A Chance at Love (4 page)

S
haking the last of the salt out of the bag on the icy walkway the next morning in front of my grandma’s house, I found myself bothered by the coldness that was nipping at my fingertips. Two fingers had gone entirely numb. Standing upright, I set the empty bag down and pulled off my glove. The two numb fingers were going white in color while the rest were red. It was negative two outside that day, and frostbite was definitely making itself at home. Turning around, I put my glove back on and grabbed the empty bag, heading back up toward my grandmother’s house. Looking across the snow covered yard, I noticed a white coating on all the trees that lined the side of her property. Each branch was covered in ice and shimmered in the light of the sun. I smiled as a breath of air escaped my lips and I took in the natural beauty.

At the porch, I kicked off my boots and headed inside. I found my grandmother at the kitchen table reading her Bible and drinking a cup of steaming tea.

“We’re out of salt. I’m going to head up to the corner store,” I said, walking over to the counter.

She looked up at me and said, “Tell Bob hello for me, please.”

“Bob?”

“Yeah. He should be working today. I have a gift for him and his wife, but I haven’t had a chance to wrap it yet.”

“Do you want me to wrap it and take it with me?” I asked, grabbing the keys off the counter top.

“That’s a good idea. Not sure if I’ll see the two of them before Christmas. It’s just a couple of scarfs and hats that I knitted for them.”

“Okay. Where are they?”

“They should be up on the shelf in my closet. The wrapping should be behind the hanging clothes.”

“All right,” I replied.

Walking into the bedroom, I saw a picture of my grandparents on the dresser. I stopped and admired the snapshot from a different period of time. The edges of the photo were worn, and the picture was black and white with a weird aged yellow coating. Paying attention to his service uniform, I began to wonder what his story was and how it all had unfolded. What did he do when he left high school? I hadn’t heard much about him, since he passed away when I was only two years old. I tarried for only a moment longer as I looked over at my grandmother in the picture. Joanie looked just like her. I smiled and walked over to the closet.

Opening the door, the smell of old came rushing out. I reached up to the shelf and felt around for the scarves and hats. Finding them, I pulled them down from their place and proceeded to wrap them.

Thoughts of Christmas swirled in my mind as I walked back into the warmth of my grandma’s house. My grandma hadn’t spoken a word about the holiday outside of having me drop the gift off. A bit curious if I was already roped into something, I approached her.

“Bob said thanks for the gift.”

“Aw, what a sweetheart. His wife and I have been friends for decades.”

I nodded. “He said you should try to make it down to the church for the Christmas Eve service.”

My grandmother’s smile fell away and was replaced with a look of disgust.

“What’s wrong?”

Her lip tightened and she shook her head. “Not gonna talk about that.”

“Well, Now I’m intrigued,” I replied, sitting down at the kitchen table. Looking her in the eyes, I leaned in and asked, “What is it?”

“Just some church drama with some of the ladies from my prayer group. It’s not good to talk about people, so I’ll leave it at that. I don’t want to go there for Christmas Eve service. Find me a different one we can go to.”

Recalling the girl and the community church I delivered pizza to the other day, I said, “What about a community Church? Like Calvary Community Church, over on Ash in Spokane?”

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “It’s not Baptist . . .”

“Was Jesus a Baptist?”

“Well, no.”

“I think you’d like it.” There was no way of knowing if that was true, but I knew I’d get another shot at seeing the brunette angel again. I held my eyebrows up as I waited eagerly for her reply.

“I suppose the birth of Jesus isn’t going to be different at the community church.”

My face broke out in a smile as I felt a surge of happiness course through me. Without thinking, I said, “I don’t understand why Joanie didn’t like you.”

“She said that?” my grandma asked. Tears were welling in her eyes.

I messed up. There wasn’t a way to make my grandmother un-hear what she’d just heard.

“Um . . .”

She got up from the table, and with a dipped chin, she left the room. She looked sad. Not mad or angry, just sad. As she rounded the corner down the hall and went into her bedroom, I pulled out my phone to call Joanie.

“So what’s your beef with Grandma? She’s not bad at all.”

Joanie laughed on the other end. “Seriously? She’s the worst. She made me read the Bible every morning out loud at breakfast. She made me cook, clean and take the trash out. She was a slave driver.”

“She didn’t make me read the Bible,” I replied, glancing back over my shoulder toward the hallway that led to our grandmother’s bedroom. “Maybe she’s changed, Joanie.”

