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to where it’s going, which means the muscles won’t re-spond like they should. So, when she tells her leg to move, it might work fine until she goes outside in the middle of a Texas summer and then decides to walk five miles in the heat.”

Meghan nodded. “I knew that much.”

Carolyne reached out and took her hand. “There’s more, honey. Some of the damage will go away. Give it six months or so to see. And they now have medications that can help slow the progression of the disease.”

Meghan didn’t look as if she believed her. “My grandmother wasn’t on anything.”

“That’s because they didn’t have them back then.

They’re called the A.B.C.R. drugs. Each letter stands for one of the four drugs they have for relapsing-remitting multiple sclerosis—Avonex, Betaseron, Copax-one and Rebif. A neurologist prescribes them. They work to slow down the progression of the disease and, from what I’ve read, a lot of women never end up in a wheelchair.”

“Women?” Meghan asked.

Carolyne waved her hand. “And men, though it seems if you are a woman, you are twice as likely to get this disease as a man, and the farther away from the equator you live, the more likely you are to get it.”

“Why is that?” Sarah asked, and Carolyne noted she had stopped working altogether and was listening intently.

“They don’t know. And it seems if you are Anglo-Saxon—white,” she explained to Sarah, “your chances of contracting the disease are much higher.”

“So that’s why you use a cane?” Sarah asked.

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Meghan shook her head. “I have trouble with balance because of my leg.”

“And that might clear up,” Carolyne informed her,

“unless there is permanent damage.”

For the first time Meghan looked hopeful. “You mentioned that earlier. But how?”

“The fatty tissue grows back. Only if the nerve end-ings are permanently damaged will you sustain long-term symptoms. Meghan, it’s all here in the papers I printed. You really need to read this and find out more about your disease. There is such hope, but you should be on medication.”

“It won’t stop the MS, though, will it?”

Carolyne shook her head. “No, honey. But with God and the joy and peace only He can give you, you will be more than a conqueror. And I’m praying that God will heal you completely.”

Meghan shuddered. “I just don’t know if I can live with this.” She thumbed through the papers. Carolyne could tell she wanted to read about the disease but was afraid to at the same time. “I don’t remember much about my appointment when the doctor told me I had MS.” She shuddered and then whispered, “I can’t be like my grandmother.”

“And you might not. Over fifty percent of patients never end up in a wheelchair. I am so excited with what I read, Meghan. You have to read it as well. And I’ve included a bio on a woman named Sue Thomas, who used to work with the FBI. She has MS. Her story is wonderful. Read it and gain hope.”

“You have so much information,” Meghan said. “I’m not sure I can believe all of this.”

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Carolyne laughed and patted her hand. “Well, as I said, this disease isn’t a punishment. God doesn’t work like that. Discover His love for you, honey, and you’ll realize that as well. And I think, once you read that information, many of your fears will be laid to rest.”

Meghan hesitated and then leaned forward and hugged Carolyne. “You are a gift sent to help me and you have no idea how much you mean to me.”

Surprised, Carolyne hugged her back. “I’m just one who knows what it’s like to hurt and I want to help you get past the hurting. And if you’d like, I’ll show you how to use the computer and you can research the places I’ve bookmarked for you.”

She felt Meghan shudder and this time she thought it just might be excitement. “Thank you. That would be wonderful.”

“What about making an appointment with a doctor?”

Meghan hesitated. She looked down at the papers and then back to Carolyne. “I think I might want to.”

She caressed the papers. “I just couldn’t believe it when I was diagnosed. All I could see was my grandmother’s face.” She closed her eyes as if remembering. Then she opened them and focused on Carolyne. “Your words have given me hope just like those verses you gave me helped me find peace.”

Carolyne smiled.

“I might actually be able to work again, to live again.”

Carolyne took her hand. “Well, first things first. One of the ways to conquer fear is to learn all you can about the problem. Read up on that. Oh, and by the way, the most common symptom of MS is fatigue.”

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Meghan chuckled.

“Are you going to die from MS?” Sarah asked.

Both women turned at the little girl’s voice they heard. Sarah sat at the table and she was no longer looking at them but writing again and purposely squinting at her paper.

“The information says that people with MS don’t die from MS.”

“My mom died. And they said people don’t always die from cancer.”

Carolyne went to the young girl and squatted down next to her. Hugging her with an arm around her shoulders, she said, “And people work in granaries all the time and never die, until something goes wrong. Sometimes we don’t have the answers, sweetie, to why someone we love dies. But, think of it like a checkers game.

Do you play checkers?”

Sarah nodded.

“Well, you can see all the pieces and where to move them to set them up so they can jump each other right?”

Sarah nodded again. “Yeah.”

“Well, in life, sometimes we can’t see why things are happening. But God can. Like in that checkers game He knows that maybe someone might stop serving Him later and turn away from Him, so He brings them home early, or He sees that if this person comes home early, other people will come to know Him. It’s like a big checkerboard and God knows that this one thing must happen so that everything else will fall into place.”

“So God killed Mom?” Sarah asked, aghast.

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“No!” Carolyne squeezed Sarah tightly. “Sin came into the world. With that, sickness and death came into the world. God doesn’t give us diseases, but sometimes He will allow us to go through a disease because He knows it’s going to save someone else or help someone else to love Him. We were born to love Him and our life here is very short. You know the Bible from church, honey. Paul tells us that to live is Christ but to die is gain.

In other words, he lives every day for God, but if he dies, that’s even better because he will be with God.

“So, though your mom’s death was horrible and is sad to us, God knows why He had to bring her home and we just have to love Him and know that we’ll see her again one day.”

Tears welled up in Sarah’s eyes. “I don’t want her gone though!” She jumped up and ran from the room.

The sound of the bathroom door slamming echoed in the silence.

