His Love Endures Forever

Twenty




A FEW DAYS LATER, DANIELLE PICKED UP HER CELL to call Martha. It was around two o’clock, in between Vera’s morning and late-afternoon visits. She talked to Martha every day, but it had taken this long for her conversation with Vera to soak in enough to feel comfortable mentioning it to Martha. She hadn’t done what Vera suggested yet—forgive her mother and give it all to God—but she was thinking about it.

Martha answered, sounding groggy and grumpy.

“Hi. It’s me. How are you feeling? How’s the foot today?” Danielle shuffled across the floor and closed the partially opened window. Earlier the room had felt stuffy, so she’d welcomed the cool breeze drifting through the bedroom amidst the rays of sun that beamed down on the wooden floors. But as predicted, the temperature was steadily dropping today.

“It still hurts. I’m not sure when I’m ever going to be able to walk on it again.” Martha sighed. “But if there is anything good about this terrible situation, it’s all the creamed celery Katie Ann has been bringing me. How are you feeling?”

Danielle settled into the rocking chair that Vera had brought over for their bedroom. Earlier in the week, she’d shown up with a coffee table and two end tables for the living room. “I feel good. Fat, but good. I just don’t feel like I need to stay in the bed all the time.”

“You do exactly what the doctor said. It’s only September, and you need to keep that baby inside until at least the end of October, preferably all the way until Christmas. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Danielle smiled. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to tell you that Vera and I are getting along really well.”

“I told you. Vera is a good person. Stubborn sometimes. And controlling. But she has a heart of gold, I tell ya.”

“Yeah, I think you might be right. We had a really long conversation a few days ago. About God.” Danielle recalled Vera’s tears. And her own.

“Well, I hope someone can get through that thick skull of yours. The world shines a whole lot brighter with God in your heart.”

Danielle smiled over her gruff words. “I’ve been praying, you know. Vera explained it to me in a way that makes sense. I think. I don’t know. Maybe not. But she opened up to me, and . . . anyway . . . we’re a lot closer now. And I can tell that it makes Levi happy too.”

“Honey, that’s great. I miss you so much. I’d come over there, but this foot is just killing me.” Martha paused, groaning. “And I hate being in this bed having everyone wait on me.”

Sure you do. Danielle smiled. She’d had a broken bone before and knew that Martha was probably well on the road to healing. “Well, Vera is actually doing a very good job taking care of me. She makes sure I have three balanced meals every day, the house is clean, and . . . the last couple days, we’ve talked a lot. I feel more like a daughter to her now.”

Martha was silent.

“Martha? You still there?”

“Uh, yes. Just listening to Dude snore here on the floor next to the bed. Big lug of a dog stays in my room all the time. He’s supposed to be Arnold’s dog. Anyway, dear, I better go. Take care of yourself and our baby.”

“I will.”


MARTHA SHOT UP in the bed, swung her legs over the side, and yelled, “Arnold!”

A few minutes later, her husband rushed into the room. “What is it, my love? Are you in pain?”

“I’d like to take a bath and put some makeup on. And do my hair. I look a wreck, and I don’t know how you’re putting up with me like this.” She pushed herself from the bed, balancing on one foot.

“Careful, dear.” Arnold reached for her, but she eased his hand away.

“Just hand me those crutches and please help me to the bathroom. I’m going to bathe and make myself presentable.” Arnold eased the crutches under each of her arms. She glanced at the wheelchair Arnold had rented and frowned. “I’m not getting in that thing anymore. It makes me feel like an old woman.”

Arnold stood in front of her, his hands extended like he might have to catch her. “Have you ever walked on crutches? Do you know how?”

“How hard can it be?” She let her weight fall onto the crutches, pinching her underarm on the left side. Argh. She resituated them and tried again until she was finally able to take a step toward the doorway.