“She doesn’t change, Kyle. It’s coming.” Joanie laughed. “You just be ready for it.”

I laughed. “Whatever. I’ll talk to you later.”

Hanging up with Joanie, I headed back to her bedroom and knocked on the door. Waiting for a response, I looked between my feet at the brown shag carpet. I felt awful for what I had said, and I wished it had never come out of my mouth.

“Come in,” my grandmother said in a soft voice from the other side of the door.

Pushing the door open, I saw her lying on her side facing the wall away from me. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings . . .” I said, approaching the bed.

“Don’t be sorry. It was the truth. Never apologize for telling the truth, Kyle.” She let out a sigh.

“How come you made Joanie do so much with God when she visited, but not me?”

My grandma rolled over onto her back and rested her hands together on her stomach as a smile grew from the corner of her lips. “Joanie is a troubled young gal, and I wanted to help her.”

“But you made her loathe you instead.”

She nodded. “She won’t ever forget it either.”

Sitting down on the bed, I asked, “What good comes of that, Grandma?”

“Some day after I’m dead and gone, she’ll look back at that time she spent with me and cherish it. Or at least that’s my hope. I taught her to rely on God through prayer and the Bible. I taught her how to care for a family.” She looked over at me and said, “No offense to your mother and how she raised you two, but I think a family requires God.”

“None taken.”

“My goal, which I accomplished, was to teach her everything she needed in life in that week that she stayed with me here. While she remains young, she might hate what transpired here, but one day, she’ll look back and be thankful.”

“How do you figure? She could end up hating you for it forever.”

“God’s seeds, when planted, do not return void.”

“Seeds? Okay, Grandma.”

“It’s the truth.”

“How come you didn’t do the crazy stuff you did with Joanie with me?” I asked, leaning in.

“I’m doing an experiment, if you must know.”

“What do you mean?”

She looked over at me and smiled. “Yes. With Joanie, I toiled endlessly, trying to shape her with my own strength and wisdom and knowledge. With you, I want to let God do the heavy lifting instead of trying to get involved myself.”

“Well, I’m not really into God, Grandma.”

She smiled. “What time is the service on Saturday at that church you want to take me?”

I smiled. “I just know a pretty girl who goes there. It’s nothing else. Plus, I’m trying to be nice and take you somewhere for Christmas Eve service.”

Her eyebrows went up and said, “Sounds like He’s already working on you, Kyle.”

I laughed. “Whatever, Grandma. I’ll find out what time the service is.” Getting up off the bed, I looked over and saw the old picture of her and grandpa again and asked, “What happened when Grandpa graduated high school?”

“Oh, how I miss that man,” she replied. Looking over at her, I saw her wipe a stray tear. “He went straight into the Marines after high school and then came back stateside after being wounded overseas. I was his nurse at Fort Collins.”

“What’d he do for work after he recovered?”

“He worked for the railroad and did cattle auctions on the weekends.”

“Is that what he wanted to do?”

“He wanted to honor God. That meant feeding his family and taking care of all the bills, so that’s what he did. He did whatever he needed to do in order for us to survive.”

“Did he enjoy the work?”

She shrugged. “He enjoyed providing for us. I don’t know much about how he
felt
about the work. His mind was on God and spending time with us when he had the chance.”

I nodded. “I wish I could have met him.”

She nodded. “You would had loved him, Kyle. I know he would have loved you too. You remind me of him a lot.”

Smiling, I said, “It would have been neat.” Turning away from the picture, I continued, “I’m going to head out and finish up salting the walkway and then get started on shoveling off the roof.”

“Okay, thank you. Be safe out there.”

Walking back through the house, my thoughts stayed focused on my late grandpa. It fascinated me that he didn’t do what he wanted, but instead focused on God and his family. He was smart, just like me, yet he didn’t choose a profession he wanted to do. He cared more about God. Did he find value and purpose in that? I wondered.

It made me feel a bit ashamed to be so privileged to get a year off to figure out what I’d do when there were people like my grandfather who did what they had to in order to live. I didn’t know what my future held, but I did know I could do something now, and that was to stay and help Grandma. Before I headed outside to work, I called the church and found out the times for Christmas Eve services on next Saturday.

