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Authors: Elaine Littau

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BOOK: Six Miles From Nashville
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Since she let her guard down, some of the single customers struck up conversations with her and found her to be easy to talk with. She accepted dates with some of them as long as Sweetie or Susan came along with a date as well.

She wondered if her fear of men would ever go away. She didn’t really trust them much.

Sweetie reveled in each hurdle Betty cleared. The girl opened up like a rose bud coming into full bloom.

Listening to Bill and Betty as they sang their newest creation each morning was a pleasure to her. They were finishing up their session when Sweetie refilled Betty’s coffee cup.

“Betty, I have enjoyed your friendship so much, but I am afraid that I have done you wrong.”

“How is that?”

“I never took you to church with me. You have been here for a year and I never got around to asking you to come. What do you say?”

Betty nodded in answer, “Okay. What time?”

“We go to Sunday School at nine-thirty, so we will pick you up at nine-fifteen, so that you can settle in before the teaching begins. You will love our Sunday School teacher. He is entertaining as well as informative. He reminds me of Zig Ziglar.”

“He is a guy that is, I think they call it, a motivational speaker. He helps companies to get their sales teams in shape.”


I bet Gage has heard of him.”

“Probably.”

Betty finished her coffee and said as she stood, “Miss Sweetie, why did it take you so long to ask me to go to church with you? I told you that I went to Bible College.”

“I guess I thought you would want to go to another church since you have studied and all that. Our little ole church might not meet your expectations.”

Betty laughed at the thought. “I have gone to a small church all my life. When we lived in the country, we went to a little church that was just off the highway. It was in the middle of nowhere. Man, I loved going to that church.”

“Sounds like folks there had to be like family.”

“Nosey, loving, caring, godly, and pushy...just like a real family.”

“Dear me! That sounds like my church,” Sweetie feigned disgust.

“I’m sure I will fit right in,” Betty said as she took glasses of water to the regulars waiting in one of her booths.

 

As Betty walked into the small church, she felt right at home. The hymnals were the same
Songs We Sing
as the ones back home in Guymon. The carpet was burnt orange twisted shag.
They must have just gone through a new remodel project.
A large polished walnut cross hung in the middle wall. It had fluorescent back lighting and was flanked by a Baldwin piano and new Hammond organ.

The teacher stood behind a podium
, directly in front of the pews situated on the left hand side of the church. Couples filed into specific spots in each pew. Betty was aware that most church folk were territorial about the place they chose to be seated. She almost laughed at the memory of an older lady in her church in the country, telling visitors that they were in her seat and that they had to move to another pew.

Each couple possessed a quarterly Sunday School book and had it folded to the lesson of the day. The teacher passed an extra quarterly to her and she promptly found the right lesson.
Maybe they won’t brand me as a sinner since I know my way around a quarterly.
She forced the smirk on her face into a sweet smile.

Mr. Williams was a great teacher. Discussion was encouraged and fluid. The time went by very quickly.

Betty heard the church folk talk about things in the Bible that she hadn’t heard of. One Scripture that she couldn’t get out of her mind was “Be strong and of good courage”

It never
occurred to her that God cared if she had courage or not. She jotted a note to remind her to search out this new concept.

Singing was lively. The organist knew her business. She played with the skill of a
n organist for Mahalia Jackson. A young lean man with the voice of an angel led the song, “Victory in Jesus. My Savior Forever...”

The pianist accentuated the music with frills and runs that fit perfectly with the organ and guitars on the platform. Although the musicians were skilled, they worshipped with abandon. Tears streamed down their faces as they worshiped the God of all creation. “He bought me with His redeeming blood.”

Betty considered the words of the hymn.
Jesus did love me before I knew Him. He loved me when I felt no one else did. Maybe I can experience some victory in my life.

The pastor was less flamboyant than the so
ng leader. He held himself with grace and spoke with authority. The sermon wove the day’s message together between the Sunday School lesson and singing. The Scriptures came to life as he spoke.

1st Corinthians 15:57 “
But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.”

His main point was that Christians can live a victorious life through Jesus. Victory had always be
en elusive to Betty. Her mama warned her not to be ‘high minded’ of herself. Most of her life, she felt that confidence and victory were for the boys playing sports or the girls who cheered for them. It never seemed to be something she could possess.

After the service was over all Betty wanted to do was spend time alone and think about the things she
had heard.

