Julia's Hope Read Online Free

was glad to see that the windows were intact.
    Sam went back to the kitchen and brought our bags. He pulled out our two thin blankets.
    “Can we explore?” Robert asked.
    “Let’s eat now,” I told him, trying to sound as pleased with our adventure as he seemed to be. But there were only two apples and a few old biscuits left in my bag. The Lord would have to provide tomorrow’s breakfast.
    I cut the apples in half and set a biscuit in front of each child. I started to offer Sam a biscuit, but he shook his head, so I gave him our old canteen instead. There should be a prayer, I thought, but I only whispered a rote blessing out loud. Lord, I prayed in my head, help us make a life again. Give Sam a hope again. Help us be close like we used to be.
    It occurred to me then that I ought to pray for help in getting over the anger I felt toward Sam. But I didn’t do it. I guess it was easier to think that I’d forgiven him already and was just entitled to my feelings beyond that.
    I let the children have all the food. I couldn’t have eaten anyway, with Sam refusing. I would find us more food in the morning. Even though it was only the first part of May, I could be confident of finding something edible among all the things growing outside. Grandma Pearl had walked me through the seasons on her farm, showing me what to look for. That was before Grandpa Charlie had died and we had to move to town. I could still remember how embarrassed Papa had always been by Mama’s parents and their strange country ways. But I’d loved them dearly and had come to thank God for the things they had taught me.
    Sam was sitting with his back against the wall, watching his youngsters finish off our last crumb. Once he looked up at me for a moment and then turned his head.
    I should hug him, I thought. I should tell him we’ll be okay, that it’s not his fault. But I didn’t move and couldn’t seem to say anything.
    Sarah leaned into me. “Sing ‘Button Up Your Overcoat,’ Mama,” she whispered.
    Sam looked at her with the barest hint of a smile, and I took heart. I did my best with the song, adding the hand motions we’d made up as we hitchhiked across Kentucky. Then I jumped into my own silly rendition of “Bye, Bye, Blackbird.”
    And all the while as I sang, Sam watched me. What must he be thinking, me acting this way? I’d barely spoken to him for days. But I carried on for Sarah like this was some kind of picnic!
    But whatever he thought, my antics for Sarah were genuine. No matter how worried I got or how mad Sam made me, I would still make light of our situation for my kids, just to see them smile. They were going to act like kids. They were going to play and laugh like kids, no matter how bad things got. And somehow, with the help of the good Lord, I’d find a way to fill their bellies, whether Sam found work again or not.
    “Can we look around now?” Robert asked me eagerly as lightning crashed outside the window.
    Sarah jumped onto my lap and wrapped her arms around my neck. “It’s too dark, Mama,” she whispered. “And too loud.”
    “Light a couple more candles,” I told Robert. “It won’t hurt to explore a bit, but only on the ground floor, do you hear? Don’t try any old stairs.”
    Sam gave me a reproachful look but ended up helping Robert with the candles and walking through the rest of the downstairs rooms with him while I cuddled with Sarah and sang her another song.
    “Are we going to live here forever?” she suddenly asked me. Her gentle whisper shocked me as much as if she’d shouted the words.
    I should have told her no. But my mind turned to the house, the high ceilings, the dark woodwork I could see in carved detail with every flash of the lightning outside. There were two little shelves with empty kerosene lamps and a wide mantle with a huge mirror set above the fire-place stone. Pale green drapes hung limp at the windows, still looking presentable despite their years.
    It was a decent and