Color the Sidewalk for Me (55 page)
“You won't get away from me this time,” I said.
He squeezed my hand until I thought it would break. “We've both made terrible mistakes, Celia. We didn't do what your granddad told us; we took our eyes off Jesus. After I lost you, I rejected him completely. I told him it was all his fault. But deep inside I knew that wasn't true. Your mother's phone call was a miracleâGod's gift to me, when I didn't deserve it. He's given you back to me and I'm not going to blow it this time.”
“You won't, Danny,” I replied quickly. “Neither will I. Not after all this.”
“We could, Celia. Left to our own devices, we'd manage it. So we've got to promise each other that we'll look to Jesus for guidance this timeâin everything. He's the only binding that will hold us together.” The seriousness of Danny's tone brought me up short, the brilliance of my sudden happiness momentarily fading. This was no small pledge that Danny demanded. Selfishness and pride had once destroyed our relationship. That may have been years ago, but I knew those same traits still existed within me. Just look at how I had treated Mama in the past few days. Even so, she had responded in tremendous love. God was giving me another chance with both Danny and her after so many years. But this wasn't the end; it was only the beginning. The old hurts and grievances between Mama and me, and Danny and me, were sure to raise their ugly heads. I had much to learn and much to work on within myself before I could completely let go of the past, and some of that process would not be easy.
Of one more thing I was certain. No way could I do it without God's help.
“I promise you,” I told Danny, this time understanding the depth of the words. “Before God, I promise!”
“And I promise you.”
He took me again in his arms.
Sometime later distant voices meandered through the open window, and before I realized it, I was on my feet. “Mama and Daddy!” Sudden shyness overwhelmed me. There was so much to thank Mama for, so much to say. Helplessly I looked to Danny. “Come with me.”
We stepped through the screen door hand in hand, walked down the porch steps to stand on the multicolored sidewalk. Danny's gaze swept the cement. “This is all for you, isn't it?”
“Yes,” I said, smiling. “Isn't it beautiful?”
From a half block away Daddy beamed lopsidedly at us, Mama pushing his wheelchair. “Haay, Daannyy!” he cried. “Guud ta see ya!” Leaning forward expectantly, he urged Mama to hurry up.
“Good to see you too, sir!”
“Heaven's sake, William.” Mama's voice floated to us, brusque with self-consciousness. “I can't move any faster.”
Danny started to tug me across the grass, but my footsteps faltered, a realization dawning. Slowly my eyes traveled from Mama's face to the last square in the sidewalk.
“Wait, Danny.” I pulled him back. “This one. She meant it for you.”
Aloud Danny read the message in its careful red print and squeezed my hand with joy.
You'll be staying for supper, I expect.
W
hile writing this story, I attended my family's annual reunion at my parents' home in Wilmore, Kentucky. God has blessed our family with a wonderful closeness, even though we're now spread across the country. Mom and Dad, lifetime servants of Jesus Christ, have modeled for their four daughters what it means to trust in him daily. Being with them has always been a special time for us. By that year's reunion, my parents had reached eighty and were still in good health. My sisters and I cherished the time with them even more.
One night after dinner a cousin presented me and my sisters each with a small, thoughtful gift. Mine, God bless him, was a box of sidewalk chalk. Gleefully the four of us went outside to color the sidewalk for Mom and Dad. As cousins and in-laws and children looked on, we each took a square. The youngsters, including mine, giggled at the sight of us adults on our hands and knees, drawing. Soon the walkway was covered with flowers, hearts, messages, a cozy house with smoke curling from its chimney, a star, an exclamation point.
When we were through, I gazed at the colorful designs, explaining to my curious daughter why we had done it. Through the writing of my book, I told her, coloring the sidewalk had come to symbolize a special way to honor someone, to say to that person, “I love you . . . accept you . . .
celebrate
you.” It is a way to depict what, through loving that person, you should live every day.
When you're a little older, I added, maybe you'll color the sidewalk for someone you love.
Amberly was only seven but I think she understood.
My mother was joyous at the gift, radiant. Whisking a hot-pink jump rope from the lawn, she began skipping it on the sidewalk. I grabbed a camera. In the picture she is still wearing her green-and-white checked apron, the rope caught sailing over her head. Her arms are flung out, fingers grasping its handles, her mouth open in a wide, unabashed grin.
And spread beneath her skipping feet are the colorful life celebrations of her four beloved children.
Brandilyn, daughter number four
Redwood City, California
Eyes of Elisha
Brandilyn Collins
The murder was ugly.
The killer was sure no one saw him.
Someone did.
In a horrifying vision, Chelsea Adams has relived the victim's last moments. But who will believe her? Certainly not the police, who must rely on hard evidence. Nor her husband, who barely tolerates Chelsea's newfound Christian faith. Besides, he's about to hire the man who Chelsea is certain is the killer to be a vice president in his company.
Torn between what she knows and the burden of proof, Chelsea must follow God's leading and trust him for protection. Meanwhile, the murderer is at liberty. And he's not about to take Chelsea's involvement lying down.
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