Free A Storybook Finish by Lauralee Bliss

lunch.
    When Lindsay had selected her lunch, she stood with the
    tray in her hands, trying to decide where to sit. The students
    found tables together where they shared about the things
    happening in their young lives. Jeff sat alone at a far table
    with his nose buried in the Christian tour guide. Lindsay
    boldly marched over and placed her club sandwich and spring
    water opposite him. He peeked over the book with eyes the
    color of a deep mountain lake. Then he put the book down,
    bent over his ham sandwich, and began eating.
    “Looks like the students want to eat on their own without
    us adults hanging over them,” Lindsay said.
    Jeff said nothing. Lindsay offered a silent prayer for her
    food before looking at her sandwich. She sincerely hoped this
    wouldn’t be one of those luncheons where people sat stonefaced
    with fidgety fingers, wondering what words to say that
    would not offend the other person. It reminded her of stuffy
    get-togethers with relatives at holiday time. She would sit in
    her fancy dress, waiting for someone to engage her in meaningful
    conversation. After enduring it all as a youth, Lindsay
    made it a point to get the conversation going, no matter what.
    “That was quite a speech you gave in the rotunda today.”
    She unfolded a napkin and placed it in her lap.
    65 He stiffened at her words.
    Oh, no. I’ve said the wrong thing already, and I’ve only been
    seated here one minute.
    “If it was meant to be a speech, I would have gone into politics,”
    he said. “It was supposed to be a history lesson.”
    “I know that. I only meant it was very moving. Did you see
    how the students hardly even whispered after that?”
    … Jeff’s gaze left her and traveled to the other tables where
    the students ate their lunches. Lindsay followed his lead to find
    Jewel and Troy at the table. Robbie sat with them, appearing
    to monopolize the conversation. Lindsay inhaled a sharp
    breath. I’m sure nothing good will come of that meeting.
    Jeff’s voice broke the silence. “I feel sorry for a lot of these
    young people. Many of them have never set foot in a church.
    Troy tells me his father was a drunk. No wonder they end up
    the way they do. They try to find what they’re looking for in
    music, relationships, even substance abuse. They don’t know
    that what they’re seeking is staring them straight in the face,
    like the painting of the Pilgrims praying to God before their
    voyage. You tell them the truth, but it doesn’t seem to sink in.”
    Jeff leaned forward in a move that startled Lindsay. “If only
    they could look at the paintings in the rotunda and get a
    vision for themselves. They can reach higher and go further
    with God on their side. That’s what I’m trying to show them,
    Lindsay, if only they would open their eyes.”
    Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of her name floating
    from his lips. It came forth in such tender fashion, as if he truly
    wanted her to understand the burdens he carried. Perhaps he
    never had an opportunity to share his vision with anyone.
    Jeff sat back abruptly, picked up a straw, and jammed it into
    the drinking cup. “Well, it doesn’t matter. No one wants to
    66 hear the truth. The teachers accuse me of mixing religion and
    a public institution. I have committed the ultimate crime in
    my profession, indoctrinating students with the Bible. I’m
    telling them that Someone cares about them. It might actually
    change them for the better. They say it’s the worst thing I
    can possibly do.”
    Lindsay chuckled at the sarcasm in his voice. His gaze fell
    on her face. “The Bible has become pretty dangerous these
    days,” she agreed. “No wonder Scripture speaks of the Word as
    sharper than a two-edged sword. It’s just a book; yet no one
    dares come near it. It must be a powerful tool, simply by the
    negative reaction you receive.”
    His blue eyes misted over, like a fog muting a once brilliant
    autumn sky. “You do understand, don’t you? I had a