I thought I should’ve felt happy when we were told we were allowed to go.
Instead, I didn’t feel a thing. My daughter’s face was lit up with a smile, even though she had her mask on and she was waving to all the nurses holding her bunny tightly. But I could only think of how worried I felt.
We had nowhere to return to when the war ended.
The rent will go unpaid because I was living at the hospital day and night during her treatments and waiting for the results. Her dad had died when she was young. My job claimed to understand, but they haven’t contacted me for the past two weeks. I was able to see what that meant.
I probably attempted to hide it. I continued to smile at her, brush her hair gently and let her pick any balloon she wanted in the shop, even when it wasn’t really in the budget.
At that point, two officers arrived in the lobby.
I was worried for a little bit. It struck me that it might be about the bills I had to pay or the paperwork that wasn’t done.
Yet, a nurse gave me a small nod and spoke quietly, “It’s all right.” They want to help you as much as possible.”
They provided to bring our belongings and guide us to our immediate lodging. I wasn’t sure of the meaning and I was too tired to find out.
We moved out with the usual sound of wheels rolling on the floor, seeing nurses waving as we left.
Anyway, while I was outdoors, one of the officers leaned toward me and put an ordinary white envelope in my hands.
Wait until you’re in the van before opening it, he said.
We’re inside the van now.
I have my envelope in my hands.
I just saw that the corner has his name written on it.
My daughter Callie came over and started tugging at my sleeve. Is it possible for us to buy ice cream?
I felt like her voice, being so full of hope and innocence, almost tore me apart. How do you let a six-year-old know that you’re running out of money? That it all looks like it might fall apart right before your eyes?
Maybe at a different moment, my dear,” I told her, pretending to smile. Let’s concentrate on where we’re heading for now, if that’s okay with you?
Her nod signaled that she was okay for a little while and she turned her eyes to the window. Everything outside was a blur as the van drove along. From time to time, she would draw my attention to a dog or a lovely mural on a wall and her happiness helped quiet the anxiety building inside me.
Still, the letter’s envelope continued to be a heavy thought in my head. I couldn’t understand why the officer wanted to wait until we were in the van before opening it. Can you believe it: someone had painstakingly scribbled their name in pencil somewhere on the corner? The sight was familiar, but I couldn’t remember why.
After what felt like a lot of time, the van came to rest in a peaceful residential area. Though the houses were not grand, they were very neat and their lawns and flowers were colorful. We reached a blue house, complete with white shutters. I could see a lady on the porch watching us get close.
“You will be here temporarily for the moment,” the officer told me. “Mrs. Until final arrangements are made, Harper will look after you.
Temporary placement? What on earth does that describe? Was this building meant to provide shelter? Foster care? I didn’t grasp the situation, but the officers were outside before I could ask them for details.
“Wait!” I ran after them. “What about—”
“The envelope should be opened,” the younger officer responded softly. He closed the door after giving me a knowing look.
I could see Gloria Callie jumping beside me as Mrs. Harper walked up to the van. She was not younger, likely to be in her late fifties and had a bun of silver-colored hair. As soon as Callie came into view, her mother’s face softened and she greet Callie with a smile.
Sounding cheerful, she welcomed us and helped us with what we had. Let’s see to your needs first.
Once inside the living room, I sat down on a side of the couch and Callie stretched out beside me. Mrs. Harper then entered the kitchen and left us alone together for a little while. My hands shook slightly as I picked the envelope up for a second time. The street sign’s text hailed back at me: Derek Monroe.
I drew in a quick breath as I heard what they said. Derek… That couldn’t possibly be true. Could it?
I anxiously opened the envelope as my heart beat fast. The inside held just one paper and a key note card attached to it. There was a note in your parcel.
This isn’t what we usually think of as charity. That’s what family does. Search for the place at 427 Maple Street. You will realize everything clearly in go-mode.
I could not make sense of it. As I looked at the address, it matched the house we were sitting in. Who could be sending this? And why?
I took out the letter and read the words as fast as I could. At that moment, I understood who sent me the letter and why—and that’s when the tears came.
Derek Monroe was the older brother that I had. We had not talked for years, ever since he left after college. Differing paths in life pulled us apart until we were no longer close. I wasn’t sure if he was still living nearby.
According to what was written, he had been following my activities for some time. He found out about my struggles by connecting with mutual friends, social media and any path available. He found out about my financial situation and Callie’s illness and immediately lent a hand.
I know I haven’t been around for a while, but I am here now. The house I’m offering you is mine, it’s all paid for and set up and you can use it for as long as you require. All gifts are given freely. Please let me have a place in your lives one more time.
The letter in my hands, I felt overwhelmed. From all this time, I believed he had forgotten all about me. And it was now, at my worst, that he gave me the support I needed.
Mrs. Harper set down a tray with cookies and lemonade on it. She put the book down and looked me in the eyes. Lightly teasing him, she said, “It looks like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“It’s kind of hard to explain,” I said as I gave her the letter. As she progressed in the chapter, her facial expression started to relax.
She said, “He seems like a good man to me.” He keeps a low profile, but he’s always there to help. He wanted me to see how you were feeling and make sure you weren’t too uncomfortable.
I felt so much better than just comfortable—I felt safe and hopeful. Loved.
Over the following days, Derek tried to contact me. Initially, we only texted or phoned to ask about each other. On a random evening, he came over and brought food and games. Callie quickly liked him and shared all about her favorite shows, pulling out her drawings to show him.
Watching them together brought tears of joy and sadness. I was dealing with everything on my own for so long. Because of Derek’s generosity, I didn’t have to worry about it anymore.
With time, life became more normal and predictable. Because of Derek’s help, I found work as a cashier at a bookstore close to us. She went back to school and made friends, continuing to thrive even after everything that had happened. Family love grew stronger in our lives.
When the sun was setting one afternoon and we were sitting on the porch, Derek said, “None of this will make things any different between us, will it?” You are still my sister. I have always been and I will be for as long as I live.
I nodded back just as tears began to form in my eyes. I whispered, “Thank you.” “For everything.”
Life has its flaws. Development from the crisis will take time and there are more issues ahead. For the first time in a very long while, I have a sense of hope. Often times, it’s the individuals you least expect to help who hold you up if you stumble.
Everything I’ve learned tells me to never give up, however hard things might seem. Reach out. Don’t hesitate to ask for assistance. If someone is there to help you, don’t turn them down—you might not know the outcome.
Just a reminder to all who read this: Family means the bonds we develop and keep close, not only the relatives you share blood with. If this seems useful to you, please share and like the article. We should give each other reminders that we are still connected.
