The Healing Touch (Stories from hope haven)

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The Healing Touch (Stories from hope haven) Page 21

by Hanson


  She couldn't help but compare her to Izzy. Someday her granddaughter would be a lovely teenager like the girl in the photograph, but Elena was grateful for every day of her childhood that she was allowed to share.

  When she got to her unit, she put the envelope in a safe place behind the nurses’ station. She would read the note again on her afternoon break, but for now, she was grateful for the boost it had given to her spirit.

  Not surprisingly, Cesar had refused to go to the Sunday evening Bible study with her the last two weeks. She went alone, but it had been hard to concentrate. She missed being with him and regretted that he didn't share this important part of her life. At least they would go together to Izzy's recital this evening.

  At supper time Izzy was too excited to do more than nibble at her food. Elena finally covered her plate with plastic wrap and put it in the fridge, anticipating that she could warm it in the microwave after the recital.

  She helped her granddaughter get into the pretty little costume she’d made. The pink dye had worked well on her tights, and her tutu was suitably bouncy and cute.

  “Can I put my shoes on now?” Izzy asked. “I want to see my costume all together.”

  “Best to wait. We don't have time to put them on and take them off before we leave.”

  She put them in Izzy's shoe bag before she could protest. Ballet shoes weren't meant for outside wear.

  Rafael parked the car while Elena and Cesar went into the elementary school, rented for the occasion by Izzy's teacher. It was an older building, but it featured a nice stage at one end of the gym. Rafael took his daughter through the door that led to the backstage area while Elena and Cesar found four vacant folding chairs close to the front, saving the extra one for Sarah. They were early, thanks to Izzy's impatient urging, so the seats around them weren't occupied yet.

  Cesar had been unusually quiet all through dinner and the ride to the school, but as soon as they were seated, he began talking in a low voice that only she could hear.

  “I let you down, I know,” he said.

  “If you don't feel the love of the Lord in your heart, I wouldn't want you to pretend for my sake.”

  “I told you I would go to the class, but I felt like a hypocrite. I see things differently than the pastor. I didn't want to embarrass you by playing devil's advocate in front of the class.”

  “Pastor Flynn welcomes questions. You wouldn't embarrass me.”

  “Still, I’m sorry I can't share something so important to you.”

  She reached over and put her hand on top of his. “I pray every day that you’ll come to know the Lord, but it's your decision. I won't try to force you to do anything at the church. It's meaningless if you only go to please me.”

  A couple edged past them to take the seats at the other end of the row; and a few moments later, Rafael and then Sarah came to sit in the chairs they’d saved for them.

  Cesar took Elena's hand and held it until the first group of little ballerinas began their part of the program. There were seven children lined up on the stage when the teacher began playing the piano and nodding at them to begin.

  Izzy's face was serious, and she executed her steps with concentrated precision. In fact, the little girl beside her kept looking at her, as though following Izzy's lead. Sitting beside Cesar, Rafael was recording every minute of the dance with his camera.

  Elena allowed herself a moment of irony when the number was complete. It had lasted only minutes, compared to the hours it took to make the costume. But sewing for Izzy was a labor of love, and she really didn't regret the time it took.

  When the older children had had their turns and the program was complete, Rafael and Sarah went backstage to collect their daughter. Elena went with Cesar to bring the car up to the door.

  Big wet snowflakes blew into their faces and melted as soon as they hit the ground. Cesar took her arm as they weaved their way though parked cars to the place where he had parked.

  “She did well,” he said.

  “Yes, I’m so proud of her.”

  “We have a great family.”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re the heart of it. I can't imagine life without you,” he said.

  He pulled her close in the shadow of the car and lightly brushed her forehead with his lips.

  “I’m sorry I’m not able to commit to the church. I want to make you happy, but I’m not ready. I hope it's enough that we share our family and our love for each other. Maybe someday…” His voice trailed off.

  “We’re blessed to have each other and Rafael and Izzy,” Elena said, meaning it wholeheartedly.

