Miracle in Music City

by Natalie Grant

  “If they’re here for a meal, they definitely need some help, one way or the other.” Mom pointed to a side door. “Others, who are already inside, stay here at the shelter, at least for now, until they’re able to afford their own place to live.”

  “Then why doesn’t everyone stay here?” Maddie asked. “So no one has to sleep outside?”

  “There are only so many beds,” Mom said. “But that’s one of the things we’re trying to do with our benefit. Some of the money will go to buying more food, so people can continue to have warm meals. And some will go toward creating space for more temporary housing.”

  “Will we raise enough so they’ll all have somewhere to sleep?” Lulu eyed the line of people.

  “I wish we could, sweetheart,” Mom said. “Homelessness is a big problem. Not just because we need more space, but also because many people aren’t ready to ask for help.”

  Maddie’s stomach growled. She’d only had time for one piece of toast that morning, and since they hadn’t stayed for recess, she’d missed her morning snack. But she was only a little bit hungry—missed-snack hungry. What would it feel like to wake up to a completely empty stomach, and then to have to choose whether to ask someone for food or go hungry? Every single person in that line had to stand on the street for everyone to see.

  “How do they decide who gets to stay at the shelter, then?” Mia asked. “If they can’t help everyone?”

  “They keep a waiting list,” Mom said. “And while people are at the shelter, they are given their own roles so they can contribute. One of the first steps is for people to understand they each have gifts to give, no matter what might have gone wrong for them. The staff also helps shelter residents work toward finding jobs. They offer classes, training, and counseling. Once a family is able to move to their own apartment, space opens up for someone new.” Mom checked her watch. “It’s time for us to go inside. These are all such great questions, girls. I’m sure you’ll have more after lunch, and on the way to the Opry, we can talk about this more. Okay?”

  The girls nodded. The minute Mom opened the door, they were swept inside by a woman who seemed to fill the whole room.

  “Welcome, ladies,” she said, shaking each of their hands.

  Her hands were gentle and warm. She wore a flour-streaked apron that had a slight scent of vanilla and cinnamon. She’d braided and wrapped her salt-and-pepper hair around her head.

  “Excuse my appearance. Rachelle and I just finished baking a batch of snickerdoodles for today’s crowd—her family recipe, and delicious, I must say,” she said. “Gloria, we’re so grateful for all that you and your team are doing for Third Street. And girls, I hear that you’re going to sing at the benefit too? What a special gift you’re giving to support our community.”

  “It’s our Opry debut!” Lulu said.

  “Denise,” Mom said. “I don’t know if you heard that our most valuable donation—Earl Eldridge Jr.’s guitar—has gone missing. We’re so disappointed.”

  Denise shook her head and took Mom’s hand again. “If there’s one thing I learned during my time as a resident of Third Street, and over and over again after working here for all these years, it’s that God works in mysterious ways. Sometimes it’s hard to see why one thing or another happens, and then down the road, wham! You understand. And other times, well . . . you keep on waiting. But for now, let’s not be disappointed. Let’s not worry, but in all things, give thanks.”

  “Amen,” Mom said.

  “You were a . . .” Maddie broke off her question as she realized she had no polite way to ask whether Denise meant she had once been homeless. It was hard to imagine this full-of-life, joyful woman huddling under a cardboard box.

  “After I went back to school and made some big changes in my life,” Denise said, “I decided to come back to Third Street. During my stay here, I learned that I did have something important to give, and I wanted to help others discover that truth too. People think the hardest part of being poor is not having things that other people have. Actually, the worst thing is forgetting that you have something worthy to offer. If you think you’re worthless, it’s easy to give up.”

  Maddie thought about this for a moment, realizing that up to this point, she’d only been thinking about raising money to help the people at Third Street. But, maybe money wasn’t the most important thing they needed. Butterflies filled her stomach at the thought of going out and serving food. What if she said or did the wrong things?

  Mia reached over and squeezed her hand, and Maddie realized her sister must be thinking similar thoughts.

  “Now, let’s head on into the kitchen so we can set you up before the crowd descends,” Denise said, and then grinned at the girls. “How do you ladies feel about hairnets?”

