“I said, ‘Look. I’m doing the best I can.’
“He said, ‘Well, it’s not good enough. We know what you guys are doing over here. Either you straighten out and make a decent home for your kids, or we’re keeping them. And if you raise a fuss, I’ll just see to it that everything comes out.’
“I didn’t know what to do. When I told Walter, he was really mad. He went over and started threatening my dad, and I guess things got pretty ugly. Somebody called the police, and Walter spent a couple days in jail. Disorderly conduct, they called it. Meanwhile, I could not get my parents to let me take my girls home, and when Walter got out, we had a big fight. I wanted him to get his act together so we could get the girls back, but he said it was no use.”
Mom’s voice choked. She tugged a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her eyes. With difficulty, she continued.
“Several months passed, and we had another baby. I was afraid my parents would find out and take her too. Walter tried to convince them we had changed, but my dad wouldn’t listen. He wouldn’t even let us see the girls.
“We couldn’t do a thing. It was terrible. When Tess was a few weeks old, we packed up and left. We moved around quite a bit, afraid the police were after us, but we finally settled down here so Tess wouldn’t have to keep changing schools. So, that’s what happened.” She stopped, and dropped her gaze to her lap.
An awkward silence followed. I sat quietly, fitting the pieces of the story together. Things that had puzzled me for years finally made sense. I had never dreamed Mom was carrying this much pain.
At last Tom spoke. “So you were both selling back then?”
Mom’s face flushed, and she nodded without looking up. “If it hadn’t been that way, I think I would have left Walter and gotten my girls back.”
“Walter confessed to dealing drugs in the past,” Tom recalled.
“I know. I don’t see why he had to bring it up. For a while there, I thought I was done for. But I guess it happened too long ago for them to do anything about it.”
“Why did you tell us this, Julie?” Tom asked. “It can’t be to clear your character, as you said in the beginning, because it turns out you’re an even worse character than we thought.”
Mom tried to laugh. “I don’t know. Guess I just had to get it off my chest. I blamed Walter for the trouble in our family, and I blamed God too, but I guess I’m as much to blame as him.” She bowed her head in an attempt to hide the tears that slipped down her cheek. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come here.”
“Jesus wants to forgive you,” Patty said. “All you have to do is ask.”
“I don’t know,” Mom said, but more tears ran down her face. She buried her face in her hands.
“Nobody is too bad,” Tom said. “The more sins you have, the more love and forgiveness he offers. You can’t do a single thing to clean yourself up. All you can do is accept what Jesus has done and ask him to save you. Wouldn’t you like to do that?”
Mom was sobbing now. “Yes. Yes, I would. I don’t wanna be like this anymore.” Amid the sobs, she prayed. “Jesus, I’m so sorry.”
She lifted her face with a look of astonishment. “He’s in me! I can feel him!”
“Thank you, Jesus!” Patty exclaimed.
Mom was smiling and crying at the same time. “Wait til Walter hears about this. He’s not gonna believe it!”
I almost couldn’t believe it myself. With her pride and her cynical attitude toward what she called “religion,” Mom was the last person I expected to see praying for salvation. Especially with others present. Only God could have brought it about.
***
The next morning, I awoke to Mom singing in her bedroom. How long had it been since I’d heard her sing? I lay still and listened as the words floated out.
My Jesus, I thank you,
My sins are gone, my life you made new
Now I can sing, I feel so free
My Jesus, I thank you.
It sounded like a hymn, except the words and tune kept changing. Over breakfast, I inquired about it. “What’s that song you were singing this morning? Something about ‘Jesus I thank you.’”
Mom smiled. “It just came to me.”
“I like it,” I said.
Mom poured milk into her bowl of cornflakes, then leaned forward and tugged an envelope from her back pocket. “I guess there’s no reason why you can’t read this now,” she said, and passed it to me.
I slid the card from the envelope and unfolded the paper inside. The letter was written in red ink with a neat hand.
