Chapter 18
“I can’t believe it’s finally going up.” Hanna exclaimed as she and Chris stood side by side, arms wrapped around one another staring at the frame of what would be their new home.
The mid April air was warm and sweet. The trees sprouted small buds and new grass peeked out from the moist soil.
“We certainly have been blessed with a cooperative spring.” Chris added. “I don’t want to let out my breath just yet, you never know if it will snow again.”
“I’m sure if it does, it will not stick long.” Hanna stated tightening her grip on Chris then releasing him, running toward the house.
“I want a covered front porch facing this way and we can use those two trees over there to tie a rope for the wash and over here, my garden.” She bounced around like a little girl on Christmas morning.
“Just think, in only a couple of months, we’ll see sprouts coming up from our very own beans, corn, carrots, squash... anything we want to plant. Over here on the side of the house, I’d love to have some rose bushes. Wouldn’t that be lovely?”
Chris walked up and stood by his fiancé. “And daisies.” He simply said. “I have to have daisies.”
“Daisies? Why? Oh, not that I don’t love daisies...”
“That was my grandma’s favorite flower. I would like to have something to remind me of her, not that I don’t think of her all the time.” Chris said, hanging his head.
Hanna grabbed Chris' hands and pulled him down to sit beside her on the pile of logs near the skeleton frame of their home.
"I have only heard you mention her a few times but when you do, I can see the love in your eyes. You adored her, didn't you?"
"That's putting it lightly." Chris said in a low tone. "She was my everything, the only person I had."
"Where were your ma and pa?" Hanna asked.
"My dad left when I was six years old and my mom...." He trailed off.
"Did... she... die?" Hanna hesitantly asked.
"No. She's still alive but when my father left, she changed. She began drinking and turned on me as if she blamed me and despised me. My grandmother passed before my father even left, so when my mom deteriorated, I had nothing left. I had no one."
"I'm so sorry, Christopher." Hanna stated, lightly stroking his hand. "I had no idea you had such a rough childhood. No wonder you shielded yourself with a wall of attitude."
"I always dreamed of leaving my parents and going to live with my grandma but then she fell ill and passed away just under two years later. I was devastated. My father didn’t take the death of his mother very well and it finally got the best of him to where he didn’t care about his family at all. I could understand that he left my mother, since they were not getting along, but never understood how he never made an effort to contact me.” Chris fought the tears back. “I guess I’d been upset with God for taking my grandma from me. I wanted and needed her with me. I only had six years with her.”
“I know it’s hard to hear but you should be thanking God for the six years you had with her rather than cursing Him for the years you didn’t.” Hanna explained. “She obviously made a huge impression on you and taught you many things. It’s apparent that what she taught you and what she was to you still hangs on inside and that is a true blessing.”
Chris turned to Hanna and embraced her still fighting back the tears. She looked into his moistened eyes and gently ran her fingers down his rugged face.
“Why don’t you tell me the best memory you have of her.” Hanna said trying to bring up a positive.
“Oh, I know it was a short time I had with her but I have many. She used to bake with me and read to me. Every so often, she’d wake me up by bringing me a tray of pancakes that she made into a smiley face using eggs and bacon. She used to take me to the movies and the arcade, whatever I wanted to do.”
“That sounds wonderful... What is a movie or arcade?” Hanna asked sounding truly interested.
“Oh.. um..” Chris stammered. “An arcade is a building where you can go play games and a movie is when people act to tell a story.”
“Oh, the theatre. I read about them in a newspaper, once. I would love to go see a play. I used to run around when I was a little girl, acting out theatrical scenes.” Hanna giggled with some embarrassment. “Did you enjoy the plays?”
Chris decided to just allow her to think that was what he was talking about to save himself from further explanation. “Yes, I did enjoy them.” He replied with a grin. “I guess the best memory I have of my grandmother is when she would come into my room, climb in next to me and read me passages from the Bible. Her voice was soothing and the words comforting. I always loved to hear the stories of love and acceptance and crave that when I returned home but never found it there. I felt invisible in the presence of my parents. It was almost as if they could pass right through me. Later, I longed for that invisibility when my mother hit and knocked me down.”
Hanna straightened her body and popped back from Chris’ shoulder. “She struck you?” she said in a shocked voice.
Chris merely nodded.
“I don’t even know what to say, I’m sorry. I could never imagine such a thing.” Hanna exclaimed seeming to be on the verge of tears herself.
“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul.” Chris began. “Psalm 23 has always been my favorite that she read to me. It always seemed to comfort me.”
Hanna snuggled against Chris’ shoulder. “He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.” She continued for him.
“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” They finished together.
A long silence lingered in the air as they sat, still embraced. Chris fought the tears back but felt God’s grace flow over him. He suddenly felt warm, secure and safe.
“What was your grandmother’s name?” Hanna asked softly.
“Anne.” Chris replied with a smile. “Anne Beatrice Scholt.”
“That’s beautiful.” Hanna replied taking another look around the property. “I think daisies would be just as beautiful lining the house and walkways.”
“I love you, Hanna.” Chris whispered into her ear, brushing his face against hers.
“And I, you.” she replied.