The Gift of Hope Read Online Free
Author: Pam Andrews Hanson
would!”
“Maybe not, but Harriet has been trying to find a husband for her granddaughter, Ernestine, for years. Noah is handsome and personable, not to mention a widower. Men like him don’t come along very often, especially not in Blairton.”
“But she’s so highhanded! Does Ernestine want to bake cookies for the whole congregation? Does she even know her grandmother has volunteered her?”
“Baking is one of the few things Ernestine does well, not that she isn’t a sweet girl.”
“I still don’t see how overloading me with activities will give Ernestine a chance with Noah. People aren’t pawns you can move around to suit your own purposes.” Hope didn’t know when she’d felt so frustrated. “You know how important the Lord is to me. I’m happy to do whatever I can for the church, but I’ve never heard anything so silly. No, not silly, degrading. Poor Ernestine! I wonder whether she knows her grandmother is matchmaking.”
“At least Harriet didn’t try to take over the decorating,” Granny Doe said in a mild voice. “Don’t worry. I have lots of friends who will help.”
“Noah needs help more than I do. The poor man doesn’t know what Harriet is up to. Does every church have someone like her?”
“She means well and supports the activities of the church,” Granny Doe said. “She just gets carried away when she gets an idea. Look on the good side. We’ll have a wonderful Christmas. It’s the season of peace and love. Anything can happen.”
CHAPTER 3
Hope worked late Saturday evening to launder, iron, and repair the costumes for the Holy family. She couldn’t assign parts unless she knew the robes would fit.
Granny Doe had been right about the condition of the angel costumes. She would give the parents of the angels a choice of laundering and repairing them or making new on their own. Since they were made of inexpensive white cotton, it wouldn’t be a hardship to any of the families. Even an old sheet would suffice.
Before she left for the casting call Sunday afternoon, she checked the clipboard where she kept a list of all the things she had to do, happy to cross off one item.
Granny Doe had decided to stay home all day to rest her aches and pains from overdoing the day before. Getting around on crutches might look easy, but the older woman was using muscles she’d forgotten she had.
“Can I get you anything before I leave?” Hope asked after settling her grandmother on the living room couch.
“No, I’ll just do a little reading and maybe nap a bit. I wonder whether Reverend Langdon—Noah—will be there for your meeting. It’s hard to remember to call a minister by his first name.”
“There’s no reason why he should be there,” Hope said, trying to conceal her irritation at her grandmother’s determination to put her on the minister’s radar. “Even if he is, I’ll have more than thirty children to cast and assign costumes.”
“Well, good luck, dear,” Granny Doe said, feigning indifference.
Hope got to the church a good half hour before the scheduled time, wondering if the unseasonably warm weather would last much longer. She appreciated not having to shovel the driveway or scrape her car windows, but Christmas Eve without a shimmering white blanket of snow to mask the drabness of winter seemed wrong. She had fond memories of singing carols with her high school friends while big fluffy flakes turned the town into a wonderland on Christmas Eve.
Many of those friends were married now, and others had moved away in search of better opportunities. Although she loved her job and her grandmother, she sometimes felt lonely for the close relationships of the past.
Her mood brightened when Stacy Van Horn and her five-year-old daughter, Daisy, a curly haired little redhead who was practically a replica of her mother at that age, were the first to arrive at the church.
“Remember when we were shepherds in the pageant?” Stacy asked. “I still
“Maybe not, but Harriet has been trying to find a husband for her granddaughter, Ernestine, for years. Noah is handsome and personable, not to mention a widower. Men like him don’t come along very often, especially not in Blairton.”
“But she’s so highhanded! Does Ernestine want to bake cookies for the whole congregation? Does she even know her grandmother has volunteered her?”
“Baking is one of the few things Ernestine does well, not that she isn’t a sweet girl.”
“I still don’t see how overloading me with activities will give Ernestine a chance with Noah. People aren’t pawns you can move around to suit your own purposes.” Hope didn’t know when she’d felt so frustrated. “You know how important the Lord is to me. I’m happy to do whatever I can for the church, but I’ve never heard anything so silly. No, not silly, degrading. Poor Ernestine! I wonder whether she knows her grandmother is matchmaking.”
“At least Harriet didn’t try to take over the decorating,” Granny Doe said in a mild voice. “Don’t worry. I have lots of friends who will help.”
“Noah needs help more than I do. The poor man doesn’t know what Harriet is up to. Does every church have someone like her?”
“She means well and supports the activities of the church,” Granny Doe said. “She just gets carried away when she gets an idea. Look on the good side. We’ll have a wonderful Christmas. It’s the season of peace and love. Anything can happen.”
CHAPTER 3
Hope worked late Saturday evening to launder, iron, and repair the costumes for the Holy family. She couldn’t assign parts unless she knew the robes would fit.
Granny Doe had been right about the condition of the angel costumes. She would give the parents of the angels a choice of laundering and repairing them or making new on their own. Since they were made of inexpensive white cotton, it wouldn’t be a hardship to any of the families. Even an old sheet would suffice.
Before she left for the casting call Sunday afternoon, she checked the clipboard where she kept a list of all the things she had to do, happy to cross off one item.
Granny Doe had decided to stay home all day to rest her aches and pains from overdoing the day before. Getting around on crutches might look easy, but the older woman was using muscles she’d forgotten she had.
“Can I get you anything before I leave?” Hope asked after settling her grandmother on the living room couch.
“No, I’ll just do a little reading and maybe nap a bit. I wonder whether Reverend Langdon—Noah—will be there for your meeting. It’s hard to remember to call a minister by his first name.”
“There’s no reason why he should be there,” Hope said, trying to conceal her irritation at her grandmother’s determination to put her on the minister’s radar. “Even if he is, I’ll have more than thirty children to cast and assign costumes.”
“Well, good luck, dear,” Granny Doe said, feigning indifference.
Hope got to the church a good half hour before the scheduled time, wondering if the unseasonably warm weather would last much longer. She appreciated not having to shovel the driveway or scrape her car windows, but Christmas Eve without a shimmering white blanket of snow to mask the drabness of winter seemed wrong. She had fond memories of singing carols with her high school friends while big fluffy flakes turned the town into a wonderland on Christmas Eve.
Many of those friends were married now, and others had moved away in search of better opportunities. Although she loved her job and her grandmother, she sometimes felt lonely for the close relationships of the past.
Her mood brightened when Stacy Van Horn and her five-year-old daughter, Daisy, a curly haired little redhead who was practically a replica of her mother at that age, were the first to arrive at the church.
“Remember when we were shepherds in the pageant?” Stacy asked. “I still