A New Life - Part 3

Hello Friday Fiction Fans!
The sun is coming up and it's looks like another beautiful day. Probably a little warmer than it was yesterday since it's supposed to be in the 50s today. Now if Baby Girl would just decide to come today or tomorrow the other kids could play outside. But we'll see. I think it's still supposed to be nice the beginning of next week too.

It's been a busy week. Not only were Mom and I working on cleaning out and organizing, I was busy contacting people about reviewing my audio, answering interview questions, going back and forth with a couple who want me to make them a queen size quilt, plus my writing. And, I was asked to be a judge for a writing contest and have been having fun reading the 33 stories that got entered in the age group I'm judging. :)

For those of you who are interested in "Dr. Morgan," :) I have been very busy working on it. Last week I got 5 parts written and this week I have more than 5 parts written. I was looking for some book on writing to read hoping maybe to find a few helpful tips or some marketing ideas. My kindle is a good thing to use for this sort of reading because I was able to read a few samples on Amazon. I tried one book, but it sure wasn't helpful. So I tried another book. Wow! This one has been great! Not only does the author give practical advice about writing, he offers ideas to improve your writing, suggestions on how to get more written and I haven't read the rest of it. :) I've been trying a few of the little tricks I learned from a suggested post (Kindle makes it easy to go read those linked posts.) and wow! This lady had gone from writing 2,000 words a day to 10,000 words a day in the same amount of time! Now, I wasn't going for that big of a jump, but every time I've used these tips, I've about doubled my word count. It sure was fun, but my brain was really tired! Now, just because I'm writing more, it doesn't mean you don't have to pray. This is a challenging story to write and I need all the prayer I can get.

Okay, that's it for today. I'll leave you with the next part of this January story. Enjoy!

A New Life

Part 3

Last time . . .
    Within an hour, clouds had covered the sky and a breeze began to blow. With a smile, Mary Louise McKinley whispered with a song in her heart, “Faithful is He that promised.”

* * * * *

    The quiet crying of Baby roused me from my sleep. Her needs were soon met and she lay in my arms wide awake.
    “Precious Darling,” I crooned, “even your coming was met by more promises. If only your father could see you.” I choked back a sob, for it was during these waking hours of the night that I felt the loneliest. After nearly four months of being without him, the longing to hear my husband’s voice again, to feel his arms about me, his kiss on my lips, to see his smile and bright, honest, blue eyes gazing with a tender love into mine, was often almost more than I could bear. At such times I would pull out my Bible and read until I felt comforted. That night was no different. After wrapping a blanket about Mary Mildred, I turn on the gas and,  pulling my warm dressing gown about me, I settled in the rocker with Baby in one arm and my Bible in my lap.
    I didn’t know where to read, so I opened it up at random and read: “For the Lord has called thee as a woman forsaken and grieved in spirit, a wife of youth, when thou wast refused, saith thy God. . . . With everlasting kindness will I have mercy on thee, saith the Lord thy Redeemer. . . . For the mountains shall depart, and the hills be removed; but my kindness shall not depart from thee, neither shall the covenant of my peace be removed, saith the Lord that hath mercy on thee.”
    Leaning back I began to rock. “Even more promises,” I murmured. Sometimes it was hard to trust, often it was hard to wait, but I never had to wait in vain. “He is faithful that promised. It is so true, Mary Mildred,” I whispered to the sweet baby cooing in my arms. “He is faithful, every time.”

* * * * *

    “I’m sorry ma’am,” the young man said, his face flushed and his voice apologetic. “You haven’t paid your rent last week or this and the owner of the place wants you out unless you pay.”
    It was the beginning of autumn. Already the cold nights had wrought changes; the trees had begun to exchange their summer dress of green for the brilliant and much admired dress of fall, large and small flocks of geese could be seen flying south while the last few summer flowers which had dared to bloom so late were gathered to be taken indoors and enjoyed. Mrs. McKinley didn’t notice any of those things, however, instead she stared at the young man before her. “But I don’t have money to pay right now. I’m expecting my husband back from a business trip any day now and then we can pay.”
    “Sorry,” the young man repeated. “Boss’s orders. If you don’t pay by the end of the week you’ll be thrown out.”
    “Oh what shall I do?” Mrs. McKinley moaned, a hand over her mouth as her visitor turned and moved away. “I scarcely have money to keep one room warm and food to eat. Robert, where are you? I need you. We need you,” she amended placing one hand on the front of her dress. “What am I to do?”
    For several minutes she stood in the doorway, leaning against the side and trying to think of a way to earn the needed rent money. At last, with a discouraged sigh, she turned and went into the house.
    Sitting down in the hard chair near the window, she picked up her sewing. The shop wouldn’t give her much more and soon she wouldn’t even be able to do that. “Isn’t there something I can do? Is there anyone I can ask to help me?” In her mind she went over her small list of acquaintances. She could think of no one. Tears began to gather and the sewing dropped from her hands.
    It wasn’t until after her cry was over that Mrs. McKinley glanced about the room to see if there was anything she might sell to pay the rent until Robert came home. As she did, her eyes fell upon her Bible. With a little cry, she started up, her sewing falling unheeded to the floor. “How could I forget?”
    Hugging the book to her heart, she knelt beside the bed. “Forgive me, Lord, for not coming to Thee right away.” Rising, the young wife sat down on the bed and turned the pages reading a verse here and one there until she read: “Leave thy fatherless children, I will preserve them alive; and let thy widows trust in me.” Gently she closed the book and sat for a minute. “I will trust in Thee,” she whispered. “Help me.”

    The following morning dawned bright and clear. A knock sounded on the door before Mrs. McKinley had gotten the meager breakfast things cleared away.
    “Good Morning, Mary Louise,” a cheery voice greeted when the door was opened. “I hope I’m not disturbing you calling this early. You see, I was hoping you had a bit of black thread I might have. I only need a small piece, but I have run out, and I haven’t time to go downtown.” It was one of Mrs. McKinley’s near neighbors, an older woman who rented a few rooms in a large house on the corner. She also took in mending and the two women had often exchanged greetings or offered advice.
    Mrs. McKinley produced the desired thread and Mrs. Kouts proceeded to sew on a button. Somehow, Mrs. McKinley was never quite sure how it came about, she found herself pouring out her troubles into the sympathetic ears of her visitor.
    “Dear me, such trouble,” Mrs. Kouts shook her head. “Have you no idea where your husband might be notified? No? Well, then I see no other way but for you to pack your things and I’ll get two of my neighbors’ sons to bring them over to my rooms."

What do you think happens next?

Next week is the final part.

Will you be back?