lay thinking for a long time. Mom had come home. She was going to regain strength slowly, Lord willing. She had learned so much through their time of trial. And God had granted her request to spare her mother. Not only that, but He had given her the gift of a precious friend— Arielle. She felt that she had so much to praise the Lord for. She realized that her years of loneliness had been a gift from the Lord, too. She had drawn near to “the Friend who is closer”, and she had come to depend on Him so very, very much. For this reason, she was able to work through the accident, the death of Grandma, her mother’s hospitalization, with the assurance that God would be with her. She slipped out of bed and went to the window. She pulled back the ruffled curtains and peered through the window. Snow was falling. It was such a lovely picture to look out at the white fields. Her heart swelled with praise to God. Quietly, reverently, she whispered the words of the Psalmist: “I waited patiently for the Lord: and He inclined unto me and heard my cry. He brought me up out of miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock, and established my goings. And he hath put a new song in my mouth, even praise unto our God. . .Withhold thou not thy tender mercies from me, O Lord: Let thy lovingkindness and thy truth continually preserve me. . .But I am poor and needy; yet the Lord thinketh upon me: Thou art my help and my Deliverer. . .” Dropping to her knees, she bowed her head and prayed. “Oh, God, it is true. You heard my cry, and You delivered me. I praise you God, for giving Mom back to us. Thank you for her. We need her so much. Thank you for Arie. Thank You for the many, many blessings that you have given me. I am so unworthy of your grace. Thank You for Your tender mercies. And Lord. . .thank You for bringing me up out of the miry clay of loneliness and bitterness, and for giving me peace and joy in my heart. I love You. Amen.” She rose from her knees, her eyes full of tears, and her heart full of joy, because the Lord had truly answered her cry. Author’s note: This story is not entirely fiction, though I have added a great many fictional characters and events. The struggle to overcome the sorrow and bitterness that comes with loneliness has truly been real for me. I wish I could say that, “my enemies have become by friends,” but I cannot honestly say that. However, I can say, with all of my heart, that God has given me several dear, dear friends in answer to my cry. I would like to thank Jeannie Castleberry and Summer Chapin for helping me proofread. (They know who I am!) Thankful for His Grace, “Another Roshawna” YWSH Main Page