by Lynne Hinton
“No, just the church.”
Marion knitted her eyebrows and waited for more.
“For Margaret.” She hesitated to see if Marion would remember her conversation about her parishioner. “The one with cancer.”
“You did this by yourself?” She got up from her seat and sat down next to Charlotte and rubbed her on the top of her head, something everybody seemed to want to do.
Charlotte shook her head. “No, it was sort of a group decision.” She sat back on the sofa. “Seemed like the right thing to do at the moment.”
Marion returned to her seat slowly and sat down. “Does it still seem like the right thing now?”
Charlotte thought for a minute. She wondered if there had been a hint of disapproval in Marion’s voice. But then she realized that was not her therapist’s style, so she simply thought about the question.
When it had happened, when Beatrice had started cutting her own hair, Charlotte had felt embarrassed for her and thought she would cut hers as well, just so the older woman wouldn’t have done something so drastic by herself. It would be an act of sympathy for Beatrice more than for Margaret, because Charlotte wouldn’t be able to watch her parishioner stand boldly alone. That was simply how she was and she knew that about herself. Even though she had thought it was a lovely act of solidarity to stand with Margaret in her sickness, she was mainly going to do it for Beatrice.
Then, when Beatrice had handed the preacher the scissors and she had started cutting, cutting and remembering, she realized that she was engaging in this act for herself. She really wanted to shave her head. She had not known how to explain it except to say that she wanted to share in a friendship with Margaret and with Beatrice; and she wanted to mark a date for herself, ritualize a beginning when she would demonstrate a letting go of some things in her life, a moment, a day, when she would try to start again. A life, a new life of something more than just survival, a life of health and courage and freedom. That just as Margaret was making decisions to take care of herself, to fight disease and overcome cancer, Charlotte was making a decision to take care of herself, to be more patient with herself, to ease up a bit.
She turned to Marion to answer her question about whether or not she still thought the shave was the right thing. “Absolutely,” she said with great resolution. “I like the cleanliness of it. I think it adds a new dimension to me.”
“And what dimension might that be?” Marion asked.
“Smoothness. Roundness. Nothing hidden.” She liked hearing herself say such things.
“Is this a possible dimension for you?” Marion was curious if anything had changed for the young woman.
“You know, I don’t know. I like to think it is. But I know myself. I know nothing has ever been that easy.” Charlotte folded her hands in her lap.
“But I feel better since I did it. I feel…” She paused. “I don’t know, clearheaded, or something.” Then she realized the irony of her description.
Marion was impressed. The difference in her client was small but noticeable.
Charlotte continued. “I don’t understand a lot of things. I don’t know how to have faith or keep faith or grow faith. I don’t think that I’m much of a pastor. I don’t know who God is or how God is or sometimes even if God is; and I don’t really seem to understand my place in the world.”
She reached up and ran her hand across her slick, bald head. “But today,” she said with a great deal of confidence, “today I’m okay with not understanding any of those things. Today, all I know is that I got a head that’s shaped like a question mark, I’m lucky enough to have some very good people in my life, and I have spent way too much time wrestling with things.”
Charlotte took in a breath. “And that’s all I know.”
She turned to Marion, who was smiling at her. “Does that make sense?”
“Naming what you know is a powerful place to start,” the older woman answered. “And that’s a powerful place to go back to when you get all tangled up.” She paused.
“Naming what you know.” The young minister said it like a mantra.
They spent the last forty minutes talking about Charlotte’s idea of fun and what she wanted to add to her life. They talked about her father and whether she felt it might be a good time to visit. They talked about Margaret and cancer and the cruel lessons that are learned in illness. And they ended their session the way they had for the previous three appointments, a clasping of both hands as they stood at the door and a reminder from Marion to Charlotte to concentrate on what she had learned and then to let it go.
The young pastor stopped at the garden on her way out and sat down on the bench. The sun warmed her head, and she drew in a long and delightful breath. “I know friendship,” she said in a strong and rooted voice, thinking of the women in her church. “I know that.” And then she got up and drove to the other side of town.
When she arrived at the doctor’s office, the others were already there. They stood in a small circle in the waiting room, their heads small and pale. Charlotte came in and stood near them, feeling their nervousness, their anxiety about what was about to happen.
They took turns holding Margaret’s hand; and when Margaret’s name was called, much to the surprise of the nurse who had asked for her, all of them proceeded together down the hall, following her through the door of the second room on the right.
Four baldheaded women and one cancer patient crammed themselves into the tiny examination room waiting for the doctor. Margaret had tried to tell them that she didn’t need everybody to go with her. But no one wanted her to face the report by herself, and they couldn’t decide which ones got to go and which ones had to stay behind and wait.
Louise was the one who said they could all fit in the room but that, even if they couldn’t, she was not giving up her space of being with Margaret. “After all,” she had said, “I didn’t shave my head for nothing. I expect to hear what that doctor’s got to say.”
Margaret had then agreed that they could all come but that no one was allowed to speak a word, ask any questions, or cry until she had said it was all right. They had all agreed to be quiet.