  “Hair whats?” Lulu asked.

  Denise burst out laughing. “Leave your coats here in this closet, and then this way, ladies! Come on through here.”

  Dad had said they could warm people’s hearts, but how? Well, probably by smiling and listening and treating them with respect. And maybe Lulu could make them laugh a little too.

  EIGHTEEN

  We absolutely have to wear these things?” Mia asked for the third time, tugging at her hairnet’s elastic band.

  Maddie fiddled with her elastic too, trying to arrange it so it didn’t feel so tight around her forehead. Lulu pulled her hairnet down over her chin.

  “Lulu.” Mom looked so funny with her hair all stuffed up in the net.

  Maddie was used to seeing her sisters looking silly. Especially Lulu, with the wild outfits she sometimes chose, but Mom always looked like . . . Mom. Whether she was in her high heels or wide-brimmed floppy hats or both, Mom always had that Gloria Glimmer style. Hairnets were, well, not so Gloria Glimmer.

  Lulu sighed and returned the net to its proper place. Denise handed out aprons too. The aprons were all adult-sized, so they had to wrap the apron strings round and round to make them work. Maddie and Mia’s aprons touched the floor. Lulu’s dragged so much that Denise suggested they fold it in half and try again.

  “Let’s all wash our hands now,” Denise said. “And after that, no touching your hair or faces. If you do, you’ll need to come back here and wash up again.”

  They took turns squeezing soap onto their palms, and washed between their fingers and under their fingernails. Then, they pulled on plastic gloves.

  Denise gave them stations right next to each other at the end of the line. Mom had tongs and a giant bowl of veggie-filled salad. Maddie was in charge of ladling creamy tomato soup into bowls. Mia had crunchy rolls to hand out, and Lulu got to add the final snickerdoodle cookie treat. Denise and Tony, a resident of Third Street, were in charge of the lasagna and pasta options.

  “When you run out,” Denise said, “call on back to Zanne, and she’ll bring you another batch. Any questions before Henry opens the door?”

  “I think we’re set,” Mom said, and then gave the girls a reassuring smile. “You’ll do great.”

  As soon as Henry opened the door, Maddie’s worries evaporated. She didn’t have time to think about anything except for putting soup in bowls.

  “Thank you,” a woman said, causing Maddie to stop and look up. The deep lines around the woman’s eyes didn’t take away from the spark of something . . . what? Happiness? Maddie smiled at the woman, remembering that while handing out soup was her task, what she truly wanted to do was to warm hearts.

  Maddie looked past the woman to the room beyond. The tables were starting to fill up. Rather than being heavy with sadness and gloom—the way Maddie realized she’d been expecting it to be—the room was warm, colorful, and filled with laughter and lively conversation. In fact, as she watched, the warmth spread into her too, making her eyes fill with happy tears. Honestly, it felt like she was the one who was being given the gift.

  “Thank you,” she echoed back, truly grateful that this woman had interrupted her busyness to help her see what was all around her.

&nbs
p; The woman winked at Maddie and then raised a mischievous eyebrow at Lulu. “Snickerdoodles are my favorite.”

  “Give her an extra one,” Maddie whispered to her sister, who slipped an extra cookie onto the woman’s tray.

  The woman beamed at the girls. “Many thanks, girls. Many thanks.”

  After that, Maddie made an effort to look each person in the eyes as they passed in the line. Rather than being a crowd of sad people, she started to see that each person was unique, each had a story. There were people of all ages. Some looked worn down and exhausted, but others bubbled along through the line, joyful and full of thanks.

  “People aren’t the way I thought they’d be,” Mia said quietly to Maddie. “I thought they’d be . . .”

  “Sad?” Maddie said.

  “Yeah, I guess,” Mia said. “And different.”

  Maddie turned her attention back to the line, ready to pour soup into the next bowl. The girl standing across from her wore her pretty black hair straight. This girl had to be about Maddie’s age. Maddie’s hand hovered over the girl’s plate. She’d smiled at people, but hadn’t said anything to anyone. Now, it seemed she should say . . . something.

