1 Peter 1 tells us:
In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish . . . In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the goal of your faith, the salvation of your souls.
As my husband and I have gone through a time of difficulty recently, these words from the Bible give us great comfort and help us realize that the most agonizing things we might suffer here on earth are nothing compared to the joy we will experience when we see Jesus face to face. This is a truth that can set us free. Until that day, as I face the trials of this world, I hope my faith may be proved genuine. That when people look at my face, instead of the stress lines, pinched forehead, and eyes red from crying that I see in the mirror, others will simply see the joy of Christ shining through me.
Deborah Raney
July 28, 2009
Discussion Questions
1. In Almost Forever, Bryn Hennesey foregoes sleep to stay up and play cards with Charlie, a homeless man, because “she knew the real truth—he was lonely. Just needed someone to sit with him.” When have you felt lonely and needed someone to simply sit with you? Was that wish fulfilled in a surprising way? If so, how? How can you see past surly behavior to what someone is really thinking and feeling? How can such knowledge put others’ behavior toward you in perspective?
2. When Adam’s firefighting team shows up at the shelter, Bryn is caught. She knows he doesn’t like her working there, and she’s worried about her husband finding out. Have you and a loved one ever disagreed strongly about something one of you wished to do—even if that something was a good thing (such as Bryn’s volunteering at the shelter)? How did you work it out? What lesson(s) did you learn?
3. Bryn “felt numb, unwilling to let her mind function, for fear it would reveal a truth she could not bear.” If you were Bryn, standing there watching the homeless shelter burn into a charred skeleton, knowing there were people inside, and wondering if you were responsible, what would you be thinking? Feeling? How would you respond outwardly?
4. In the beginning of Almost Forever, Bryn is annoyed and frustrated by her husband’s control of her. “Since the day they’d started thinking seriously about having a baby, Adam had gone overboard worrying about her. If the sidewalks were slick, he walked her to the car. If she got out a ladder to change a lightbulb, he jumped in and did it for her. He’d about come unhinged when she got a speeding ticket a couple of months ago . . .” How does Bryn’s thinking about Adam’s treatment of her change throughout the story?
5. When Garrett is at the funeral, he realizes “he would just have to find some way to go on without the woman he’d loved for as long as he could remember.” Have you loved—and lost (whether physically or emotionally)—someone dear to you? If so, how have you handled that loss? What, if anything, has changed from the initial time of your loss to now? How can thinking long-term help in times of loss? Share a story, if you have one.
6. Have you ever left a candle burning without meaning to? Disabled a smoke alarm? Left a child unsupervised for a minute too long, like Garrett, or perhaps, like Jenna, maxed out your credit cards? How does the story of Almost Forever put even such small acts of irresponsibility into a different light? How can small decisions influence all of life?
7. “We just have to trust God even when we can’t understand why things happen the way they do. God loves us and is with us, even—maybe especially—in the hardest times,” Bryn tells her friend Jenna.
Jenna’s response? “I don’t know how you can say that, Bryn. After everything that happened. You say God’s with us, but where was He when Zach and Adam were trapped in that building? If He’s so all-powerful, why didn’t He stop that fire from starting in the first place? Why did He let that homeless guy get away? You can’t have it both ways. Can you?”
Do you tend to agree more with Bryn or Jenna? Why? How does your view of God influence your thoughts and actions—and entire lifestyle?
8. Bryn continues to rack her brain for that “elusive memory. Blowing out a candle was like turning out a light or unplugging the curling iron before you left for work. You did those things without even thinking . . . That had to be why she couldn’t seem to come up with a lucid memory.” Have you ever lost a moment? Not been able to remember doing something—like locking your door before you left for work or whether or not you mailed a bill? What were the consequences, if any?
9. When at last Bryn knows that she is the one responsible for the fire, she says she is ready to pay for her crime. But her father insists that she hire an attorney. If you knew you were guilty of a crime, would you hire an attorney? Why or why not? Do you think it would have been acceptable for Bryn to try to avoid the penalty for what she’d done, knowing it was an accident?
10. “There wasn’t a prison dark enough or a sentence long enough for Zeke Downing as far as he [Garrett] was concerned.” Yet, when he finds out that the person has been caught, he feels no joy—only a numbness. How is revenge “sweet”? How is it not like you thought it would be? (Explain, using a story from your own experience.)
11. Bryn writes each of the victims’ family members an apology note. If you were her, would you have done that? Turned yourself in and written apology notes to the families? Why or why not?
Have you ever been asked to forgive something of the magnitude of Bryn’s mistake? If you were one of the victims’ family members, how would you respond to receiving such a letter? Would you be able to forgive? Why or why not? And if so, what would that forgiveness look like?
12. Bryn’s biggest worry is disappointing her father (and also causing him to have a heart attack with the stress). Whom might you have disappointed by the way you’ve lived your life? By the decisions you’ve made? Are there ways in which you could still make restitution?