  “Yes. I love all of you more than I can say,” her husband said.

  Elena felt the peace of the Lord flowing into her. She trusted that someday her prayers would be answered and Cesar would believe as she did. Meanwhile, her heart was full of gratitude for all that they shared, especially their love for each other and their family.

  About the Authors

  Pam Hanson and Barbara Andrews are a daughter/mother writing team. They have had nearly thirty books published together, including several for Guideposts in the series Tales from Grace Chapel Inn.

  Pam’s background is in journalism, and she previously taught at the university level for fifteen years. She and her college professor husband have two sons. Reading is her favorite pastime, and she enjoys being a volunteer youth leader at her church. Pam writes about faith and family at http://pamshanson.blogspot.com.

  Previous to their partnership, Barbara had twenty-one novels published under her own name. She began her career by writing Sunday school stories and contributing to antiques publications. Currently, she writes a column and articles about collectible postcards. For the past twenty-five years, Barbara has conducted sales of antique postcards to benefit world hunger relief. She is the mother of four and the grandmother of eight. Barbara makes her home with Pam and her family in Nebraska.

  Read on for a sneak peek of the next exciting and heartfelt book in Stories from Hope Haven.

  Lean on Me

  by

  Leslie Gould

  JAMES BELL PUSHED THE ARM OF THE OVERHEAD light away from the operating table as Dr. Drew Hamilton stepped away from their sixty-eight-year-old patient. They’d just completed a stent placement.

  “She’ll be playing with her grandkids in no time.” Dr. Hamilton’s voice was muffled by his mask, and his eyes twinkled under his blue cap.

  James nodded. There was nothing more rewarding than changing the course of a person’s life.

  “I’ll wheel her down to recovery,” James said as his pager went off. He squinted in the dim light to read the message. The CEO of Hope Haven Hospital, Albert Varner, wanted James to stop by.

  Dr. Hamilton pulled his pager from the waistband of his scrubs at the same time. He glanced down, pushed a button, and then lifted his head toward James. “Albert Varner.”

  James’s pulse quickened. “Does he want to see you too?”

  Dr. Hamilton nodded. “I’ll head down in a few minutes.”

  “What do you think he wants?” James gripped the end of the gurney.

  “Probably to tell us what a great job we’re doing.” He patted James on the back. “See you soon.”

  James tried to smile but an uneasy feeling settled in his gut. The chief executive officer of Hope Haven wouldn’t ask to see them to tell them that.

  Twenty minutes later, after having delivered his patient to recovery, James headed down the staircase to the administrative offices. Penny Risser sat at her desk flanked by pots of two-feet-high plants, thick with leaves. Her lacquered fingernails clacked out a rhythm as she talked on the phone.

  “What can I do for you?” Penny asked as she hung up the phone.

  “Albert paged me.”

  “There you are.” The CEO stepped forward, scanning the waiting area. “Where’s Drew?” His dark hair needed to be combed, his tie was loose, and the sleeves of his white dress shirt were rolled to his elbows.r />
  “He’s on his way,” James said.

  “Come on in,” Albert said.

  James followed and passed through the door into a virtual jungle of plants, all thanks to Penny’s green thumb. Bamboo grew in potted plants under the window. A hanging basket filled the far corner and three smaller plants—a fern, a zebra plant, and a tropical lily—graced the front of Albert’s desk, partially hiding the mess of papers and files.

  “James,” Albert said, running his fingers through his thick hair as he sat down, “how are you doing?” The man was usually outgoing and gregarious although unorganized, but today he seemed more out of sorts than usual. He settled into his stately office chair behind the desk and rolled forward.

  “Just fine, thank you,” James said, though he felt ill at ease.

  Just then Dr. Hamilton stepped through the doorway, saving James from having to say anything more. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

  Albert stood and extended his hand, saying, “Drew. Welcome.”

