Her Mother's Hope Read Online Free Page A

find pleasure in work well done.”
    Marta’s chest squeezed tight with pain. “I’m not like you, Mama. You see the world through different eyes.” Mama found blessings everywhere because she searched diligently for them. How often had Marta seen Mama leaning against the work counter in the kitchen, bent with exhaustion, sweat pouring from her brow as she watched the mountain finches flitting from branch to branch in the linden tree outside the window? A soft word from Papa would bring a tender smile. Despite his cruelty, his selfishness, Mama found something to love in him. Sometimes Marta would see a look of pity come into her mother’s face when she looked at Papa.
    “Do you know what you want?”
    “To make something of my life. To be more than someone’s servant.” Her eyes grew hot and grainy. “I knew it was too much to dream of going to the university, Mama, but I would’ve liked to finish high school.”
    “What about now?”
    “Now? I’d like to learn French. I’d like to learn English and Italian, too.” She stabbed her needle through the black wool. “Anyone who can speak multiple languages can find a good job.” She pulled the thread through too quickly and it tangled. “But I’ll never have the—”
    “Stop, Marta.” Mama reached over and touched her gently. “You’re making it worse.”
    Turning the black wool over, Marta plucked at the loops, loosening them.
    “If the opportunity arose for you to learn more . . . ?” Mama looked at her in question.
    “I’d find a good job and save money until I had enough to buy a chalet.”
    “You want a place like Hotel Edelweiss , don’t you?” Mama began on another flower.
    “I’ll never dream of having anything as grand as that. I’d be happy with a boardinghouse.” She gave a bleak laugh. “I’d be happy to work in a nice shop in Interlaken selling Dirndln to tourists!” She yanked the thread through. “But that’s not likely, is it? What’s the use of dreaming?” She thrust the wool aside and rose. If she sat another minute, she’d suffocate.
    “Perhaps God put the dream in your head.”
    “Why?”
    “To teach you patience.”
    “Oh, Mama . . .” Marta groaned. “Don’t I show patience teaching that mulish brother of mine? Haven’t I shown patience hoping Papa might change his mind and let me go back to school? It’s been two years, Mama! I’ve done everything he’s told me to do. I’m fourteen! Rosie doesn’t ask me to help her anymore. I grow more stupid every year! What good is patience when nothing will ever change?”
    “Nonsense. Come and sit, Bärchen .” Mama put her work aside and took Marta’s hands firmly. “Look at what you’ve gained through the Beckers, Frau Fuchs and Frau Zimmer, and the Gilgans. You’ve learned to bake, tend bees and children, and you’ve seen what it takes to run a fine hotel. Doesn’t that show you God is preparing you—?”
    Her hands tightened when Marta opened her mouth to protest.
    “Hush, Marta, and listen to me. Listen carefully. It doesn’t matter what your father plans, nor what his motives might be. God will prevail. God will use everything to His good purpose if you love and trust Him.”
    Marta went cold. She saw something in her mother’s expression that warned her. “Papa’s made plans for me, hasn’t he? What plans, Mama?”
    Mama’s blue eyes grew moist. “You must search out the usefulness in every situation.”
    Marta snatched her hands from Mama’s. “Tell me, Mama.”
    “I can’t. It’s for your father to explain.” She took up her sewing and said nothing more.
    Papa laid out his plans for Marta the next morning. “You will be pleased to know I’m sending you to school. I would’ve sent you sooner, but Haushaltungsschule Bern only takes girls fourteen and older. Count and Countess Saintonge are the instructors. Royalty! You should be happy! I’ve been assured that any girl who graduates from their housekeeping school will