“Snookums, you don’t have to get all dolled up just for me. I’m happy to give you a sponge bath here in the bed. You know that.” His eyes twinkled, but Martha just looked at him and shook her head.

“I’m not getting dolled up for you.” She eased past him. “I’m getting myself ready so I can go see Danielle. You know, I love that Vera, but she’s up to her old tricks again. This time she’s trying to steal my daughter.” She twisted to face Arnold. “Why haven’t you been going over there to keep an eye on things?”

Arnold’s mouth dropped open. “Because you said you needed me here. Because you have been in awful pain.” He rubbed his chin, frowning. “I don’t think you should be going anywhere. You don’t seem . . . yourself.”

Martha carted herself out of the bedroom door and down the hall in less than a minute, yelling over her shoulder, “Vera has her own daughters! I’m not letting her steal mine.”

An hour later, Martha pulled into Danielle and Levi’s driveway, and sure enough, Vera’s horse and buggy were hitched up out front. Martha lifted her left leg and swung her cast outside the car, then caught her breath before she maneu-vered the crutches across the seat in front of her. It took effort, but she was finally on her feet, the crutches under her arms. Arnold had tried to insist on driving, but there was nothing wrong with her right foot, and in this part of the world, that was the only foot she needed to operate a car. She carried herself across the yard but stopped at the porch steps. Good grief. They looked like a mountain in front of her. She hadn’t factored those into her plan. Arnold had helped her down the steps at home.

She was eyeing the first step and wondering how she would hold the handrail and both crutches when Vera came out on the porch.

“Martha, what in the world are you doing?” She put her hands on her hips. “Did you drive yourself here?”

“Back off, Vera. I’m coming up.” She stepped up and onto the first step with her right foot, but that was about it. Vera was quickly at her side, and Martha decided if she was going to see Danielle, she’d better let the woman help her into the house.

“Back off ? Why do you sound so angry?” Vera grunted, her hand around Martha’s waist, as the two women struggled up the steps.

“Oh, never you mind. I’m here to see Danielle.” She marched on her crutches past Vera and into the living room while Vera held the screen open. Right away, Martha noticed the differences. A few new pieces of furniture, and the place smelled clean.

“Are we a wee bit cranky today?” Vera lifted one eyebrow, those hands back on her hips again.

Martha stopped in the middle of the living room and lifted a crutch toward Vera’s chest. “You have your own daughters. Quit trying to steal mine.” She kept the crutch there for a moment as Vera stepped back, hand to her chest.

“Are you crazy? What are you talking about? And quit pointing that thing at me.”

“Danielle told me all about how the two of you have gotten so close.” She gave the crutch a little push. “But Danielle and I are closer.”

Vera took a step backward. “Put that crutch down before you fall. And you’re being ridiculous.” She paused, smiling. “She said we’ve gotten close?”

“Yeah, yeah. But I think I’m plenty well enough to take care of her now, so you can pack up and go home.” Martha cringed as she almost stumbled and barely caught her balance.

“Ya. I see that.”

Vera’s catty smile was enough to make Martha want to smack her. “Danielle, I’m here now, honey!” She hobbled across the living room and into the bedroom. “There you are. I’m here to take care of you.”

Danielle put down a magazine next to her on the bed. “What are you doing here? What about your foot?” Danielle slid her feet over the side of the bed, got up, and walked to Martha. It felt good to have Danielle’s arms around her neck. “I’ve missed you, but you didn’t have to get out. I told you Vera is taking good care of me.”

“Not anymore.” She kissed Danielle on the cheek. “I’ve dismissed her.”

Martha turned around when she heard Vera grunt in the entryway.

“Dismissed me?” Vera’s hands were back on her hips.

“Yes. You heard me.” She plastered a wide smile across her face. “Thank you for taking care of Danielle until I was well enough to do it myself. But I’ll be here daily now.”

“Really?” Vera let out a haughty little laugh. “And how will you do all the cooking and cleaning in your condition?” She tapped a finger to her chin. “Do you even cook?”