 

Betty looked forward to Sundays and Wednesdays at church. The college age group took her in and she thrived amongst them even though she held herself apart from them. She grew somewhat concerned with the nonchalant attitude of the young people. Some of them wondered why she took things so seriously. She felt that she had lived two lifetimes compared to most of them. Even before she left for Bible College, she had dealt with things none of them had seen before.

Sometimes their immaturity bothered her. She tried to be like them, but never could. The girls spent money on clothes and shoes. She had been raised to save for a
rainy day. Her clothes were adequate. She still had the ones she and her mama had sewn before she  left for school.
Will I ever fit in?

She wondered why she
had always cared so much about what God thought of her.
It is probably because that is the way I was raised. Mama wanted me to care about it, so I did.

In high school Betty attempted running
with the wild crowd, but she couldn’t do it. Her heart was not in it. She cared about Jesus.

She went to the Bible College because she had a thirst for the things of God. It made her bitter because the other students
were just as silly as the people in this new church.

There was only one young woman who seemed to listen to the sermons each week. She was very quiet. Miss Sweetie called her ‘painfully shy’. Betty was drawn to her and hurried from the service to speak to her. The girl walked down the hallway toward the nursery room.

Betty caught up to her and said, “Hi, I wonder if I might have a word with you.”

The girl looked at her feet. “Sure, what can I do for you?”

“I’m Betty. I am new in the church and I...just wanted to make a friend.”

The girl looked through the door at a toddler who was crying loudly. “You might not be interested after you know me. That little screamer is my son, Pete. I am Joan.”

Betty gulped. The baby was around a year old. His shapely little head was covered in golden curls. “This is your son?” she breathed.

“Yes, and just so you know, I’m not married. You are free to run screaming back to your home now.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

Betty watched as Joan picked up Pete. He planted a slobbery kiss on her pale cheek. Joan held him close. “Now that I have him, I’m not sorry.”

“He is an angel.”

Joan laughed and said, “ You don’t know much about babies, do you?”

“Not much,” she admitted.

“So do you still want to get to know me?”

“More than ever.”

Joan studied Betty’s face intently before she responded. “Let’s go to McDonald’s and grab a bite. We can talk there.”

Betty walked with her and carried the diaper bag while Joan carried Pete the short distance to get some burgers.

After they paid for their meals, they sat in a booth by a sunny window.

“You work at Bill and Sweetie’s place
, don’t you?”

“They have been real good to me.”

“Good people,” she agreed.

Joan gave the
youngster a spoon of baby food from a jar in the diaper bag. As soon as he swallowed, his mouth opened wide for another bite.

“So, you want to be friends. Why?”

Betty took a sip from her Coke. “You seem to be more substantial than the other girls our age.”

“Substantial?”

“I am sick of frivolous people. I don’t go to the mall and spend my paycheck on frills. I like to read the Bible. I like to go to church.”

“So, you think I am like you?”

Betty’s lip trembled. “You are, aren’t you?”

“I do love God and the Bible, but I am not someone who is considered to be a good influence.
If your mother were to meet me, she would tell you to turn tail and run.”

“I am on my own now. My mother doesn’t choose my friends. The truth is, she wouldn’t choose me if she knew things about me.”

Joan shoved another large bite of baby food into Pete’s mouth to keep him quiet. “Why not?”

“Listen, I don’t know you and you don’t know me. I don’t even know if you would care what
happened to me.” Tears burst from her eyes as her voice turned into a hoarse whisper, “I was raped and I gave the baby away. I can’t play with the other girls as if I am Barbie living in Malibu when I have done such a terrible thing.”

Pete reached for Joan and she pulled him close to her. “I understand.”

Betty shook her head violently. “You can’t understand.”

“I do. Maybe my circumstances are somewhat different than yours, but I know the self-doubt you have about giving your baby away.”

“How?”

“My baby’s father died in Vietnam. We never had the chance to get married after I found out there was a baby on the way. Everyone thought I should give the baby away. I just couldn’t do it.”

“Oh.”

“No, don’t say that! I couldn’t because I loved Pete’s dad.
From what I understand, you weren’t in love with that rapist.”

“That’s true.”

“A lot of good people adopt little babies.”

Betty sobbed, “ I didn’t have any place to go.”

“So, you are starting over.”

“Trying.”

“Don’t feel guilty about adopting out your baby. You did the best you knew how to do at the time.”

“Thanks for that.”

“Are you gonna try to see him?”

Betty gulped and shook her head, “No. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“We have been through a lot for girls our age.” She observed Betty and held back sympathetic tears.” I have no wish to meet anyone new. I just want to take care of my boy.”

BOOK: Six Miles From Nashville
8.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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