Carolyne stood, hesitated and then sat back down.

“Oh dear.”

“Do you think she understands?” Meghan asked.

Carolyne shook her head. “No. None of us understands. We just have to accept and go on and trust God.

I’d better go to her.”

She stood again.

Meghan stood. “Let me.”

Carolyne was surprised by Meghan’s offer. But she didn’t argue. She nodded and sat back down.

Meghan walked slowly down the hall to the bathroom. When she got to the door, she knocked.

Sarah didn’t answer.

Poor little girl.

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Meghan pushed open the door and found Sarah sitting on the floor, toilet paper in her hand as she wiped her eyes.

Meghan ignored the glare the little girl gave her and walked in, closing the door behind her.

Suddenly, she wondered why she was there. What had possessed her to get involved?

But she knew. Deep down inside her, she knew.

Going over, she sat down next to the young girl, allowing her body to slide down the wall until she was resting next to the girl. She didn’t say anything for a long time.

Neither did Sarah.

Eventually, she whispered, “Life’s the pits sometimes, isn’t it?”

The little girl shuddered and nodded. “I want my mama back.”

Meghan nodded. “I wanted my daddy back too.”

Sarah looked up at her. Meghan saw it from the corner of her eye. “He left and I never saw him again and it hurt really bad.”

Sarah sniffled and wiped a sleeve-covered arm across her nose.

Meghan slipped an arm around her. “I feel all alone sometimes even now.”

Sarah leaned up against Meghan, and Meghan wilted when she felt tears against her side.

Meghan realized she had started crying too, silent tears, running down her cheeks. “You have your daddy.”

“Sometimes,” the girl muttered, stiffening.

Meghan wasn’t going to touch that comment, as she didn’t know what was going on. “I guess we’ll have to
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share Ms. Carolyne. She’s really worried about you. She has a special love, I think. She takes in people who need loving and loves them.”

Sarah, obviously getting over her tears, pushed away.

“I don’t need love because I have my dad’s love.”

Meghan smiled. “Everyone needs love.”

As she said that, she thought about what Carolyne had told her about God. God loved her. He had given people an entire Bible showing His plan for humans and, if Carolyne was to be believed, it was because God loved her, loved Carolyne, loved Sarah and even had loved Meghan’s grandmother.

Everyone needed love.

That meant her as well.

But could God really love her?

He hadn’t done this to her. But she felt in some ways she deserved it for hating her grandmother so much. The material she’d read over said the disease wasn’t really passed through families.

So why did she end up with this if it wasn’t genetic?

Could she even love God?

Could God keep her from ending up a bitter old woman like her grandmother?

So many questions.

“I have to go finish my homework.”

Meghan glanced at the now-composed Sarah and frowned. “It’s okay to cry.”

“I don’t need to cry.”

“Well, I’m here and so is Ms. Carolyne, if you want to talk.”

Her young eyes averted and she stood. “Don’t tell anyone the stuff I said.”

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Meghan nodded.

Had she helped the young girl any? Meghan wondered as she worked to get up off the floor. She saw Sarah glance back at her, hesitate and then scamper off.

The look in her eye of longing to come back in told Meghan she had made contact on some level.

More than that, talking with the girl had helped her.

It felt good to help someone else and not think about her disease.

Glancing up toward the ceiling, she asked, “God, can You really help me?”

There was no answer. She hadn’t expected one.

She was going to go back and reread those scriptures with the information Carolyne had given her and then read up on her disease.

Maybe there was hope in her future after all.

Chapter Eleven

Meghan rushed into the living room, patting her hair as she hurried along. She didn’t have her cane today as she was walking pretty well.

It had been nearly a week since she’d talked with Carolyne and each day they had discussed more about the Bible.

The rest of the time, Meghan had secluded herself in the apartment, studying and researching information about MS and reading in the Bible about hope.

She hadn’t gone to church with them on Sunday—

she was still a bit too afraid to do that. She remembered the looks of some of the people in town when she’d gone shopping that day with Mary and Margaret.

It wasn’t that they were bad looks. But some had stared. She thought others had probably decided she was inebriated by the way she’d walked, and then when Mary and Margaret had bought her the cane and made such a big production of showing her how to use it, she’d seen looks of pity in some people’s eyes.

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She was just Meghan. Plain old Meghan. But to them she was a drunk or a sick person or someone to be pitied.

The emotions she felt confused her and she wasn’t sure how to react. Did she feel guilty that they were right? She was a drunk, or at least she had been right after her diagnosis. Was she despondent over the MS?

She was angry that people pitied her, but hadn’t she been pitying herself when she’d gotten drunk? Hadn’t she only focused on the disease and refused to hear the hope?

She wanted to explain to them that she was sick but she was still the same person.

So she had called and made an appointment with a neurologist. She couldn’t believe she’d done it, but she had.

She hadn’t gone to church, and hadn’t left the house, for that matter, since that day, but it had been time well spent.

And then Carolyne had convinced her perhaps a smaller group, like the women’s Bible study, would be best to start out in. It had less than thirty women and was a very friendly, low-key affair. They were studying the tabernacle right now and after all of the verses Carolyne had given her regarding that building, Meghan was convinced she should go. She couldn’t believe that every single thing in that building had meanings of Christ shadowing it. That had blown her away, but she still had so many questions.

If she weren’t going for that reason alone, she would admit that she felt she owed Carolyne for all she had done.

Carolyne hadn’t once looked down on her. Instead,
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she’d quietly encouraged Meghan to talk, and talk Meghan had. She had made Meghan feel as if she were at home, part of the family, and accepted.

She had made Meghan feel loved—a feeling she hadn’t felt in years. She had even made Meghan feel as if she just might be able to go out and face the looks she’d received on the streets that day—as long as Carolyne was by her side.