Once a Thief

Eight

The storm that beat against the house, sending sheets of rain against the library windows, seemed but an echo of the storm in Danielle’s mind and heart. What was she going to do? She didn’t want to be a thief. It had seemed to her that someone, probably her mother’s Jesus, had kept her and her brother from such a fate. But that must have been her imagination. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be in the predicament she was in now.

Surely there had to be a way. An honest, moral way to earn some money. Of course the fleeting thought she’d had about the theater was ridiculous. The play practices Sutton had insisted they perform didn’t count. She loved to sing, but she had no idea if she was any good. Probably not.

Angrily, she swiped the tears from her eyes. Crying wouldn’t help. But a sob like a hiccup erupted from somewhere deep in her chest.

“What in the. . . ?” Mrs. Parker had opened the door and stood staring at Danielle for a moment. Then she glided across the room, and Danielle found herself in the elderly woman’s comforting arms. “My dear, what has upset you so?”

Danielle drew a sharp breath. “It’s. . .it’s nothing, ma’am. Nothing to worry yourself about.”

“Nonsense. Something has you very distraught. Perhaps I can help.”

Danielle’s mind grasped at the first thought that came to her mind and she blurted out, “I was thinking about my brother. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, my poor girl, there’s nothing to be sorry for. Of course you’re sad about your brother’s death. That’s only natural.”

Danielle groaned inwardly. She’d told a passel of lies to everyone and had no idea how to get out of them without getting herself and Jimmy thrown into jail. How could she have been so stupid? She’d never get away from Sutton anyway. She probably needed to make her way back there and throw herself on his mercy. But the revolting thought of his wet lips against her neck sent a wave of nausea through her, and she shuddered.

Mrs. Parker’s arm tightened around her, and with her other hand, she smoothed back Danielle’s hair.

Danielle sighed and closed her eyes. But almost immediately she opened them and sat up straight, gently removing herself from the woman’s arms. “You’re very kind, ma’am. I’m afraid I don’t deserve it.”

“But of course you do. Everyone deserves kindness and compassion. And especially a sweet young lady like you.” She patted Danielle’s hand and rose from the sofa. “I do believe the rain has slowed down some. I’m taking food baskets to poor families in my church. Would you like to come with me?”

“To the church?”

“No, to their homes. Although it would be nice if you’d start attending services with us more often.” She peered at Danielle. “I don’t know how much you know about the Lord, dear. But I promise He can help you in your grief. There’s no problem too big or too small for Him.”

“Why would He want to help me? I haven’t done anything for Him.”

A look almost of pity crossed Mrs. Parker’s face, and then she smiled. “He wants to help you because He loves you, dear.”

Did God really love her? Like Mama used to say? In spite of everything? If it was really true, then maybe He had led her here for a reason. Perhaps He had a plan all worked out to help Danielle and her brother.

God, if You’re there, will You show me a way out of this situation?

A tiny glimmer of hope made its way into her heart. Her curls bounced against her shoulders as she jumped up. “Let’s go get those baskets delivered.”

A half hour later, the Kramer carriage pulled to a stop in front of a modest home. Danielle followed Mrs. Parker up the narrow dirt path to the front door.

The lady inside invited them in.

As they sat and visited with Mrs. Foster, Danielle glanced around the small room, nostalgia washing over her. The furnishings were old and the curtains and table coverings mended, but everything was spotlessly clean. Just as her home had been when she was small.

A little girl, not more than three or four, came and stood by Danielle’s chair.

Danielle smiled at the child.

“Is it okay if I touch your hair?”

“My hair? But why?”

“It’s so shiny and I never saw hair that color before.”

“Mildred, don’t be rude to the lady.” Mrs. Foster’s voice was filled with consternation.

Mildred drew her little hand back before it made contact with Danielle’s curls.

“But I don’t mind at all.” Danielle bent down.

The little girl touched her locks and then drew her hand back and giggled.

When they returned to the carriage, Mrs. Parker leaned back and sighed. “They have so little. Bob Foster was thrown from a horse last year. His neck was broken. Fanny does laundry and sewing to make a living for her two children. They manage, but it’s not easy. Yet she never complains and always gives thanks to the Lord for what He provides.”

They visited two more families. Another widow with a child who was very nice then a woman who complained from the moment they stepped through the door.