Dear Mom,
I hope this letter finds you. I did a search on the internet only to discover that you aren’t the only person with your name. For a long time I’ve wanted to write and let you know how Megan and I are doing. I guess you’ve probably wondered about us all these years. I sure did about you. Why didn’t you ever come back for us? Grandma said you wouldn’t, but we kept hoping anyway. I know Dad was mean sometimes, and you were always so busy, but I still wish we could’ve stayed together.
I found an article about Dad and his trouble last spring while I was looking for you. How awful! I didn’t know he was into stuff like that. I am curious, did he really become a Christian? How did it all turn out?
Things are going okay for me. I have a job as a salesperson at a furniture store here in Springfield, and Saturday nights I’m usually over at the theater selling tickets. I’m making my way in the world, I guess. Megan is still living at home and helps out there a lot. Grandma has had some health problems and can’t handle all the housework on her own.
I can write more if you like, but I will wait for your reply. I hope I haven’t bothered you with this letter.
Sincerely, Sarah
I folded the letter back into the card. “You wrote back to her, didn’t you?”
Mom shook her head. “I wanted to, but…” Tears fell into her cereal. “I don’t know how to say this. I guess I knew I’d have to tell her the truth, and it just scared me. I mean, what’s she supposed to think? Chances are she’ll hate me.”
She reached for the card and held it in her hands for a long moment. “I guess all I can do is try.”
52
Come on, Tess, sit still.” Janet was trying to French braid my hair so I would look elegant for the evening. I was rebelling.
“It’s just a movie,” I grumbled. “Nobody’s gonna see me in there anyway.”
Ignoring my protests, Janet worked in more layers of hair, then braided it down my back and secured everything with an elastic band.
“There, take a look.”
I stepped to the mirror and studied my reflection. “Hey, not bad. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Janet reached for the purse she’d left on my bed. “Ready to go now?”
I dabbed a bit of powder on my wrists, grabbed a sweater, and said, “Yup.”
“Have fun, girls,” Mom called as we hurried toward the door.
I slipped into the passenger seat of Janet’s car and settled in for the long drive to town. Tomorrow was my sixteenth birthday, and Janet was taking me to see a movie with a few other young people from church. To them it was a simple outing, but for me, it was a dream come true. For the first time in my life, I was going out with friends on a Saturday night. Mom’s only stipulation was that I be home by eleven.
I cracked my window and inhaled the fresh, moist air. Nothing smelled as good as rain and wet earth at the end of a long winter. In a few weeks, I’d be able to plant my garden. I had already ordered the seeds, sneaking in a packet of nasturtiums along with the beans, corn, and squash Mom had authorized. If everything went right, I’d have a garden of little seedlings to show Sarah when she came.
I smiled to myself. Sarah had corresponded with us for some ti
me now. With each letter she opened up more, telling us details about her boyfriend, her new apartment, and her two black Pomeranian puppies she hoped to breed someday. In Mom’s last reply, she had invited her to come up and visit us. The meeting was set for Memorial Day.
“How’s your dad doing? Have you heard from him at all?” Janet’s question broke into my thoughts.
“Yeah, he writes to Mom once in a while. His spelling is atrocious, but otherwise he’s doing okay, I guess.”
“How much longer before he gets out?”
“Three years, maybe three and a half. I don’t know exactly.” I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes. I did not want to think about Walter. Not tonight.
Janet seemed to understand, for she asked no further questions, but instead slipped a tape into the player. Soon the mellow voice of Don Williams filled the little car.
At the theater, Janet’s sister and half a dozen other girls joined us.
“Hey Tess, aren’t you gonna say hi?” asked a voice behind me. I whirled to find myself face to face with Heather. How had she gotten here? We embraced, laughing.
“You should have let me know you were coming,” I said. “You practically scared me to death!”
“I wanted to surprise you. After all, it’s not every day a girl turns sixteen.” She hugged me again. “Come on, let’s get in line.”
After buying tickets and a giant bag of popcorn to share, we all trooped down the hallway to the theater.