  “I’m Maddie,” she said, setting a bowl on the girl’s plate.

  The girl smiled, and when she did a deep dimple creased her left cheek. “I’m Ruby.”

  “Want a snickerdoodle, Ruby?” Lulu asked.

  “Are you kidding?” Ruby said. “Yeah, for sure. Rachelle’s snickerdoodles are the best around.”

  “So you come here a lot?” Maddie asked.

  Mia elbowed her, and Maddie realized her question had sounded strange, as though this were a restaurant, not a homeless shelter.

  “I mean . . .”

  “We’re staying here at Third Street right now.” Ruby gestured to a woman and little boy a few people back in line. The woman was deep in conversation, so she hadn’t seemed to notice the hold up in the line. “My mom, my little brother, and me. My dad refuses to stay with us, but he still comes every day to see us outside after lunch. We’ll get to see him soon.”

  “Ruby,” her mom said. “We should keep moving along.”

  “Right.” Ruby gave the girls another dimpled smile. “Guess I have to go. I heard you might sing today, though. Is that true?”

  “I don’t . . .” Maddie looked at Mia, who shrugged.

  “Well, I love music,” Ruby said, grinning. “So I hope you do!”

  Lulu put a second snickerdoodle on Ruby’s plate too, and then the line started moving again.

  “Mom, are we singing?” Maddie asked.

  “I don’t know,” Mom said. “I think they do sing a bit after everyone eats. Worship songs. We’ll see.”

  NINETEEN

  Zanne kept bringing food, and they kept serving until everyone in the line had their fill. Some even came back for seconds.

  “Some of the people were asking if you wouldn’t mind singing one of your songs for us,” Denise said to Mom. “I realize I’m springing this on you, but would you possibly be willing? It would be such a gift for us.”

  “I’d be happy to sing,” Mom said. “And maybe the girls could sing too. They did a fantastic acapella version of their song the other night at the Opry. What do you say, girls?”

  “Yes, yes, yes!” Lulu said.

  Maddie wished she could be so enthusiastic.

  “Actually, Henry is quite capable on our piano over there,” Denise said. “You’re welcome to sing acapella, but if it’s a song he knows, I’m sure he’d be happy to play.”

  Denise called over the noise of the room that today they would have a special treat. Everyone cheered. Mom and the girls took off their hairnets and aprons and went to the front of the room, where there was a small stage. The girls stood on the side of the stage while Mom conferred with Henry. Then, he played for her while she sang “You Are My All in All,” standing by the piano. When she started on her second time through the chorus, Mom invited anyone in the room who knew the song to sing. Maddie’s eyes teared up as many voices rose up and joined Mom’s, harmonizing and filling the room with sweet music. Maddie scanned the room and found Ruby, her mom, and her little brother. They were all singing with giant smiles on their faces. The lump in Maddie’s throat tightened. Ruby was just about her age, clearly loved to sing, and was like Maddie in so many ways. Except Ruby didn’t have a home to live in.

  Mia slipped her hand into Maddie’s and squeezed. Maddie smiled back and saw that Mia’s eyes were watery too. There was something about a room of people singing in spite of everything—especially singing a praise song—that filled her heart up and made it overflow. If she tried to explain what her heart was so full of, she’d say happiness and possibilities. Maybe the word was hope. Hope, when you didn’t always have enough to eat, when you didn’t even have a place to live . . . it was . . .

  “Beautiful,” Mia whispered.

  “I know,” Maddie agreed.

  “Our turn,” Lulu said, elbowing Maddie in the ribs.

  Sure enough, Mom was motioning them over. She went back to Henry to tap out the tempo of their song. He launched into “This Little Light of Mine,” playing with gusto.

  Maddie didn’t have time to be nervous. They launched into the melody, and it was mid-song before she fully realized what she was doing. By that time, she, Mia, and Lulu were completely in sync, harmonizing, and moving to the music. They caught one another’s eyes every once in a while and beamed. This was . . . fun! Maddie kept right on singing through to the end of the song. The room erupted with applause. Ruby jumped to her feet with everyone else, clapping and even adding a whistle or two.