13. Did you expect Bryn and Garrett’s relationship to move forward so quickly? Why or why not? Do you think this was good for their grieving of their spouses in the long run, or not? Do you think their youth played a factor in the length of their grieving? What about the fact that their spouses died under identical circumstances? Can one person “replace” another, in your experience? Explain.
14. Have you ever felt betrayed by someone you loved and/or trusted? What happened? Was that the whole story or only part of the story? How can you lay the matter to rest—either in your own mind, or between you and that person?
15. Do you think it’s possible to write a new ending to your story, as Bryn and Garrett are in the process of doing by the end of the book? Why or why not?
16. “It’s sad that in a town this small we would need a shelter,” Bryn says.
“And that’s just it. I think the people who are opposed to reopening the shelter have the idea that if we don’t open a shelter, the homeless will just go away. But it doesn’t work that way. ‘The poor you will always have with you . . . , ’” Garrett replies, quoting John, chapter 2, in the Bible.
Susan Marlowe gathers together the grieving families and puts a new challenge in front of them—to do something with their pain. To help the city see that their town needs a homeless shelter for people like Charlie . . . and, yes, even for people like Zeke Downing.
How do you view the homeless? If you saw a homeless person on a street, what would you do? say? think? Has meeting Charlie Branson through this story made a difference? If so, how will you, like Susan and Bryn and Garrett, act on that difference?
About the Author
DEBORAH RANEY dreamed of writing a book since the summer she read all o
f Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Little House books and discovered that a little Kansas farm girl could, indeed, grow up to be a writer. After a happy twenty-year detour as a stay-at-home wife and mom, Deb began her writing career. Her first novel, A Vow to Cherish, was awarded a Silver Angel from Excellence in Media and inspired the acclaimed World Wide Pictures film of the same title. Since then her books have won the RITA Award, the HOLT Medallion, and the National Readers’ Choice Award, and she is a two-time Christy Award finalist. Deb enjoys speaking and teaching at writers’ conferences across the country. She and her husband, artist Ken Raney, make their home in their native Kansas and love the small-town life that is the setting for many of Deb’s novels. The Raneys enjoy gardening, antiquing, art museums, movies, and traveling to visit four grown children and small grandchildren who live much too far away.
Deborah loves hearing from her readers. To email her or to learn more about her books, please visit www.deborahraney.com or write to Deborah in care of Howard Books, 216 Centerview Dr., Suite 303, Brentwood, TN, 37027.
A bonus excerpt from
Forever After,
the second book in
the Hanover Falls series
by Deborah Raney
1
Thursday, November 1
Lucas Vermontez clutched the mask to his face and forced out a measured breath. His air pack fed a steady line of filtered, compressed air, but the thick wall of smoke in front of him carried him to the brink of claustrophobic madness.
He sucked in oxygen and exhaled again. He could not panic! Standing statue-still in the smoky darkness, he strained to discern the human voices he was sure he’d heard mere seconds earlier. But his helmet and hood created their own white noise and no sound pierced them save the roar of the fire.
The concrete beneath his feet shuddered and an explosion rocked the building. He dropped down on all fours, scrambling for protection from the debris that rained down on him. Beside him, Molly Edmonds went down, eyes wild behind her mask. She quickly regained her feet, motioning wildly behind them toward the entrance they’d come in.
In the aftermath of the explosion, the pipes overhead trembled and several beams bowed beneath the weight of the building.
They didn’t stand a chance if the structure collapsed. He and his comrades were in the belly of the beast––the basement of the former hospital that now housed a homeless shelter––with three stories rising above them.
“Go!” He motioned Molly out, his own voice ringing in his ears.
She scrambled ahead of him, hunkered low trying to stay beneath the wall of smoke.
Lucas sent up a prayer that they’d gotten everybody out. His father, the station captain, had radioed moments ago that all but one of shelter’s residents were accounted for. He’d ordered the crews to evacuate, and had sent Lucas and Molly in to search for the missing man.
It always filled him with pride to hear Pop’s commanding voice. Manny Vermontez was the best fire captain Hanover Falls had ever had––and that wasn’t just the opinion of a proud son. Pop had worked hard to get where he was, and the whole family––the whole town––was proud of him, even if it sometimes caused conflict at home. Ma swore her prematurely graying hair came from having a husband, and now a son, who put their lives on the line almost daily.
“Lucas!”
He spun at the sound of his father’s voice. Not on the two-way like he expected, but inside the building––down here.
“Dad?” He turned back, looking for Molly. He strained to see into the thick smoke. “Molly!”
She must have gone ahead to the entrance. Good. She’d make it out okay. But what was Pop doing down here? “Pop? Where are you?”
Nothing. Station 1 must not be here yet. And somebody must still be in the building for Pop to leave the control engine.
The smoke had banked downward now and he had no choice but to crawl on his belly, commando-style. He still had air, but everything in him told him to get out. Now. But what if his dad was down here?