Martha eased away from Danielle, taking deep breaths. “Yes, Vera. You know I cook. I believe Danielle made you my famous chicken lasagna. And I’ll hire someone to clean this place.”

Vera rolled her eyes. “I’m sure the children will get tired of chicken lasagna every night, and . . . well, it wonders me why you would hire someone to clean when I am perfectly able to tend to this haus. And Levi is mei sohn, and Danielle is . . .”


DANIELLE WONDERED HOW Vera might have finished the sentence, but she’d just tapered off and took a deep breath. Danielle was glad to see Martha, but she couldn’t help but think about all the great meals Vera had been cooking, and poor Martha could barely keep her balance on the crutches. Danielle wondered who would be taking care of whom.

“Martha, everything is fine here, really.” Danielle flinched as Martha nearly stumbled as she turned to look at her. “You should let Arnold take care of you, and Vera has been great, and . . .” She paused as Martha blinked a few times, then grunted. “It’s not that I don’t need you, because you know I do.” She glanced over Martha’s shoulder. Vera was smiling, and Danielle stifled a giggle. Then she just burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Martha puckered her lips, and Vera moved farther into the room until she was standing next to Martha, a confused expression replacing the smile.

Danielle bent at the waist and laughed harder. When she stood back up, she swiped at her eyes. “This is just kind of funny. My own mother couldn’t stand me and only wanted me around to serve her, but you two . . .” She laughed through her tears.

Martha and Vera turned to each other, frowned, then looked back at Danielle.

“Honey . . .” Martha shifted her weight, leaning onto the left crutch. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. I just . . .” She shrugged. “I think I’m a lucky person to have you both in my life.”

Vera edged forward, her face flushed. “I will stop coming if you want me to, if you feel like Martha can take care of you.”

“Oh good grief.” Martha made her way to the rocking chair in the bedroom and settled into it, rolling her eyes. “Don’t sound so pitiful, Vera.”

Vera spun around. “I am not being pitiful. You’re just cranky.” She turned back to face Danielle. “It’s up to you, Danielle.”

Danielle glanced back and forth between the two women, and she couldn’t stop smiling amidst the tears filling her eyes. Thank You, Lord, she found herself praying. For two moms, when I felt I had none. She settled her hands across her belly, then she looked out the window. “Look.” She nodded outside. “It’s snowing.”

She walked to the window and stared into a dusty mist of white swirls as clouds slowly eased across the horizon, leaving an orange glow in the distance. A few moments later, she heard the click of Martha’s crutches coming across the wooden floor behind her, along with a set of footsteps. As Vera and Martha joined her at the window on either side, they stared at the crystalline flakes dancing downward.

“I love the first snow of the season,” Vera whispered. “It’s early this year.”

Danielle thought about the two women standing next to her, different in so many ways, but with several things in common. They both had a strong faith, and they both wanted to take care of her. To teach her about another way of life that included a peacefulness that they both seemed to know. Danielle wanted to feel peace, and it seemed that faith was the way to that goal. She latched on to Martha’s hand and squeezed. Hesitantly, she reached for Vera’s too, and she smiled when Vera squeezed her hand first.

And as the snow deepened into a heavy blanket of white, Danielle knew what she was going to do.


IT WAS LATE in the evening when she heard Levi snoring next to her. Their bedroom was toasty warm from the propane heater, but Danielle couldn’t sleep. She picked up the flashlight next to the bed, shone it on the floor in front of her, and made her way to the living room. After adding another small log to the fire, she went to the kitchen and lit the propane lamp they kept on the kitchen table. She carried it to the window. Peeking out, she could see that the snow had stopped, just a sheen of white outside.

