Under the Peach Tree (18 page)

I smiled, and thanked God. I thanked Him for the new life He'd blessed me with. The friend I found in Dante, the mother I found in May, the woman I found inside of myself. That little girl was growing up. Happy birthday to me.

Dante wouldn't tell me what he had planned for my birthday. He just drove with a smile on his face and said nothing whenever I asked . . . and I asked every few minutes. He pulled up in front of Rising Faith Ministries and turned off the car. I frowned, wondering why we were even at the church.

“Your gift is inside. Come on.” Dante opened the car door.

“Inside of the church?” My words came out as a whisper. Sweat began to drip from my forehead. I was frozen in my seat.

“Yes, come on.”

“No!” I yelled a little too loudly. “I'm not going in there!”

Dante sighed. “You got to get past your fears if you want the gift.”

“How about you bring it to me? Because I ain't going in there.”

“You have to come inside to get it, Hope. You can do it.”

“No, Dante, you don't understand.” I sighed in frustration. “I'm not ready to step foot into a church. I can't do it.”

“Hope, you're never going to be ready. You have to face your fears head-on. You can do it.”

Tears started pouring from my eyes as I shook my head. “No, why would you do this? You can't force someone to get over their fears, Dante. I'm not going in that church. I'm not. Forget the gift. I don't care! This is the worst birthday. Just take me home!” I yelled, causing Dante to look hurt.

“After everything I did to prepare for this, after everything Pastor May did, you say this is your worst birthday?” He was truly hurt. He shut his car door and started the car. “Pastor May must be wrong about that dream she had about us getting married. I wouldn't marry a selfish girl who says she loves God but can't step foot into His house.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because it's the truth!” Dante sped off, knocking me back in my seat. I'd never seen him angry before. He was full of surprises.

I did feel bad about my comment, stating it was the worst birthday. That wasn't true. It was the best birthday but just one of my worst moments. I almost had a panic attack and Dante didn't understand.

If I was selfish, so was he. You couldn't force someone to do something they didn't want to do, especially on their birthday, and then get mad at them. He cared more about me going in to that church than the actual gift he would give me.

Dante dropped me off without saying a word, and kept on going. I was hurt that he wouldn't stay the night, the way he had every day since Momma May had been in the hospital. I felt empty and alone in that house. I went straight to my room and slept the rest of my birthday evening away.

That next day, Dante didn't show up to take me to the hospital the way he did every morning. I called up to the hospital and spoke with Momma May, who said Dante was sitting at the edge of her bed playing checkers. I almost hung up on Momma May in anger. After I got off of the phone with her, I decided to catch the bus just to show Dante that I didn't need him or his car.

By the time I got to the hospital, Dante was already gone. Momma May was in a deep sleep and I decided not to wake her. So I just sat there, reliving the past few days and allowing everything to sink in.

I thought about Norma's drug problem and how she was able to hide it so well. When I first met her, I thought she was a beautiful, light-skinned woman, with beautiful silky hair, much like Faith's. She looked like she had a great job and a beautiful family. But now, I wasn't so sure. It could've all been a façade. I prayed that her kids weren't affected by her drug addiction.

And then I thought about how angry Dante was with me. Out of all people, he and Momma May seemed to be the most understanding. How could he have thought he'd be able to convince me to go into that church? No present on earth was enough to convince me to go inside of a church. It only reminded me of a childhood I wished to forget. It only made me feel empty and unloved. I didn't want that. I didn't want to relive any of it. Maybe Momma was right; maybe I really didn't belong to God if I wouldn't even step foot into a church.

But the fact that Dante acted so unchristian-like was what bothered me. He was the strong one, rooted firmly in the Word. Surely there was a scripture in the Bible preaching against how he behaved. Maybe Proverbs? I hadn't really gotten into Proverbs yet, but I heard it was a book that taught wisdom and knowledge. But Dante held on to his anger. He said hurtful things to me. He went to see Momma May without me. I was so angry, I couldn't care less whether he ever spoke to me again.

But if he never did and if Momma May died who would I have? God. I knew I'd have God. But that was different from having an actual human near. Even God Himself said that it wasn't good for man to be alone. I wasn't the type of girl who liked solitude. It was in the quiet of nights that the devil burdened my thoughts with insecurities. He whispered them so subtly that I thought they were my own thoughts. I didn't like to be alone, let alone cry over the things I couldn't change.

Dread entered my heart, a dark, abysmal feeling that suffocated me. I inhaled sharply, holding my chest, trying not to cry. Momma May was going to pass away soon. I couldn't fathom it.

“Hope?” Momma May's blind eyes searched the room until she heard me inhale again. “When did you get here, baby?”

“Maybe ten minutes ago. How you feeling today?”

“Blessed. Dante told me what happened.”

“I hate him,” I said in anger.

“Hate is a strong word, baby. You should say that you ‘dislike' his actions at the moment.”

“I dislike his actions, period. I can't stand him, Momma May.”

“Ah, there were times where I couldn't stand my own husband.” She laughed, recalling a memory. “I remember when we had our first big argument. We'd just been married for a week. We'd moved everything into our new house and was settled for the most part. But what he didn't understand was that I was blind in a new home. I couldn't easily feel my way around the house like I usually could. It would take weeks to get familiar enough with that house before I could comfortably walk around. So he had to do everything, plus work and minister on Sundays. I felt really bad about my handicap. But he never complained. I thought it was because he understood. But, baby, men don't always understand how we operate. See, he had been holding his irritation in that eventually it exploded and I was the one in its path.”

“What happened?”

“I asked him to get me something to drink and he said, ‘You got two legs, get your own drink! I'm tired of catering to your every need! You better feel your way into that kitchen, woman!'”

My eyes widened. “He said that?”