  Dr. Hamilton shook it enthusiastically and then settled into the chair beside James. “I have to tell you, Albert,” he said, “we’ve been busy all week and next week is already booked. Patients who would have gone to Peoria are now staying in town for their procedures. And the whole health of the town will improve with more consistent treatment and education.”

  Albert ran his fingers through his full head of hair again. “Actually Drew—and James—that’s why I called you in. It turns out”—he cleared his throat—“that we may have made the decision to approve the Holistic Cardiac Program prematurely.”

  Dr. Hamilton scooted forward on his chair. “Say again?”

  “You know,” Albert said, pulling his chair closer to his desk. “Zane should really be here to explain the ins and outs of all of this.” He picked up his phone and punched a couple of buttons. A couple of seconds later he said, “I need you in my office to spout some numbers.” He glanced from James to Dr. Hamilton as he spoke but didn’t smile. “On the Holistic Cardiac Program. Why it’s not sustainable.” Then he hung up the phone.

  “He’ll be right in,” he said.

  James’s heart began to race.

  “Albert,” Dr. Hamilton said as he scooted to the edge of his chair, “we went over the numbers.”

  Before Dr. Hamilton could say any more, there was a quick rap on the door as it swung open, and Zane McGarry, chief financial officer of Hope Haven, strode into the office with a file in his hand. “Drew. James,” he said, shaking both of their hands as the men stood. “Albert.” He faced his boss and then sat in the chair closest to the door. He was an intelligent man, which was evident in his clear brown eyes. He sat tall and waited.

  “Zane,” Albert said, “I was saying that we’re going to have to cut the new program.” The CEO was usually charismatic, and James was surprised at his bluntness.

  Zane nodded, a look of empathy on his face. “The timing is most unfortunate,” he said. “We’ve just been notified of new national electronic-charting standards we need to meet and our budget can’t weather both the new requirements and the new program.”

  “But how can Hope Haven survive if patients are going to Peoria for procedures and surgeries?” Dr. Hamilton said, leaning forward in his chair.

  “At this point we’re just trying to keep afloat and last as long as we can,” Zane said.

  Albert’s head jerked forward. “Wait a minute, Zane. That’s strictly your opinion.” He shot a stern look at Zane. “And I’ve already told you, it’s an opinion I don’t share. I’m certain Hope Haven will survive.” He paused and then continued, “There’s no reason to be pessimistic. We’re closing one program—not an entire hospital.”

  “What’s the timeline on the cardiac program?” Dr. Hamilton asked.

  Albert shook his head. “There isn’t one. We had to pull the plug, no pun intended, today. Right now.”

  “What about the patients who are scheduled for next week?”

  “The regular surgery team will incorporate what they can—the others will have to go to Princeton or Peoria.” Albert stood. “Drew, you’ll go back to your previous position.”

  James stood. He’d be going back to the floor—and that would be fine. He would manage.

  “And you, James.” Albert’s face reddened as he spoke. “According to human resources…I’m sorry James.”

  “Pardon? Sorry for what?”

  “I’m sorry,” Albert repeated. “You’ve been laid off.”

  “But…” He felt his stomach flip. “I’ve worked at Hope Haven for twenty-one years!”

  Albert rubbed the back of his neck and turned his head toward Zane. “Do you remember exactly what human resources said?”

  Zane stood. “I wasn’t at that meeting.”

  Albert motioned to the door. “Zane, would you ask Penny to come in here for a moment?”

  To James, it felt like an eternity before Penny joined them. She lingered at the doorway, barely entering the room.

  Albert’s face was beet red now. “Penny, what were the details on James’s new job?”

  Penny’s face was full of compassion, but she sounded like a robot. “With the new position came a higher salary, but you gave up your seniority, and since your previous job has already been filled, the hospital regrettably has to lay you off.”

  James sat back down in his chair.

  “It has nothing to do with your job performance—” Albert was saying as Dr. Hamilton interrupted him.

  “This is outrageous!” The doctor’s voice was loud and firm. “Hope Haven has never treated a loyal employee this way.”

