[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.”Sam whooshed out a long breath.“Good.”“And that’s not all.” Hannah drew her shoulders up.“You know this school we picked out for you?”“Uh-huh.”“You know why we picked it?”Sam looked at the blond brick building with the bright red doors.“Because it’s a Christian school?”“Yes, that, and also because we got some personal recommendations about it.”Payt had worried about the expense of private education but Hannah had put her foot down.They had no idea how much time they would have with Sam.They owed it to the child to give him as much as they could for as long as they could.That meant an education that exposed him to the values they shared in a clean, safe environment.It also meant helping him to feel less isolated.To give him the gift of not just being loved but the blessing of being liked.“You know who recommended this place to us?”He shook his head.“Stilton’s mom.” Yes, Hannah had turned to her exemplary counterpart for guidance.If anyone knew the best, it would be Lauren Faison.“Stilton goes to this school.”“Really?”“Yup, and his mom says that a couple of the other boys on your team go here, too.”His mouth hung open for a second before he narrowed one eye and cocked his head.“Just ’cause they go there doesn’t mean we’ll be in the same class.”“Well, that’s why you are headed to school, young man.You don’t know everything.This school only has one class in each grade.”He looked at the school, then at Payt, then Hannah, then the school again.“So I’ll be sure to have my friends in my class? For sure?”“For sure.”“Yeah!” Sam gave a little jump, then pivoted and ran off as fast as his legs would carry him.“Sam, aren’t you going to give me a goodbye hug?” Hannah called out.“I don’t have time now.I want to go to school!” He never looked back, just charged on through the doors and down the hallway.“Bye, Sam.” Hannah sniffled.“I’ll be here to pick you up at three.”Payt put his arm around her and nuzzled her cheek.“Now what’s wrong? I thought you wanted him to want to go to school.”“I did.But I didn’t want him to want it that much.”11Subject: Nacho Mama’s House columnTo: Features@Wileyvillenews.comSam needn’t have worried about not getting invited to any birthday parties.Two invites have hit the mailbox already.Hit being the operative word! I’m shell-shocked—or maybe that’s sticker shock.What happened to simple kid’s parties? These things look like Hollywood extravaganzas.I expect paparazzi and armed security.Okay, it’s not that bad.But I can’t help wondering what will we do when it’s our turn to host Sam’s birthday? Renting out a water park and hiring a cement mixer to flood the water slide with nacho cheese springs to mind.Better hit the warehouse club and start stocking up now!At least we have a few months before we have to deal with all that.In the meantime other worries about Sam weigh on our hearts.Dear readers, I try to keep things light and show you my world through love and laughter, but if I may break from that for a moment—I’d like to ask those who are so inclined to remember Sam and his situation in your prayers.I know I’ve mentioned that Sam is our foster child and that we have no control over how long he stays with us.I’d have used a false name for him in the column but 1) Sadie submitted the first ones without my knowing it and 2) Y’all know who he is anyway.But to the kind ladies who asked for his full name to add in prayer, I hope you understand why I can’t divulge that.Just say Sam.God will know who you mean!We certainly appreciate the thought, though, as we have come to love this child as our very own.Whenever the topic of long-range plans arises, it is always with the unspoken thought in our hearts: What if Sam isn’t still with us then? In his young life the child has lived in multiple homes and gone to more schools than most of us attend in a twelve-year educational career.That’s too much turmoil for anyone, much less a young, shy boy.He needs stability.He needs continuity.He needs to trust that there are people in this world on whom he can always depend.We all do.Please remember Sam in your prayers—we’re counting on you.NOTE TO SELF: FINISH COLUMN BEFORE SENDING.“Can I count on you then?” Everybody needed somebody who could always be counted on.And today Hannah needed everybody she needed to count on to come through for her.Starting with her aunt.“Aunt Phiz?”“Yes, dear, go right on talking.I’m listening.I’ve done this so many times, I can do it blindfolded.”“Blindfolded, huh?” She studied her aunt.Wearing a blue-and-orange kimono, Phiz massaged her freckled fingers through a crop of brilliant red hair—a shade not normally found in nature, much less on a seventysomething-year-old woman.Hannah plunked her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her hand, musing, “Beauty treatments done blindfolded.That explains so much, Aunt Phiz.”“Oh, you.” She waved off the gentle teasing and padded barefoot through the kitchen clutching to her chest a grocery bag full of permanent wave curlers.“Run through your schedule for me again, dear.”“Mmm.” She sat straight and shimmied her upper body then lifted her shoulders left then right, to try to release some of the tension that never seemed to entirely leave her body.When that didn’t work, she sighed, poked a spoonful of mushy cereal into Tessa’s mouth and said, “I have a morning meeting with the DIY sisters.”“The D-A-F-F-Y sisters if you ask me.” Aunt Phiz fixed a towel around her neck with a big yellow plastic clip they usually used to keep potato chips fresh in an open bag
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]