by Kathy Macias
He paused, as if waiting for someone to respond. Of course, no one did, and Julia waited, curious to hear what the pastor would say.
“In order to answer that question,” he continued, “we have to remember that the Apostle Paul was talking to his young protégé, Timothy, about using his God-given gifts in a powerful and effective way. He wasn’t saying that we should never feel fear because there are times when fear can warn us away from danger or stop us from doing something foolish. The type of fear Paul is talking about here is the kind that keeps us from stepping out in faith and obeying God’s call on our life. That’s what he wanted Timothy to understand. The young man was intimidated by his own youth and inexperience, but Paul was telling him that such fear did not come from God. If God had gifted and called him to do something—which He most certainly had—then Timothy didn’t have to depend on himself to accomplish it. All he had to do was say yes to God and take that first step; God would give him power and strength he needed to do the rest.”
The words echoed in Julia’s ears. No doubt she’d heard these very verses many times throughout her growing-up years in Sunday School and church, but never had they impacted her the way they did at this moment. The rest of Ramon’s words faded into the distance as she pondered the ones he had already spoken.
Was it possible God had called her here, to this very place at this exact time in history? The thought seemed ludicrous. She believed in God, yes, and had heard throughout her lifetime that she needed a personal relationship with Him, but beyond receiving Jesus as her Savior when she was a little girl, she’d never pursued it any further. She’d often considered that she probably needed to make her faith more personal, but how was she to do that? And yet, wouldn’t it have to be so in order to know for certain that God had called you to something and would give you the strength to fulfill His calling if you simply agreed to do it? Before you could say yes to His call, wouldn’t you first have to hear and recognize His voice?
She was still wrestling with those questions when the pastor finished his sermon and invited the congregation to stand for the closing hymn and benediction.
OCTOBER WAS NEARLY OVER, but the weather in Temecula still said summer. It was Marie’s favorite time of year. As she steered her car toward Old Town, where she would meet Ginny for lunch, it was the last Wednesday of the month and she couldn’t help but think of the many autumns she’d enjoyed with Julia when she was young.
She loved all the fall holidays—dressing up and decorating for them, baking and cooking special foods. But it really all started when it was time to go back to school. How she looked forward to that each year! While other children moaned and groaned about saying good-bye to summer vacation, Julia was up bright and early, dressed and ready to go well before the bus arrived. Even when we moved from Imperial Beach to Temecula, she adjusted and excelled in her studies. It’s no surprise she ended up being such a fine teacher.
Her heart twitched at the reminder of where Julia was now. Marie braked at a red light just before the entrance to Old Town and tried to picture the compound where her daughter now lived and worked. Julia had managed to text a couple of pictures, but it wasn’t the same as being there, and part of her wished she could be.
Why? she asked herself, moving ahead when the light turned green. Do I really think I could protect her somehow? She sighed. Only You can do that, Lord. I know that, but . . . do I ever stop being a mom?
She nearly laughed aloud at the ludicrous question. Of course she would never stop being a mom, but at some point didn’t she have to relinquish her grown daughter—a middle-aged daughter at that—into her heavenly Father’s hands?
That’s the real problem, Lord. If only she would truly give her heart and life to You, what a difference that would make! How long must I pray for that to happen, Father? How long?
Another ludicrous question, she realized. “For as long as it takes,” she said aloud, spotting the restaurant up ahead. “As long as I have breath in my body.”
She pulled into the nearly full parking lot, found an empty space not far from Ginny’s car, and resolved to put her concerns for Julia on the back burner for the next hour or two. Ginny was a wonderful friend, and they hadn’t done something special like this in a very long time. They were overdue.
AFTER LESS THAN A TEN-MINUTE WAIT, Marie and Ginny were seated, ice waters in front of them and menus in hand.
“What are you hungry for?” Marie asked, browsing the lunch specials.
“Everything.” Ginny giggled. “But don’t let me order that. I’m supposed to be watching my weight.” She laughed again. “Seems lately, all I do is watch it climb.”
Marie looked up from her menu and across the table at her friend. “I understand only too well.” She smiled. “I remember the good old days, when I could eat anything I wanted and work it off by nighttime.”
Ginny nodded, her brown eyes dancing. “Oh yeah, those were the days for sure! But no more.” She shook her head. “I used to laugh at people who said all they had to do was look at food and they gained weight. Now I’m beginning to understand.”
She sighed. “Still, even though I know I should be good, I really can’t get excited about a side salad with lemon juice for dressing.”
“Neither can I.” Marie looked back at her menu. “In fact, I’m leaning toward the Reuben sandwich. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if I substitute a salad for the fries.”
“We’ll make that a double order, and we’re set,” Ginny said, folding her menu and setting it on the edge of the table. They both laughed as Marie placed her own menu on top of Ginny’s.
“So,” Ginny said, “now that we’ve settled the food issue, how’s everything else going? Have you heard from Julia?”
“Not since I last talked to you,” Marie admitted. “It’s tough getting only sporadic emails, but she sends a letter faithfully each week. From what she says, it sounds as if she’s settled in well and enjoys what she’s doing.”
“Good for her. I’m glad she decided to take advantage of this opportunity, aren’t you?”