As they drove home, Mrs. Parker glanced at Danielle. “Don’t think too hard of her, dear. We all react differently to hardship.”

“Yes, ma’am.” But Danielle thought her benefactress was all too kind. Perhaps I’m lacking in compassion.

❧

The little stone chapel nestled between two brick tenement buildings that towered over it. Danielle didn’t remember the church being so small. But then, she’d only been nine years old the last time Mother had brought her here.

Her hand trembled as she opened the door and stepped inside. Would the same minister be here? He’d seemed fairly old to her all those years ago. But, then again, she’d been only a child.

The little sanctuary was unlighted except for the daylight seeping through the front window. Danielle shivered in the cold and shadows and glanced around the room, taking in the rickety benches. The church seemed to be deserted and she sighed, wondering if her venture would be in vain.

The sound of a door opening at the back of the building drew her attention, and relief washed over her as someone entered. “Forgive me, miss. I didn’t know anyone was here. Have you been waiting long?”

Danielle cleared her throat. “No, I came in only a moment ago.”

He walked down the aisle and she saw a young man in everyday workman’s clothing. A janitor, perhaps?

He drew near and stopped in front of her. “I’m Brother Paul, the minister here. May I be of assistance?”

“Oh. You’re the minister?” Oh dear, she hoped the surprise in her voice hadn’t offended him.

Smiling, he nodded. “I don’t suppose I look like one, do I?”

Danielle’s face heated. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“You weren’t rude at all. Now, how may I help you?”

“I. . .I. . .wonder if I could have a moment of your time.” Flustered, she turned. “Of course, I should have made an appointment. I’ll just leave and come another time.”

“Appointments aren’t necessary here, I assure you. And of course I have time for you. Please don’t go. In fact, I’m fairly sure my wife will take me to task if I don’t bring you upstairs for a cup of tea.”

“Upstairs?” Oh dear. How did she know this man in his dockworker’s clothing was a minister at all?

“Yes, we live upstairs in a very modest apartment. It’s best that way, so we can be available if we’re needed.”

“Paul, who is there?” A trilling voice came floating through the door and a young woman stepped through, her eyes laughing. “Oh, I’m sorry. If you’re having a meeting with someone, I’ll just go back up.”

“No, no, my dear. This young lady wishes to speak to me, but we were just in the middle of introductions.” He turned, smiling at Danielle. “I believe you were just about to tell me your name?”

Danielle swallowed and forced herself to relax. “I’m Danielle Grayson. My mother used to bring my brother and me here when we were children.”

In no time, Danielle found herself being ushered up the stairs and into a cozy sitting room.

The minister’s wife brought cups of hot tea and they looked expectantly at Danielle.

“It’s just that. . .” Danielle hesitated, wondering how much to reveal. “You see, my mother used to tell me Jesus loved me and died for me. But I don’t understand what she meant. And I’ve done some things that I’m afraid might keep me from seeing my mother again.”

Something passed through the minister’s eyes and he didn’t answer right away.

“Should I tell you what I’ve done?” Oh God, help me to know what to say without getting Jimmy and me in trouble.

“No, no, you don’t need to tell me anything you don’t wish to tell me. Confessing your sins to me isn’t how you get to heaven.” He picked up a leather-bound Bible from the side table and opened it. “But I can tell you what your mother meant and how you can be sure to see her again.”

Relief hit Danielle like a burst of wind. “Oh, please do.”

“Let me read to you from God’s Word. John 3:16 and 17 says, ‘For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved.’ ”

“Oh. I do believe in Him. I always have. Does that mean I get to go to heaven? Even though I’ve done wrong things?”

“Well, let’s see what else the Bible has to say.” He turned a few more pages. “In 1 John 1:8 and 9, we read, ‘If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.’ ”

“So I do need to confess?”

“Only to Him. Not to me.”

“Oh, He already knows.”

A smile tipped Brother Paul’s lips. “Yes, but we still have to acknowledge our sins to Him.”

“But I’ve done that.”

“Well then, my dear child, you’re forgiven.”

Joy washed over Danielle, so radiant and strong she felt she would burst from the intensity.

“Then He really did save me.” Danielle felt her mouth split into a wide grin.

“Absolutely.”

Danielle left a few minutes later, her heart light and her eyes shining. It was all true. Just like Mama said. Danielle couldn’t wait to tell Mrs. Parker.