When Dr. Morgan walked in, it startled him to see so many people in the little room. For a second he stood in the doorway, acting as if he wasn’t sure what to do. It was, for him, quite a shock to see four women, heads uncovered and shorn, so blatantly hairless. He had several cancer patients under his care, but none of them had he seen in public without a scarf or hat or wig disguising their baldness.
The women had discussed wearing some covering but then had all agreed that they had nothing to hide and that they were, in fact, proud of their choice of solidarity and proud of their naked scalps.
“Well,” Dr. Morgan said as he finally walked in and closed the door behind him, “you all must be the local cancer support group.” He knew there was such a group that met; he had just never encountered them.
“I suppose you can call us that,” Jessie responded, answering for her friends.
“Well, Margaret, it is important to surround yourself with positive energy. Cancer survivors need to hear from one another in order to stay healthy and positive.”
He smiled at the women, then sat down on the stool in front of Margaret. He opened her chart and began to read silently.
Beatrice thought maybe they should tell the doctor that they weren’t cancer patients, just sympathetic friends. But she remembered her promise to be quiet and decided to let him think what he wanted to think.
The four women stood behind Margaret as she sat on the examining table. She had already had her tube removed, already been through one follow-up visit. This was the appointment at which she would hear the surgery pathology report and the recommendations of the doctors on her team for further treatment.
Margaret took in a deep breath, trying to be calm. She had tried to prepare herself for anything, radiation, chemotherapy, more surgery. She was trying to remain open and positive. She felt the closenes
s of her friends and was glad they were with her.
Charlotte reached up and placed her hand on Margaret’s shoulder.
“Well, this is a great report.” Dr. Morgan kept studying it; then he put the folder down and focused on his patient. “I have talked to Dr. Miller; and as your oncologist and general physician, we both agree that with the radiologist’s findings, that at least for now, you don’t need any further treatment.”
Charlotte patted Margaret’s shoulder, letting out a huge sigh.
“There were seventeen lymph nodes taken and not one of them was cancerous. The tumor was small and contained, and I just don’t think we should do anything else at the present time.”
“Thank you, Jesus,” Jessie whispered and clapped her hands.
“Some patients choose to do a few rounds of chemo for a little extra insurance, but at this point, I think it would just be a waste.” He peered back down at the papers in his lap. “We’ll follow you closely for the next year to make sure.”
Margaret took him by the hand. “Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome.”
He turned to the other women. “So, I guess you’ll have one group member who won’t have the same haircut.”
Then he smiled. “I’ll see you in a month and Dr. Miller wants to see you in a couple of weeks. You had your follow-up visit, right?”
Margaret nodded.
“Everything all right with that?”
She nodded again. “He says it’s healing up nicely.”
“Good,” he replied. “Well then, is there anything else you need?”
Margaret shook her head.
“Okay.” He stood up from his seat. “Nice to meet all of you.” And with that, he turned and walked out the door.
The room exploded into screams and laughter. They hugged each other, and all of them fell on top of Margaret and into a great mass of joyful women. It was the miracle they had all prayed for but were afraid to mention. It was the very best report they could have heard. And they pulled together and then apart and jumped and danced about, all in a fit of sheer pleasure.
The women were so completely overjoyed that it took a while before anyone thought of anything other than the perfect news. They luxuriated in the word, relishing the moment. Finally, after a few minutes, Louise understood what else this visit meant. Margaret wasn’t going to lose her hair. She froze in the thought while the others continued to celebrate.
“Beatrice Newgarden Witherspoon!” she suddenly yelled. “I cannot believe that you talked us into shaving our heads! I cannot believe that I let you talk me into shaving my head!” Then she reached over, trying to grab Beatrice.
“Somebody better call that doctor back in here because I figure I’m about to strangle you!” And she knocked over the stool and the trash can trying to get to Beatrice.
Beatrice jumped out of the way to the other side of the table, next to the sink. “Somebody help me!” she cried out.
“Wait! Wait!” It was Margaret. She was trying to get in between them without getting too close since she was still sore. “Louise, leave Beatrice alone! She was only trying to help!”
Louise kept straining to grab the other woman, lunging across the table, reaching around Margaret, while Jessie and Charlotte moved out of the way, laughing.
“That’s the whole problem! She’s always trying to help!” She yanked and pulled at the air. “And now I’m baldheaded ’cause she’s always trying to help.”
Jessie shouted, “Oh, Lou, stop, just be glad she only wanted to shave our heads!”
Beatrice scrambled to get away from Louise by dodging her snatching, grabbing fingers and trying to stay behind Margaret. There was a lot of noise, and finally a nurse had to come into the room and ask them all to leave.
Beatrice ran out first, followed closely by Louise. Jessie was behind, trying to restrain them both, while Charlotte and Margaret remained in the room.
“What about you?” Margaret asked her preacher. “You mind being bald?”
Charlotte shook her head and noted herself in the mirror that was on the wall near the door. “Nah, I sort of like it. Makes me look kind of like a monk or something.
