Free A Sister's Hope by Wanda E. Brunstetter
Authors: Wanda E. Brunstetter
it’s potatoes.”
“I like ’em, too, Papa,” nine-year-old Esta said. “So does Owen and Josh.” She looked over at her older brother, Gideon, and frowned. “I ain’t so sure ’bout him, though. Gideon don’t like much of anything these days.”
“It’s ‘I’m not’ not ‘I ain’t,’ Esta,” Abe said. “And let’s not get anything started between you and your bruder right now.”
“Argumentative kids—that’s one of the reasons my wife and I have decided not to have any children,” Ken said with a shake of his head. “I don’t think either of us has the patience for it.”
“Raising children isn’t just about dealing with arguments,” Mom said. “It’s a joy to watch your children grow up.” She patted Martha’s hand. “I wouldn’t trade being a mother for anything.”
A lump formed in Ruth’s throat. She had wanted to be a mother for such a long time, but the tragic accident that had claimed Martin’s life and left her unable to have any children of her own had ended those hopes. She glanced at Abe out of the corner of her eye and realized he was smiling at her. Thank You, Lord, for bringing this kind man into my life. Thank You for giving me the chance to be a mudder to Abe’s special kinner.
As the family continued to eat their Thanksgiving meal, they talkedabout the beautiful fall weather they’d been having, Martha’s dog venture, Cleon’s bee business, Dad’s woodworking shop, and Ruth’s upcoming wedding.
Finally, pushing his empty plate away from him, Dad announced, “Now that we’ve eaten such a good meal, I think we should take turns saying what we’re thankful for. I’ll get things started by going first.” He leaned back in his chair. “I’m thankful we’re all in good health and able to be together today. God has walked by our side this past year, and I think our faith has been strengthened, despite the attacks against us.” He nodded at Mom. “Judith, why don’t you go next?”
Mom smiled and had just opened her mouth to speak, when— ka-boom! —an earth-shattering noise from outside rattled the windows.
Everyone jumped up and rushed out the door.
As they started down the driveway, Ruth saw smoke and flames shooting into the air.
“It’s my shop!” Dad hollered. “It’s been blown to bits!”
M artha ran down the driveway after the men. Her heart leaped into her throat when she saw what was left of Dad’s shop. Pieces of wood and burning debris lay everywhere.
“Someone, run to the phone shed and call 911!” Dad shouted as he, Cleon, Abe, and Ken raced for the two hoses connected to the water faucet near his shop.
“I’ll call on my cell phone,” Ken hollered.
Martha glanced around the yard, hoping to spot the person who had done this horrible deed. Except for her family and their Thanksgiving guests, who were now all gathered on Mom and Dad’s front porch wearing stunned expressions, she saw no one in sight. Whoever had blown up Dad’s shop had taken a chance doing it in broad daylight.
Martha’s heart nearly stopped beating. No. The person responsible for this attack must have known they were having their meal at Cleon and Grace’s place.
“Oh, dear Lord,” Martha said, “how can this be happening to us?”
Grace and Ruth joined her on the lawn, but Mom remained on the porch with Sharon and the children.
“I. . .I can’t believe this.” Ruth’s voice quavered, and her eyes widened with obvious fear. “Must we let these attacks keep going on until someone else is hurt?”
Martha put her arm around Ruth’s waist. “Ken’s called 911. I’m sure the sheriff will be here soon. Once he finds out what’s happened,he’ll hopefully try to find out who’s responsible for blowing up Dad’s shop.”
Ray and Donna Larson dashed into the yard just then. “We heard an explosion and saw smoke and flames coming from your place!” Ray shouted. “I phoned the fire department right away!”
“My cousin phoned them,
“I like ’em, too, Papa,” nine-year-old Esta said. “So does Owen and Josh.” She looked over at her older brother, Gideon, and frowned. “I ain’t so sure ’bout him, though. Gideon don’t like much of anything these days.”
“It’s ‘I’m not’ not ‘I ain’t,’ Esta,” Abe said. “And let’s not get anything started between you and your bruder right now.”
“Argumentative kids—that’s one of the reasons my wife and I have decided not to have any children,” Ken said with a shake of his head. “I don’t think either of us has the patience for it.”
“Raising children isn’t just about dealing with arguments,” Mom said. “It’s a joy to watch your children grow up.” She patted Martha’s hand. “I wouldn’t trade being a mother for anything.”
A lump formed in Ruth’s throat. She had wanted to be a mother for such a long time, but the tragic accident that had claimed Martin’s life and left her unable to have any children of her own had ended those hopes. She glanced at Abe out of the corner of her eye and realized he was smiling at her. Thank You, Lord, for bringing this kind man into my life. Thank You for giving me the chance to be a mudder to Abe’s special kinner.
As the family continued to eat their Thanksgiving meal, they talkedabout the beautiful fall weather they’d been having, Martha’s dog venture, Cleon’s bee business, Dad’s woodworking shop, and Ruth’s upcoming wedding.
Finally, pushing his empty plate away from him, Dad announced, “Now that we’ve eaten such a good meal, I think we should take turns saying what we’re thankful for. I’ll get things started by going first.” He leaned back in his chair. “I’m thankful we’re all in good health and able to be together today. God has walked by our side this past year, and I think our faith has been strengthened, despite the attacks against us.” He nodded at Mom. “Judith, why don’t you go next?”
Mom smiled and had just opened her mouth to speak, when— ka-boom! —an earth-shattering noise from outside rattled the windows.
Everyone jumped up and rushed out the door.
As they started down the driveway, Ruth saw smoke and flames shooting into the air.
“It’s my shop!” Dad hollered. “It’s been blown to bits!”
M artha ran down the driveway after the men. Her heart leaped into her throat when she saw what was left of Dad’s shop. Pieces of wood and burning debris lay everywhere.
“Someone, run to the phone shed and call 911!” Dad shouted as he, Cleon, Abe, and Ken raced for the two hoses connected to the water faucet near his shop.
“I’ll call on my cell phone,” Ken hollered.
Martha glanced around the yard, hoping to spot the person who had done this horrible deed. Except for her family and their Thanksgiving guests, who were now all gathered on Mom and Dad’s front porch wearing stunned expressions, she saw no one in sight. Whoever had blown up Dad’s shop had taken a chance doing it in broad daylight.
Martha’s heart nearly stopped beating. No. The person responsible for this attack must have known they were having their meal at Cleon and Grace’s place.
“Oh, dear Lord,” Martha said, “how can this be happening to us?”
Grace and Ruth joined her on the lawn, but Mom remained on the porch with Sharon and the children.
“I. . .I can’t believe this.” Ruth’s voice quavered, and her eyes widened with obvious fear. “Must we let these attacks keep going on until someone else is hurt?”
Martha put her arm around Ruth’s waist. “Ken’s called 911. I’m sure the sheriff will be here soon. Once he finds out what’s happened,he’ll hopefully try to find out who’s responsible for blowing up Dad’s shop.”
Ray and Donna Larson dashed into the yard just then. “We heard an explosion and saw smoke and flames coming from your place!” Ray shouted. “I phoned the fire department right away!”
“My cousin phoned them,