She put the lamp in the middle of the table, then walked to a kitchen drawer and took out a pad of paper and pen. Putting them on the table, she pulled out a chair and sat down. She stared at the paper and pen and wondered if this was a dumb idea. After trying to intimately communicate with God earlier, she couldn’t seem to get her thoughts together. But then she’d remembered keeping a diary, once upon a time. Writing things down seemed to help. It was sort of like a letter to herself, helping her get her thoughts in order.

But this was a different kind of letter. And she wanted to get it right. She picked up the pen and tapped it lightly against the table, thinking about everything that had happened since Martha had taken her in.

She’d started dating Matthew and gotten pregnant. Matthew had deserted her and Joshua. Levi had married her. And the biggest surprise of all—Vera seemed to now genuinely care about her and the baby. With Vera and Martha sharing her care, Danielle felt better cared for than at any other point in her life. Loved.

As Danielle thought about her life, the word blessed just kept coming to her mind. She thought about where she’d come from. A broken home, an abusive mother. To love. From Martha, Arnold, Levi. And now all of Levi’s family was slowly coming around. As she rubbed her stomach, Joshua gave a hard kick, and a tear rolled down her cheek.

She didn’t miss Matthew at all, but she couldn’t help but think how sad it was that he wouldn’t know his child. Or would he? Would he come back someday? And if so, how would Levi feel about that? They’d talked about it once, and Levi had said that Matthew had a right to see his son. She supposed they’d figure it out if it happened.

Something was missing, though, and Vera’s story had run through Danielle’s mind over and over again. She picked up the pen and listened for a moment as the winds howled against the clapboard house. Taking a deep breath, she began.

Dear God,

Hi. I’m Danielle. I know You probably know me, but I don’t really know You.

She put the pen down. This is so dumb. She leaned back and slouched into the chair.

Joshua kicked again, and she smiled. This new life was worth all the risks her heart had to take, even if it meant God didn’t hear her. She wanted to talk to Him anyway.

I’m not sure I’m worthy to ask for Your help and for You to bless me, Joshua, and Levi, but if You would consider doing that, I will promise to talk to You every day and try to get to know You better. I’ll also promise to try to live a good life.

She paused, her eyes filling with tears.

God, I want to be a great mother. Can You please help me with that?

And I want to thank You for Joshua, Levi, Martha, Vera, and all of my family and friends.





She stopped writing again and sniffled. Her hand started shaking.

I forgive Matthew for leaving us, and I hope You help him be happy.

And, God, I don’t know how to forgive my mother, but I’m going to try.

Please be with me, Lord. I need You. I know I do. Please help me . . .

I give it all to You.

Love,





Danielle





She lowered her head and cried softly. Then she stood up, picked up the letter, and eased across the kitchen floor. She slipped on Levi’s large work boots by the front door and pulled on his heavy black coat. She carried the lantern out the door and made her way down the porch steps and across the snow in the front yard.

Shivering from head to toe, she knew she needed to get out of the night air and back to bed, for Joshua’s sake. She read the letter one more time, then lifted her eyes to the sky. The air was bitterly cold as she lifted the letter high above her head, as if offering it to God. Before she could consciously decide to let it go, a swirl of wind scooped it from her hand; she watched it spin above her head, higher and higher, silently praying that her words would make it all the way to heaven, to God. And that He would hear her.

She walked back to the house, careful not to slip or do anything that could harm the life she carried inside of her.

When she opened the door, her eyes rounded and she gasped.

“What are you doing out there?” Levi rubbed his eyes as he walked toward her. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” He gently grabbed her shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

Danielle stared into his loving, kind eyes. “I—I just—” Tears started again, but something besides sadness made the tears flow down her cheeks, a feeling she didn’t think she’d ever had before. “I think I just gave it all to God.”

“What?” Levi rubbed his eyes with one hand and squinted at her like he hadn’t heard her right. “You did what?”

“I gave it all to God.” She leaned up and kissed him. “My past. My future.”

He helped her out of his coat and his boots. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

She smiled. “I’m better than okay. So much better, Levi. I can feel God’s love.”