P
ulling into the parking lot at Calvary Community, I was blown away by the amount of cars parked outside. Arriving ten minutes before the start of the service, I quickly learned that my grandmother was right about coming early. I felt bad and pulled up to the curb outside the doors.

“I’ll go park and meet you inside.”

“We can park. It’s okay.”

I shook my head. “It’s going to be too far for you to walk. Let me go park.”

She smiled at me. “Thank you, you’re a sweet young man. I’ll be waiting by the entrance to the sanctuary.”

I nodded and got out of the car to help her out.

Getting back in the car, I rubbed my hands together to catch a little warmth. Swarms of people were heading into the church. It intrigued me that they were all there to hear the same message they probably heard every year. Once there was a break in the people in front of my car, I put the car into drive and went to go find a place to park.

Inside the church, I un-wrapped my scarf and put it in my coat pocket as I scanned the crowd of faces in search of my grandmother. Spotting her as a man stepped out of the way; I smiled and made a beeline over to her.

Letting her grab onto my arm, I led her through the wooden door into the sanctuary and down the aisle to find a seat. As we squeezed by people in a pew to an empty spot in the middle of the row, she pulled my arm back toward her to say something. Leaning back, I put my ear over to her.

“Where’s the girl?” she asked.

“Let’s just get to our seats, Grandma,” I replied. Continuing to our seats, we sat. Leaning over to her, I said, “I’m pretty sure she’s part of whatever is going on . . . so she’s probably backstage somewhere.”

My grandmother opened a pamphlet she had received on the way in and began looking at it. “Looks like this is a bunch of skits and some singing.”

“You don’t sound too thrilled.”

“I just like a little preaching. I like baby Jesus.”

I laughed. “Well, I’m glad it’s not just a ton of preaching. It’s a little less intimidating to be here. Maybe they do that on purpose for people who don’t usually attend church?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Intimidating? Really?”

“Yeah. Churches are considered to be God’s house.”

She nodded.

“Well,
if
He is the Creator and Savior of the world, and I’m sitting in His house . . . well, that’s a big deal.”

She nodded slowly as she grinned. “More people should take that perspective. Powerful way to look at it.”

“They don’t revere it as God’s house?”

“When you go every week, it—”

Suddenly interrupting our conversation, a man on stage with a microphone greeted everybody and requested people to take their seats, silence their phones, and quiet down.

Looking at the pamphlet between my hands as the show was underway, I scanned the list of people involved in the production and wondered which one was the girl I couldn’t get out of my mind. Ten minutes went by, and my hope began to dwindle rapidly. Then a half hour, and then an hour.

Toward the end of the evening, I had only a sliver of hope left as there was only one more song.

Looking through the darkness of the sanctuary and up at the stage, a man stood in the spotlight that shone down to the left at a lone microphone. He said, “With our final performance of the night, please join me in welcoming Emily Hayden to the stage. She’ll be singing Holy Night.”

Oh, I love that song
, I thought to myself. The spotlight faded, and a dark blue spotlight slowly brightened at the center of the stage.

There she was.

Barely able to see her through the dark hint of blue that illuminated around her, the crowd was as quiet as a snowy winter night. She began to sing.

“O Holy Night! The stars are brightly shining,

It is the night of the dear Savior's birth.

Long lay the world in sin and error pining.

Till He appeared and the Spirit felt its worth.

A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,

For yonder breaks a new glorious morn.

Fall on your knees! Oh, hear the angel voices!”

Chills ran up my spine as she continued to sing and I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. There were hints of sparkle in her hair that caught bits of light and reflected it back into the audience. My eyes drank in her beauty while my heart began pounding harder.

“O night divine, the night when Christ was born;

O night, O Holy Night, O night divine!

O night, O Holy Night, O night divine!

Led by the light of faith serenely beaming,

With glowing hearts by His cradle we stand.

O’er the world a star is sweetly gleaming,

Now dome the wise men from out of the Orient land.

The King of kings lay thus lowly manger;

In all our trials born to be our friends.

He knows our need, our weakness is no stranger,

Behold your King! Before him lowly bend!

Behold your King! Before him lowly bend!

Truly He taught us to love one another,

His law is love and His gospel is peace.

Chains he shall break, for the slave is our brother.

And in his name all oppression shall cease.

Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,

With all our hearts we praise His holy name.

Christ is the Lord! Then ever, ever praise we,

His power and glory ever more proclaim!

His power and glory ever more proclaim!