Before Marie could answer, the waitress arrived at their table, pen and tablet in hand. By the time they finished ordering, Marie dared to hope Ginny would forget her unanswered question and move on to something else. It didn’t happen.
“We were talking about Julia,” Ginny said before the waitress had gotten more than a half dozen steps away from their table. “You’re pleased that she’s enjoying her experience, right?”
Marie hedged, not wanting to lie but not wanting to admit that she wished her only child were safe and sound in her own home. “She does seem to be enjoying it, and I’m glad for that.”
Ginny raised her penciled-in eyebrows. “But . . . ?”
Marie sighed. She couldn’t get much past this woman. “But . . . I still worry. To be honest, I wish she hadn’t gone. And I blame myself for that. She wouldn’t even have known about it if I hadn’t opened my big mouth.”
Ginny smiled and reached across the table to pat Marie’s hand. “Stop blaming yourself. Who knows? Maybe God used you to prompt Julia into going on this trip. If it’s His purpose for her to be there, then you can thank yourself for your part in it all.”
“I suppose.” Marie wished she could be more enthusiastic, but Ginny would have seen through it anyway. “She’s been gone a couple of months now, and so far everything seems to be going well. Maybe I’m worried about nothing, but I won’t rest until she comes home in June.”
Ginny’s eyebrows lifted again. “She doesn’t come back until then? I hadn’t realized it was such a long commitment.”
Marie nodded and took a sip of her water. “A school year. Then she’ll begin preparing for the new school year here when she gets back.”
Ginny played with the straw in her own water glass, twirling it slowly but never taking a drink. “I still think it’s good for her. She’ll come home with memories she’ll treasure for the rest of her life—and who knows what else? Trips like this
can change someone’s life forever.”
Marie frowned. “True. I just hope it’s for the better.”
Their waitress arrived with their salads then, and Marie reached for her fork with relief. Maybe now they could finally stop talking about Julia. She bowed her head to offer silent thanks for her food, but Ginny was one step ahead of her.
“Thank You, Lord, for this food You’ve provided for us, and for the time You’ve given us to spend together. May we honor You in all we say and do this day. And, Father, please reassure Marie’s heart that You have Your protective hand on Julia. Amen.”
“Amen,” Marie whispered, blinking back a sudden onslaught of tears as she realized how grateful she was to have such a dear and faithful friend as Ginny—and such a powerful and faithful God who loved her daughter even more than she did.
CHAPTER 13
HERNANDO WAS FRUSTRATED—furious, really. He’d accomplished exactly what he’d set out do—kidnap tourists, obtain a ransom for them, and then release them without serious injury, nearly guaranteeing that no legal action or consequences would follow. But apparently that wasn’t enough to exonerate him for his one past failure. Now he had been instructed to do it again—and soon.
He shook his head as he lay on the lumpy bed in the room he shared with one of his compadres. Raul snored like an angry bull, so much so that Hernando had escaped to the old building behind the house to try and catch some sleep on the old mattress on the floor. Tonight he had too much on his mind anyway, so there seemed to be no point in tossing and turning beside his snoring friend.
How many times will I have to do this before I earn my way back in? I’m sick of this place. I want to go back to Guadalajara where I belong.
The image of the thriving metropolis with its pulsating nightlife plagued his thoughts, causing him to hate his seclusion in this old Mayan stronghold in Chiapas State more by the day. Besides, he was getting sick of San Cristobal. San Juan Chamula was smaller, but at least it was a change of pace. He decided to head over there in the next few days and check it out. Tourists visited there too, so why not go for a little variety? But this time he was determined to find a woman who still had some life in her. Why not take advantage while waiting for the ransom delivery?
With that thought dancing through his mind and a smile playing on his lips, he closed his eyes and soon fell asleep.
ITZEL’S THICK, STRAIGHT HAIR SHONE almost blue-black in the afternoon sunshine. Julia was pleased to see how she entered into this preplanned “workday.” Julia had decided to take the students outside to enjoy the lovely autumn weather in an experiment that she believed would show them more about cooperation and working together than anything she could try to teach them in the classroom.
The last few remaining ears of corn needed to be harvested and the weeds hoed between the rows of pumpkins and squash. Julia planned to use their shared working experience to teach them about the upcoming American holiday of Thanksgiving.
She smiled at the thought as she wielded her own hoe, enjoying the feel of the warm noonday sun on her shoulders. The thought of missing out on their annual family Thanksgiving gathering tugged at her heart, but she knew her parents would put on a great spread for Tyler and Brittney, so she needn’t worry that they would be neglected. Besides, the last two Thanksgivings had been tough on her, being in such a familiar setting and sharing so many long-held family traditions and memories yet being unable to block out the glaring absence of her husband, who for years had been the official turkey carver. It was better this way, preparing to celebrate a Thanksgiving with her students, though she doubted it would include a turkey.
Should she invite Padre Ramon? Her heart skipped a beat at the thought, though she did her best to convince herself she had no motive other than including the man who had occasionally helped the Barneses to teach these very students before she arrived, a man the children already loved and respected. Surely it would be the right thing to do under the circumstances.
