Free Hannah's Gift by Maria Housden Page A

dropped their cloths and flew down the stairs, throwing themselves into Laurajane’s arms. Planting a loud kiss on each of their cheeks, she lifted them over the side of the jeep and buckled both of them in. As the four of us backed down the driveway, Laurajane beeped the horn. Claude paused, grinned, and waved.
    The sun was high in the sky and warm on our faces. Laurajane stepped on the gas.
    “Faster!” Hannah yelled from the backseat as the wind whipped through the open jeep.
    Laurajane and I glanced at each other and grinned. Her eyes were bright and wild. I knew mine were, too. Laurajane stepped on the gas. The jeep shot forward. We all whooped with glee. This was the most fun I’d had in a long time.
    “Hey, Mom!” Hannah screamed. “I can feel the wind in my hair!”
    I spun around to look. Sure enough, I could see it for the first time in the bright sunlight. Hannah’s bald head was now covered with the slightest brush of down, and every wisp of it was standing on end in the stiff breeze. Hannah ran her hands over her scalp.
    “I have hair,” she screamed. “I have hair!”
    “Yahoo!” Will whooped, leaning across the seat to give her a hug.
    I started to cry. Laurajane did, too.
    I mouthed the words “Thank you, thank you.”
    She reached across the front seat and gave my hand a squeeze. As we hurtled around a bend, Hannah shrieked again.
    “Pastor LJ, Mommy. That’s where I’m going to live!”
    I looked where she was pointing. There, on the corner, was the pinkest house I had ever seen; every inch of it was painted light rose, except for its deep maroon trim.
    “Yuck, Hannah,” Will yelled. “That house is totally pink!”
    Hannah giggled and screamed in his ear. “I’m going to have a pink car with no top on it, too.”
    Will shook his head and rolled his eyes.
    “Girls,” he said.

Nothing Special
    SUNSET LICKED LIGHT FROM THE SKY. IT HAD BEEN another warm spring day. The air smelled ripe and muddy. Claude and I held hands and walked while Will and Hannah ran ahead. I was now six months pregnant, and I could feel the baby shift and settle into the rhythm of my stride.
    Will’s friend David was in the driveway of his house, playing basketball with his dad. Alan and Claude had coached a Little League team together and sometimes played pickup games of basketball with other dads on Tuesday evenings. David’s little brother Michael, who was a few months older than Hannah, was squatting in the front yard, poking a stick into the dirt. Will cupped his hands and shouted to David, who grinned and hurled a long pass to him. Will caught the ball, dribbled to the hoop, and missed. Hannah, meanwhile, found a stick and joined Michael in the dirt. Alan saw Claude and me and waved. By the time Claude and I reached them, Alan, ducking and wheeling around the two older boys, had faked a few misses of his own.
    “I need some help here, buddy,” he called out.
    Claude laughed and joined in. MaryAnn, Alan’s wife, poked her head out the front door.
    “I was wondering what all the commotion was about,” she said, grinning.
    She motioned for me to join her on the front step.
    “Hey, Michael,” she shouted. “What are you two up to?”
    “We’re looking for bugs,” Hannah said.
    “And worms,” Michael added.
    “Yeah, and worms,” Hannah said.
    “Oh, great,” MaryAnn said, rolling her eyes. “I guess that means a second bath for both of you tonight.”
    It was right then that it happened. It was such a strange and glorious thing that if I hadn’t experienced it myself, I wouldn’t have believed it was possible. I forgot that Hannah was sick !
    I wasn’t even aware of having forgotten. It was as if I had been sucked out of the story of cancer, treatment, worry, and death. Hannah was playing in the dirt, and I was visiting with a friend. It was a moment of nothing special, of nothing going on.
    In a flash, whatever had sucked me up spit me out again. Even so, something felt different. Although