Free The Judgment by Beverly Lewis Page B

the headboard, then leaned back. “Was that a prayer you were reading?”
    Beth nodded. “It’s a healing prayer.” She paused, fingering the notebook. “From my heart to God’s.”
    Rose didn’t know what to say. For as often as she’d prayed in her life, she’d never written down a single one.
    Beth closed her notebook. “Remember when we talked at my house about God?”
    Rose hadn’t forgotten.
    “You said He knows everything, even the day we are born . . . and the day we’ll die, too.” Beth looked at the ceiling for a moment. “Well, the very next day I wrote a letter to God about that.” She leaned forward and tilted her head to look outside at the sky from where she sat. “I’ve been talking that way to Him for a long time, mostly in my notebook pages.”
    Rose listened, not knowing what to think or say. Beth’s so naïve, she realized anew.
    Beth’s eyes were filled with an appealing light. And Rose did not want to discourage her, especially if God had put it in her heart to pray for Mamm. “The Lord knows all of our thoughts and the intent of our heart,” Rose told Beth.
    “Will you read my prayer?” Beth handed the notebook to Rose.
    She accepted it but held Beth’s gaze, not wanting to intrude unless Beth was absolutely certain. “Are ya sure?”
    With eyes shining, Beth nodded. And Rose began to read aloud.
Dear God,
Daddy says you never sleep, so I wonder if you’re looking over my shoulder while I write this prayer. There’s someone in this house who’s suffering. She needs your help. Every time I look at Rosie’s mommy, I feel like crying. I wonder: Do you cry for Mrs. Kauffman, too?
In my mommy’s Bible, I read once that you healed people when you lived on earth. That’s why I’m writing this prayer, because you see everything. When you read this, will you help Rosie’s poor mother? If it’s in your will, I know I’m supposed to say.
I hope you read this prayer very soon!
Love,
Beth Browning
    Brushing back her tears, Rose struggled to see the last few lines. “Oh, Beth . . . this is the sweetest thing.”
    Beth touched her hand. “I didn’t want to make you cry. Are you all right, Rosie?”
    Rose blinked and smiled, trying to regain her composure. Why can’t all of us be more like Beth?

    Solomon hitched Upsy-Daisy, one of his driving horses, to the family carriage and headed for Quarryville to the land-development office that morning. Brandon had worked there for at least four years now, but Sol had never so much as stopped by.
    He had known today upon waking what he needed to do. Regardless of the result, he must at least try to make a connection with his son-in-law. But when he neared the street where Brandon’s office suite was located, Sol suddenly wondered how he was going to secure his horse. Standing outside the buggy, he looked around for someplace to tether the mare. Unlike other business establishments, there was not a single hitching post to be seen.
    Just then, a sports car crept in next to the horse and carriage. And Sol must’ve been wearing concern all over his face, because the lady driver hopped out and pointed to her side mirror. “Tie your horse here,” she said with a toss of her reddish hair. “I’ll be parked here all morning.”
    “Denki. Mighty kind of ya.”
    She smiled. “My grandpa’s Amish. Maybe you know him.”
    “Oh?” Sol felt awkward talking to this pretty young woman who looked about Hen’s age.
    “My Dawdi Dan lives up near Smoketown, though.”
    He knew more than two handfuls of Dans, but he shook his head. “We rarely get up that way.”
    Sol wanted to ask why she wasn’t Plain, too. “Have a gut day, and thanks again.”
    “Any time,” she said, and hurried toward the small building.
    Sol turned to his horse now, telling the mare he wouldn’t be long. Then he tied her to the sports car’s sideview mirror, looking about him to make sure someone didn’t think he was as crazy as he surely looked.

    Mattie Sue