The building groaned and shuddered.
“Lucas!”
There it was again. He rolled over on his back and propped himself on his elbows, trying desperately to discern which direction the shout had come from. He listened for a full minute but heard only the deep roar of the fire overhead.
He started belly-crawling again, but in the orange-black he couldn’t remember which way he’d been headed. He needed to follow the sound of Pop’s voice. Pop would lead him out. But which way had they come in? Everything around him looked the same. Panic clawed at his throat again.
Once more, he thought he heard the voice. Weaker this time, but he didn’t think he was imagining things. The old-timers told stories about hearing voices, seeing things––hallucinations––in the frantic moments where a man hung between life and death. But he wasn’t in full panic mode, and he knew his father’s voice. He crawled deeper into the blackness, forearm over forearm in the direction of the voice, grateful for the heavy sleeves of his bunker coat. But he heard nothing now. Nothing except the raging fire and the ominous creak of beams above his head.
Lucas stopped again and sniffed the air, smelling the unique odor the air pack gave off, but something else, too. Something had changed.
A new sound filtered through his helmet. Was that the clanging of engines? A crew from Station 1 had been requested. That must be them outside. The sound was coming from behind him. He’d been heading deeper into the building.
He reversed his direction. Thank God for those engines. Their clamor would guide him out. The taut thread of panic loosened a bit. Help was on the way.
“Pop?” he shouted. “You there?” He waited for a reply before moving forward. His air supply seemed thinner now, and the smoke choked him. He couldn’t stay down here much longer. He would have sold his soul for a two-way radio right now.
If he somehow lost his way, he prayed Molly would let them know he was still down here. At that moment, a faint glimmer of light caught his eye. With renewed energy, he scrambled toward the light. The voices of his fellow firefighters drifted to him. He crawled faster.
“Hey! It’s Vermontez! Lucas is out! Tell the chief!”
Lucas collapsed on the damp concrete outside and felt strong arms help him to his feet. He stripped off his mask and hood, gulping in the sooty air. “Where’s Pop? Where’s my dad?”
“He went in after you!” Molly Edmonds yelled. “You didn’t see him down there?” She jogged back toward the building.
“Anybody seen the captain?” someone yelled. “Where’s Manny?”
Yanking his headgear back on, Lucas stumbled to his feet and followed Molly.
He heard the men shout for them to come back, but he didn’t care. His father was in that inferno looking for him.
Molly disappeared into the mouth of the building and he followed. A split second later, another explosion rocked the earth. Oh, dear Lord! No!
Lucas scrambled for the entrance, but it had disappeared. Something grabbed on to him in the darkness. He clawed at the rubble around him, but he couldn’t move. His legs went numb. Something must have pinned him in. He heaved against the weight on his calves and searing pain sliced into his thigh. He tried to move again, but the pain robbed him of breath. He found a crumb of comfort in the fact that he still had feeling in his legs.
“My dad’s down there!” His voice was raspy from the smoke. He couldn’t seem to get enough air to propel his words. “Help! Somebody get down there!”
The wail of sirens drowned his cries, and everything faded into blackness.
One year later
Lucas jerked awake, sitting straight up in bed. He put a palm to his racing heart, then wiped a fine film of perspiration from his forehead. Outside his bedroom windows, sirens wailed in the distance. Or was that only part of the dream?
He stilled to listen and heard only the quiet rustle of his bed sheets, and the rhythmic chook chook chook of the lawn sprinklers in the back yard. Through the haze
of sleep, he eased his heavy legs over the side of the bed and reached for his cane. It felt like an extra appendage after all these months.
Before pity could seize him, he forced his eyes to the corner where the folded wheelchair was parked, and beside it an aluminum walker. He murmured a prayer of gratitude––more from habit than sincerity. It could be worse.
His bedroom door nudged open a few inches and Lucky slinked through the opening, purring loudly enough to be heard across the room. Lucas clicked his tongue and the large tom tiptoed over last night’s dirty laundry. Lucas ran his hand over the silver gray fur.
He’d adopted Lucky––then a nameless kitten––two years ago after rescuing him from the ruins of a burned-out warehouse on the outskirts of the Falls.
He hobbled into the bathroom, with Lucky trailing him. His physical therapists––and his mother––had tried to talk him into getting rid of Lucky, worried the cat would trip him up. But Lucky was one of the few bright spots in his life these days. Depressing thought. He wasn’t about to get rid of one of the few friends who’d stood by him through it all.
He heard his mother rattling dishes in the kitchen. Any minute, she’d be in to badger him to eat a breakfast he wasn’t hungry for.
He bent over the sink and splashed cold water on his face, waiting for the nausea to hit him, as it had every morning since that awful night. The sick feeling obliged him, coming in waves as the icy water shocked him awake. Pop is dead. Why could that thought crush his heart all over again with each new day?
Because Pop had died searching for him. And it was starting to look like Lucas Vermontez wasn’t worthy of being found.
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