  “Encore!” someone shouted.

  So, Henry launched into “You Are Awesome in this Place.” Mom joined the girls, and wrapped her arms around them. Everyone sang and sang, until Henry played the final chords.

  Denise gave each of them giant hugs. “Thank you so much, ladies. It has been such a treat for us to have you here with us today.”

  “It’s been a treat for us too,” Mom said.

  Maddie nodded. She hadn’t known what to expect when they came today, but she certainly hadn’t expected to leave feeling more full than when she came. Her stomach had even stopped growling, even though she still hadn’t had her own lunch. It was time to go, but before she left, she caught Ruby’s eye and gave her a small wave. Ruby waved back, her dimple deepening again as she smiled.

  “We have to find that guitar,” Mia said.

  “I know,” Maddie said. “We really, really have to.”

  Back in the front office, they bundled back into coats.

  Mom said, “I’m so proud of you girls.”

  “Do you think we warmed their hearts?” Lulu asked. “Not just their bellies?”

  At this, Maddie’s stomach growled loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. They all burst out laughing.

  “I think so,” Mom said. “And it sounds like it’s time for us to find some lunch ourselves. Everyone ready?”

  “Ready!” Maddie said.

  “Me too,” Mia said.

  “Off to lunch we go!” Lulu announced.

  TWENTY

  Dad met them at the stage door. “How did it go at Third Street?”

  “The girls did a fantastic job, hairnets and all,” Mom said. “And we gave an impromptu concert.”

  “How was that?” Dad asked.

  “Awesome!” Lulu said, throwing her arms up to emphasize just how awesome it had been.

  “How about for you, Maddie?” Dad asked. “I know you’ve been a little worried about Friday night.”

  “I had fun,” she said. “Lots of fun, actually.”

  “Did Charles find anything on the tapes?” Mia asked. “We have to find that guitar, Dad. Did you know there are kids at the shelter? And Mom said there are people on a wait list—they don’t have enough room for everyone who needs a place to stay. We have to do all we can to help.”

  Dad shook his head. “Unfortunately, the
footage didn’t give us anything to follow up on. While there were a lot of people coming in and out of the building, no one stood out as being out of place, Charles said.”

  “And he watched all the footage?” Mia asked. “Every single minute of it?”

  “Well, like he said, there was a lot of time between when we last saw the guitar and when we discovered it missing. There are at least ten cameras around the building, so that’s a lot of footage. But I believe Charles and his team did their best, Mia. We just have to pray whoever took the guitar has a change of heart.”

  “Maybe we should look for clues?” Mia said.

  Mom put her arm around Mia. “I know you want to be detectives, but it’s important for us to focus on the concert. I understand why you’d want to raise as much money as possible, girls, especially after meeting all the people at Third Street today. But your song is a gift for the benefit too. Let’s put our attention on what we can do—singing our very best—and we’ll pray that God will work on the heart of the person who took the guitar. Like Denise said today, God works in mysterious ways.”

  “Miss Julia is waiting in the Women of Country Music room for you, girls,” Dad said. “You can leave your coats there, and then come out onto the stage right away so we can check our sound levels.”

  Maddie could see that Mia wanted to stop and ask Charles questions as they passed his desk. “Maybe we’ll have time later.”

  “I know it’s important to trust God to work things out,” Mia said. “But shouldn’t we also do something? It feels wrong to just hope that it will all be okay.”

  “Hope what will be okay?” Miss Julia asked, hearing the last of this.

  “Mia wants to find the guitar,” Lulu said.

  “We all do,” Maddie said. “Miss Julia, there was this girl at the shelter today, Ruby, and she was, I don’t know . . . just like us.”

  “Not exactly like us.” Mia pulled off her coat and draped it over a chair.

  “No, but she’s our age, and she likes to sing. When I think about people who don’t have homes, I think about people like that man who shouted at us outside the Opry. Grown-ups. People I wouldn’t know how to talk to. But Ruby was different, and I just . . . I don’t know.” Maddie took off her coat too, and piled both hers and Lulu’s on top of Mia’s.