Opal's Quest
You need to get out of the city, Opal. Find a good man. Find love. True love. " Her grandmother's grip on her wrist was surprisingly strong. "Perhaps you will find them in a small country town. Promise me you'll leave once I'm gone." A gunshot and a strangled scream reached them from the streets. The double glazed glass of the hospital windows only muffled the sound slightly. Opal shuddered, but she kept her gaze on the slight, beloved woman on the bed. "Don't talk like that Granny. I'm staying right here until they say you can go home. Maybe when you're stronger, we can move to the country together; start over. You could even keep those chickens you always wanted." Opal's smile wobbled. It was a frail attempt to lighten the atmosphere.
"Sweetie, you'll have to do that for me when you get out of here. Even if I did make it back home, I wouldn't be strong enough to travel. My lungs are giving out. The doctor said it's just a matter of days."
"Granny..." Opal wanted to argue, to plead, to beg, but her grandmother's grip had slackened, and her eyes had closed resolutely. It was nap time, and Opal had no choice but to fold herself up on the one armchair in the room. And wait.
***
Several days later, Opal left her grandmother's spent and frail body behind in the hospital. She could barely see through tear drenched eyes as she forced herself to walk along the busy sidewalk. People were pushing, shopping, and shouting, as though Opal's world hadn't just crashed. A tiny coffee shop beckoned to her. She just needed a few moments. A few moments to think. To try to take one normal breath. Somehow, she managed to place an order, then she made her way to the back corner of the shop.
A choking sob rose in her throat as memories of Grandma Jean overwhelmed her. How many times hadn't the two of them drank coffee together? Always with a couple of Grandma Jean's sugar cookies. Of course, when Grandma Jean had rescued her, a sassy eleven year old, living on the streets, she'd been offered milk with cookies. And every day after that when she arrived home from school, dragging her backpack.
It was on Opal's thirteenth birthday that Grandma Jean had given Opal her first cup of coffee. The kitchen table had always been the place where Opal shared her heart, and also spilled both sad and rebellious tears. But Grandma Jean never gave up, and she was always waiting for Opal to join her at that table after school. Coffee, prayers, and sugar cookies...
The waitress placed Opal's cup on the table, and offered a sympathetic smile.
Opal nodded her thanks, but when she looked down, tears fell once more. A sugar cookie smiled up at her from the saucer.
***
Opal's eyes were drier when she rejoined the crowds. She carried her memories like a shawl about her shoulders: memories of warmth, love, and healing. Memories of picnics, Sunday school, church, and Bible reading with Grandma Jean. She thought too, of the women and their children at the shelter. They were going to need her now. And she needed them too.
Opal pressed the button on the gate to the shelter, and pushed her shoulders back.
"Jesus, " she whispered. "Could you tell Grandma Jean that I'm sorry I can't keep my promise? But this is the best way I know to say thank you."
***
The End
***
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Here is a post about how to become a Christian,
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Love,
Alison
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