“I wish Crystal would’ve come,” I said to Janet as we took our seats. We had both invited her.
Janet shrugged. “Maybe she will next time. I’m just glad you could come.”
I took a handful of popcorn and said, “Me too.”
The movie turned out to be a Christian film about extending forgiveness and grace to those around you, whether or not they deserved it. Although quite entertaining, it also challenged me to consider my own life and relationships. And I realized there was something I needed to do.
As the credits rolled across the screen at the end, I followed Janet and the others down the carpeted ramp to the hallway.
“Hey, anybody wanna go out for ice cream?” suggested one of the girls.
“That sounds fun,” Janet said. “Tess? You in?”
I agreed.
At the ice cream shop, I ordered a chocolate sundae, then sat at the table nibbling and listening to the conversation. Now and then I interjected a comment, but mostly I kept my thoughts to myself. I needed to finish thinking over what I’d learned from the film.
In many ways, the past year had been much more pleasant without Walter. I could go on shutting him out of my life, and no one, not even Walter, would say I was wrong. In fact, the law dictated he had to keep his distance from me until his sentence was served.
Yet I knew the change in him was genuine. Everyone who had dealt with him in the last sixteen months could attest to his good character and Christian testimony. Though I could never completely forget the past, maybe God wanted me to offer him a measure of friendship as a gift.
“Would you mind stopping by the grocery store on the way home?” I asked Janet, as we walked out to her car afterwards. “There’s something I need to pick up.”
“No problem. I need some batteries for my camera anyway.”
While Janet debated between the eight pack and the sixteen pack, I headed for the candy aisle. There in the corner of the bottom shelf, I found what I was looking for – a box of Andes mints. Mom had told me once that it was Walter’s favorite kind of candy.
On impulse, I bent and picked up a second box. I’d ask Mom to include them, along with a short note, in the next care package she sent Walter.
Resources
If you have suffered abuse and would like help or counseling, here are a few resources to get you started.
National Child Abuse Hotline (ChildHelp USA)
1-800-422-4453
http://www.childhelp.org/pages/hotline-home
Provides crisis intervention, information, literature, and referrals to other resources. Calls are anonymous and confidential.
Christian Survivors
www.christiansurvivors.com
Provides support forums and links to resources for survivors of all types of abuse.
Christian books dedicated to healing the wounds in the heart:
For women: Captivating by John and Stasi Eldredge
For men: Wild at Heart by John Eldredge
Connect with the authors at http://www.ransomedheart.com
About the Author
Melissa Wiltrout lives in west-central Wisconsin with her two dogs, an energetic terrier named Daisy and a Sheltie named Chester. During the summer months she keeps busy at the family nursery and landscaping business. Writing is her favorite activity, but she also enjoys relaxing with a good book, playing guitar, breeding goldfish, and gardening.
Connect with Melissa
Blogspot: www.mychroniclesofhope.blogspot.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/catscratcher29
Review this book on Amazon: TESSA on Amazon
Acknowledgements
First of all, thank you to Mom and Dad for putting up with the inconveniences of living with a writer. Thanks for believing in me, even when you couldn’t fathom my compulsion to rewrite and re-edit everything ad nauseam. Thanks for listening, critiquing, and encouraging me.
Thank you to my critique group partners at Western Wisconsin Christian Writers Guild for teaching me to sharpen my writing. I’d still be muddling around on lined paper without that!
Thank you to the talented people at Life Sentence Publishing for turning my manuscript into a book. I especially wish to thank Sheila for patiently answering my endless barrage of punctuation questions.
Most of all, I want to thank my Savior, Jesus, who wrote the true redemption story and signed it in His own blood. My story is but a dim echo of the one He wrote. Thank you, Lord, for your gifts of inspiration, imagination, and language!
www.lifesentencepublishing.com
TESSA – Melissa Wiltrout
Copyright © 2013
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means – electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the publisher.
Scripture quotations taken from the New American Standard Bible®, Copyright © 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation
Used by permission. (www.Lockman.org)
First edition published 2013
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