“Buenos dias, Itzel.”
The gentle, masculine voice interrupted Julia’s thoughts, and she looked up to find Padre Ramon standing beside Itzel. The girl with the shining hair looked up at him and offered a rare smile. “Buenos dias,” she answered, her voice soft.
The padre continued in Spanish. “You are working very hard, I see. Are you enjoying yourself?”
Itzel nodded, her hair shimmering in the sunlight. “Sí, Padre.”
He laid a hand on her shoulder. “You are not only a good student but a good worker, as well.”
The child’s face lit up at the compliment, her gaze remaining on the pastor as he moved through the garden, stopping to call each student by name and to compliment them in some way. Julia’s heart squeezed. How could she not admire such a man?
And then he looked up, smiled, and headed in her direction. Julia thought she could hear her heart beating in her ears. She restrained herself from shaking her head in a futile attempt to dislodge the sound.
“Señora Bennington.” Ramon stopped a couple feet from her, still smiling.
Julia marveled at the whiteness of his teeth against his olive complexion. She swallowed and did her best to keep her voice steady. “Padre Ramon. How nice of you to come out and visit us.”
“I have been watching you . . .” He paused, and she thought she saw his Adam’s apple bob up and down before he continued. “All of you, out here working in the garden. I am pleased to see this. It is part of a lesson plan, sí?”
She nodded, suddenly aware of the hoe in her hands and the fact that she was leaning on it. She straightened her shoulders and smiled. “Sí. Yes. I’m preparing to teach them about the American holiday of Thanksgiving.” She remembered her recent quandary about inviting the padre to join them. Her eyes still locked into his, she said, “We’re going to have a Thanksgiving dinner in the classroom next week—no turkey, of course, but corn and squash and potatoes from the garden. Would you . . . would you like to join us?”
His smile spread, lighting up his eyes. “I would like that very much. But you must let me bring something.”
Bring something? Did he understand that this wasn’t a formal dinner, just a teaching tool to help the students learn about the purpose of Thanksgiving and how it came to be a holiday?
Before she could voice her questions, he said, “I understand it will only be a small meal, but I want the students to see that we each contribute something to share with the others. That’s your purpose in having them work together on the food they will eat at this Thanksgiving meal, am I right?”
He was right indeed. And she was more than pleased to know he would be there to celebrate with them. She nodded. “Yes. Absolutely. We will be happy to have you join us, Padre.”
After a brief moment, he nodded once and turned. She watched him until he was back inside the little church where he would no doubt be working on his next sermon.
TYLER AND BRITTNEY HAD LONG SINCE gotten past their spat in the library, chalking it up to one of many they’d had over the years. They loved one another and instinctively knew they would never let anything come between them.
For that reason Tyler made a point of crisscrossing the campus on Sunday afternoon, hitting all of Brittney’s favorite haunts until he found her under a tree behind her dorm. It was a great spot to catch the afternoon rays, and Tyler couldn’t help but notice how her unruly hair burned a reddish hue that blended in with the many fallen leaves that dotted the area.
“Hey,” he said in greeting, walking up and plopping down beside her. The grass felt cool but not wet, so he settled in comfortably next to her, not concerned that he might stain his jeans.
“Hey, yourself.” She flipped off her ereader and set it aside. “What’s up?”
He shrugged. “Just thinking that it’s almost Thanksgiving. You still want to go home, right? Even though Mom won’t be there?”
She frowned. “Of course I do. Where else would I go on Thanksgiving? We’ll eat at Grandma and Grandpa’s like we alw
ays do.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Tyler tried to ignore the words he wanted to say about their mom being gone, as he knew they would only serve to resurrect their previous disagreements on the subject.
“What does that mean?”
He should have known she’d call him on it, but he determined not to take the bait. “Nothing.” He shrugged again. “Just thought we should talk about what time we want to leave. We should probably call Grandma too and make sure dinner’s still at the usual time.”
Brittney grinned. “You know Grandma won’t care what time we come, so long as we get there—and the sooner the better. Cooking the Thanksgiving meal is her thing, as Grandpa calls it.”
Tyler chuckled. “Yeah, that’s true. So when’s your last class get out on Wednesday?”
“I should be done and ready to go no later than 3:00.”
“Perfect. I’ll meet you in the parking lot in front of my dorm then.”
He stood to his feet, brushed off the seat of his pants, and walked away.
CHAPTER 14
JULIA AND CAROLYN HAD SPENT much of Monday afternoon at the large outdoor market in San Juan Chamula, carefully choosing spices and condiments and even some cocoa to complement the fruits and vegetables they already cultivated in their garden at the compound. Julia wanted their Thanksgiving meal to be not only meaningful to the children but delicious as well. It was the first time she’d be away from her family for the holiday, and the first time her meal would not include a large roasted turkey.
Now, as the children gathered excitedly this Tuesday afternoon around the long makeshift table and benches that Padre Ramon and Frank Barnes had set up earlier in the day, Julia smiled. The tears that stung her eyes were bittersweet, as she pictured her children and parents gathering together on Thursday for their traditional meal without her. Yet she was also pleased at her students’ willingness to learn of an American holiday.