  Zane appeared obviously distressed. Beads of sweat had gathered around the hairline of his closely cropped hair. “Albert, if you don’t need me any longer, I have work to finish up.” He slipped past Penny before Albert responded.

  Albert sank down into his office chair. “This has nothing to do with you and James—it has to do with keeping Hope Haven open.” He pushed back toward the window. “Even so, James, I have to ask you to gather all of your things, and you must also refrain from discussing this with any of the staff as you leave. I don’t want a mutiny on my hands before I can address this in a civil way. That will happen Monday.”

  Dr. Hamilton shook his head. “If you think I’m not going to talk with anyone about this, you’re mistaken. I’m not going to let this go,” he said.

  James headed to the third-floor staff lounge. He didn’t have much to gather—just his coffee cup, an extra set of clothes in his locker, and his stethoscope, penlight, and clamps. He took the stairs to the first floor and then hustled down the hall by the ER and out the back door to the staff parking lot into the chill of the afternoon, hoping he wouldn’t see anyone. But of course that wasn’t possible.

  “James!” Anabelle was standing beside her car. “How are you?”

  His van was parked a couple of spaces away. He willed himself not to tell her what was going on. He never understood the power a company had over someone who had been laid off—until now. He wanted—he needed—to work at Hope Haven. He would comply with Albert Varner’s instructions to a tee and hope Leila Hargrave could save the day come Monday.

  “Good,” James called out to his friend. “How are you?”

  “Glad it’s Friday,” she answered. “What a week. You and Dr. Hamilton kept the floor hopping with all of your surgeries. I might have to hire some nurses just to keep up.”

  James grimaced at the irony of her statement.

  Anabelle smiled. “What do you have planned for the weekend?”

  “Oh, you know, the usual.” Praying. “Catching up on laundry. Cleaning.” Updating my resum. “Playing basketball with Gideon and Nelson. Hanging out with Fern.” Fern. His heart skipped a beat. “How about you?”

  “I get to spend time with Lindsay Belle tomorrow.” Anabelle beamed. The woman was crazy about her one-year-old granddaughter.

  They said good-bye, and as James climbed into his van he thought about the layof
f scare Hope Haven had experienced just over two years ago. Then, everyone was in the same boat. Now, he felt like a lone, isolated target. He took a deep breath and came to his senses. Thank goodness it was just him—hopefully Zane was wrong and there wouldn’t be a ripple effect.

  Frustrated, James pressed his forehead against the steering wheel. It had been less than two years ago that it looked like the hospital was going to close, and he’d considered moving his family to Peoria. And not long after that, the staff took a 10 percent pay cut to keep the hospital in the black. Surely Albert was right that the hospital wasn’t facing such dire straits again.

  James turned his eyes toward the hospital. The sun was low in the early spring sky, but it cast a shimmer of light over the bricks and windows. He turned on the ignition and let it idle for a minute before turning on the heater.

  At least their previous home had sold last month. He’d begun the paperwork for a loan to buy their new place. If he really didn’t have a job, he was pretty sure they wouldn’t be approved for the house.

  As he drove away from the hospital, he prayed aloud, “What now, Lord? What do You have planned for me, Fern, and our boys?”

  To read Lean on Me in its entirety, you can order by mail:

  Guideposts

  PO Box 5815

  Harlan, Iowa 51593

  by phone: (800) 932-2145

  or online: shopguideposts.com

  A Note from the Editors

  Guideposts, a nonprofit organization, touches millions of lives every day through products and services that inspire, encourage, and uplift. Our magazines, books, prayer network, and outreach programs help people connect their faith-filled values to their daily lives.

  Your purchase of Stories from Hope Haven does make a difference! To comfort hospitalized children, Guideposts Outreach has created Comfort Kits for free distribution. A hospital can be a very scary place for sick children. With all the hustle and bustle going on around them, the strange surroundings, and the pain they're experiencing, is it any wonder kids need a little relief?

 

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