A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,

For yonder breaks a new glorious morn.

Fall on your knees! Oh, hear the angel voices!

O night divine, the night when Christ was born;

O night, O Holy Night, O night divine!

O night, O Holy Night, O night divine!”

The crowd erupted in cheering and clapping as the light faded away from the stage. Then the spotlight over to the left of the stage came back on and illuminated the gentleman from earlier. He began the closing remarks. My grandmother leaned into my ear.

“Go find her.”

Turning to her, I said, “She’s probably busy back there. I can’t do that.”

“Go find her, Kyle!” she insisted, shaking my arm. “You might not get another chance!”

I smiled and jumped up from my seat. Slipping out of the pew, I headed down the aisle to the back of the sanctuary. Pushing open the swinging door, I looked around the lobby and spotted the guy I had refused the tip standing near a table. I hurried over to him.

“Hey. I am looking for Emily. Do you know where she is?”

He looked quizzically at me asked, “Do I know you? You look somewhat familiar, but I can’t place you.”

“I delivered the pizzas the other day.”

“Oh. You’re the one that refused the tip . . . well, Emily’s not available.”

“What? Why? I just want to talk to her.”

He shook his head and put his hand on my shoulder. “Emily’s not your type of girl.”

I swatted his hand away and asked, “What’s that supposed to mean? You don’t even know me, Dude! I just want to see her!”

“She just got done with the show. She’s busy getting changed and out of makeup.”

“Is she busy, or is she not my type of girl?” I asked, trying to get past him.

He stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. “Look, kid. You’re obviously full of hormones, and she’s cute, so you think you want to pursue her, but it’s not going to happen.”

I stopped trying to get by him and looked him in the eyes. “You’re a man of God?” I asked.

He nodded.

“So what if God wants me to be with her?” I asked.

He narrowed his eyes at me, and suddenly the lights kicked on in the sanctuary. “Give it up, kid.” He turned and went to help hold the doors open for the crowd that was quickly approaching up the aisles.

Shaking my head, I walked past him and weaved through the crowd to find my grandmother. Finding her coming out of the row we sat in, I gave her my arm to hold onto.

“You don’t look happy,” she said.

I shook my head and led her out to the parking lot. As we walked across the fresh coat of snow that fell while we were inside, my eyes were drawn to the street light near where we parked.

“Each snowflake is unique, you know that?” my grandma asked.

Nodding in reply, I looked away from the street light and searched for my keys in my pocket. “You know they all start out the same up in the clouds, though, right?” I asked, pulling the keys out.

“True, but it’s the journey that shapes them into what they become.”

I laughed. “Guess God helps that, huh?”

“You’re the one who came up with that,” she said, smiling.

I stopped and looked at her. “I didn’t get to see her, Grandma.” My lips tightened together.

“I know.”

“Then what are you trying to do? You know I’m upset right now. Why are you trying to tell me about snowflakes?”

She grabbed onto my arms and looked me in the eye. “God can help us on this journey we call life, Kyle. He can help mold our lives if we let Him.”

“I thought you were just letting me figure it out on my own and not trying to intervene.”

She released her hold and grabbed for the passenger side door.

“What?” I asked.

She shooed me away as she opened it. “You’re right. I’m trying to keep out of it. Go ahead.”

“You’re mad at me?” I asked. Pointing back toward the church, I continued, “I just tried to see that girl and got shut down by some dude that’s supposed to be a
Christian
. It’s experiences with men and women like that that turn people like me off to church! How on earth is anyone supposed to feel welcomed when they get treated like garbage? He told me she wasn’t my
type
of girl!”

“Okay, Kyle.”

I helped her into the car as I could tell she wasn’t going to divulge. After she sat in her seat, she looked up at me and her lips opened partially, but then closed.

“What?”

She shook her head.

“Come on! Just tell me, Grandma!”

She looked back at the church and then at me. “God loves perfectly. People . . . they’ll always come up short.”

Squinting at her, I shook my head and shut her door. Getting in the car, I looked over at her said, “People love like crazy. I see it all the time.”

“That doesn’t make them perfect.”

“True . . .”

She placed her hand on mine and said, “Only God is perfect, Kyle. No matter where you go in life or what happens, you won’t ever find a more perfect love.”

“Okay, Grandma.” Turning the key over, I asked, “Do you need anything else before we go to my parents’ house?”

She smiled. “Nope, I am all set!”