“Oh yes, he did. And he didn't stop there either. ‘If I would've known how hard it would be to take care of a blind woman, I woulda asked Jesus to bring me a better wife!'”

“Oh, no, he didn't!” I felt my face boiling and yet Momma May smiled.

“When people are angry, they say things they don't always mean . . . especially men. Oh, I gave him the silent treatment for a whole week. I told him if he thought it was hard being married to a blind woman, let's see how it was to be married to one who's blind and mute.”

I laughed. “I bet he ain't like that.”

“Not one bit. But it made him appreciate me more, knowing that things could always be worse. He apologized, said he'd been overloaded with stress at work and took it out on me. He said it was nothing but the devil trying to take away the only good thing in life. Plus, I took a deeper look into my situation and realized I wasn't being the woman I needed to be. So I got myself up and learned my way around that house. It improved our marriage.”

I dropped my head. “And, let me guess, you think I should forgive Dante.”

“Yes. He doesn't understand why you don't like to go to church like I do, Hope. Let him see from your eyes.”

“So, does that mean you understand my point of view in that situation?” I asked.

“I understand both points of view, Hope. Dante's birthday present to you wasn't inside of that church, it was helping you get over your greatest fear. I actually gave him the idea, however, he didn't implement it correctly. Hope, you will have to face your fears head-on. You can pray for deliverance all day long but God is not going to force you into it. Sometimes He will. But in this case, you have to walk into it. You have to be stronger than your fears or you'll never be the woman of God He intends for you to be. Do you understand that, Hope?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“And don't worry, sweetie. I got on Dante about that mouth and anger of his. He knows he was wrong.”

“Well, I still ain't ready to forgive him.”

“In due time, you will.”

Momma May and I spent the rest of the day talking about anything and everything until it tired her out, which didn't take long. She was such a wise woman, almost as if God Himself spoke every word from her mouth. She had a story for everything, and every story was meant to teach. Every story had a way of wrapping itself around my heart, feeding it with truth. And that's what God teaches us. We are to use our words to lift people up, not tear them down. That was the difference between my birth mother and my spiritual mother. My birth mother only spoke words meant to tear me down. Everything she said was from the devil. She wanted to keep me low so that I wouldn't ever be able to walk into my greatness. The devil has a powerful influence over those who give him that power. But now I stepped on the devil's head daily. He would not be victorious.

Surprisingly, Dante was sitting on the porch as I walked up to the house later that night. I could tell by his low head, the way his shoulders slouched, that he felt remorse.
Good.

It was a beautiful night. John had once said, “The sound of nature is at its best once the sun goes down. Every day life tends to distract us from the beauty of life, the things that bring true joy. We tend to miss out on the secrets of nature, things long forgotten from ancient times. Like how soothing it is to listen to grasshopper's music, to the owls hooting in nearby trees, to the critters rummaging about in bushes. And the stars seemed to shine brighter at night.”

“Hey,” Dante said, eying me warily.

I fought down the urge to be difficult and settled for a “Hi.”

“Are you just now getting back from the hospital?”

“Yeah, because somebody was acting funny.”
Welp, there goes my attempt at not being difficult.

Dante sighed. “I'm sorry . . . for everything I said. I didn't mean any of it.”

“Whatever, Dante. I don't even care anymore. It is what it is.”

I took a seat next to him and stared out at the dark night. I remember being a kid and looking up to the sky, wondering what all was out there.
The stars are much brighter in the country; the city lights are too distracting. People decorate the city in lights and forget about the stars and moon. We'd rather busy ourselves with Times Square than sitting under the sky, learning the constellations.

Society has a way of distracting us from the things that really mean the most. Children are too consumed by video games and television to go outside and play. Adults would rather watch someone else's reality on TV than create their own. What happened to spending all day outside? I remember the joy of it. Now we complain about cramped legs from sitting on the couch all day. We're fatter than we used to be. We're never satisfied because we're brainwashed to think something better is around the corner. A new phone, a new car, a new sandwich at some fast food restaurant. Has technology replaced God? Has money? Have we replaced ourselves with something less human?

I made a promise to myself to stay true to nature. So when I looked at the stars and was reminded of how humans had regressed over the centuries, I clung to them.
They are constant. When everything around me changes, the stars, they stay the same. Kinda like God.

But all stars die and He lives forever.

Maybe it's actually a big difference.

“What are you looking at?” Dante asked, following my eyes up to the sky.

“The stars. Do you ever wonder what's all out there?”

“Everything,” he responded. “Hopes, dreams, the future, our prayers.”

I nodded. “Do you think God lives in outer space?”

“I think He lives beyond it. There's so much we just can't see, or possibly begin to understand. But I think God is beyond the stars and galaxies.”

“Why do you think He created all of the stars and other planets if He was just going to use the earth?”

“That's a question you have to save for God. He has a lot of things He plans on sharing with us.”

I guessed that was as good an answer as any. Maybe God would share all of His secrets with us like an episode of
How It's Made.

Science has gone a long way, but we can't possibly begin to understand all of the universe's ways. Some scientists are so convinced in their science that they ignore the fact that there is a God. Science is just a way for our human minds to understand how God created everything. Regardless, people never want to give God credit for His works.
That was something Momma May taught me during those long visiting hours at the church. She was so full of wisdom.

I hadn't realized how much I'd learned just by being in her presence. I'd find myself referencing her teachings throughout my day. Well, God worked her teachings into my heart and I'd take them wherever I went.

I instantly felt said, just thinking about Momma May.

The doctors sad her condition was worsening each day. They had managed to get the blood flow back on track to where she didn't need any machines, but her body was beginning to shut down. Her skin started to look gray and she began losing her hair. I noticed once while brushing it.