“What about you?” she asked Margaret. “You think you might shave just because you feel sorry for us, so you can be one with the rest of us?”
The older woman turned to the preacher. “Not unless somebody’s ready to give up a breast and be one with me. I don’t think so!”
They walked out together and joined the other women in the parking lot. Louise and Beatrice were out of breath from chasing each other. Jessie was standing at the driver’s side with the door open.
“Well, what shall we do after hearing this great news?” Jessie was the one to ask.
“I think an ice cream sundae is the perfect treat,” Margaret replied.
“I know just the spot,” Jessie said as she got into the car, “a great place to go after mammograms and doctor visits.”
Margaret smiled. “Or just to honor life,” she added, remembering the last time she had gone to the restaurant with her friend, the light and hopeful conversation they had shared, the cool surprise of ice cream on her tongue.
Jessie stuck her arm out the window, raising her hand in the air, while the other women climbed in the back of the car. Charlotte took the middle seat to keep Louise and Beatrice, who were still bickering, separated. Margaret sat in the front.
And the women drove out of the parking lot and out past a hill of gardens. And the earth, teeming with silent seeds and full-fisted bulbs, crept outside itself to witness the noisy celebration of women well on their way, sowing life.
THE GARDENER’S PRAYER
I drop a seed into the earth
I dare not think it’s mine
I cover it. I water it.
I pray the sun will shine.
I build a fence around it
To guard from wandering feet
I cushion it with straw and hay,
Protecting it from heat.
And every day I stand and ask
Will heaven see my gift?
Is it deep enough and warm enough?
Will God pass by and lift
The life that rests within that seed?
The faith desired to grow?
I wait. I pray. I hope. I cheer.
And one day soon, I’ll know.
Welcome Back to Hope Springs!
Now that you’ve met Beatrice, Charlotte, Louise, Jessie, and Margaret, you can get to know them better through the Hope Springs trilogy. Friendship Cake, the bestselling first book in the series, and Forever Friends, the third installment, are available at your local bookstore now.
For ideas for your own book club, as well as tidbits and advice from the ladies of Hope Springs and from Lynne Hinton herself, please make sure to visit www.LynneHinton.com.
Hope Springs Reader’s Guide
QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION
1. Lynne Hinton has stated that her grandmother, to whom the book and the opening poem are dedicated, taught her to garden. Is there anyone in your life who taught you to love the earth? What does gardening mean to you?
2. Charlotte realizes that she doesn’t have anything to offer her suicidal parishioner, Nadine. What do you consider an appropriate pastoral response to a person who attempted suicide?
3. The doctor is concerned about his patient Margaret when they discuss the findings from her mammogram. He wonders “what kind of support systems she had, what gave her purpose, and how well she could fight trouble.” What are the resources you think a person needs when facing an illness?
4. Charlotte decides to see a therapist. What are your thoughts about a minister going into counseling?
5. Jessie discusses her desire to move from Hope Springs, her hometown. Have you ever desired to live in a place other than where you live? Where would you choose to move and why?
6. Marion, Charlotte’s therapist, asks the young pastor to tell how she thinks of God. How do you
think of God? How comfortable are you with a feminine image of God?
7. Margaret, Louise, and Beatrice discuss what makes a woman, a woman. What are your thoughts about what distinguishes a woman from a man? Is it physical or emotional?
8. In order for Nadine to begin to heal regarding her loss she must forgive herself for what she considered her responsibility in the accident that killed her daughter. How does a person learn to forgive themself? What helps in encouraging the forgiveness of oneself?
9. Jessie realizes her fears that James will leave her again. Are you surprised that she took him back when she did? How does a couple who has separated and come back together regain the trust that was lost?
10. Why do you think the women decided to shave their heads? What displays of empathy and friendship have you experienced in your life? How important is friendship in facing illness?
11. Jessie and James decide to take a trip to Africa. What trip have you always wanted to take? Where would you go if you could go anywhere?
12. Nadine decides that she wants to keep the spirit of Brittany alive by continuing to be involved in the things the little girl enjoyed, to love as she had loved. What ways have you heard that people keep the spirit alive of those who have died?
13. How is gardening a metaphor for life and death?
14. How do Bea’s Botanical Bits address life? Are any relevant to your life?
15. After shaving her head, Jessie remembers her mother’s insistence on having neat hair. In her conversation with James, she remembers her childhood trauma of straightening and washing and caring for her hair. Did you ever have fights with your mother about your hair? Why are hairstyles and length of hair such issues for women?
16. During Charlotte’s last session with Marion she was supposed to discuss plans she had made to bring fun into her life. What “fun” would you add into your life if this was your assignment?
17. Charlotte confesses during a session to Marion that she doesn’t know a lot about faith; but that for that day, at least, she was comfortable in the unknowing. How much of faith is the acceptance of not understanding God?
18. Marion confirms that naming what you do know is a powerful tool for the spiritual journey. Charlotte knows friendship. What do you know?