Free Second Chance with Love by Alana Hart, Ruth Tyler Philips Page B

The bathroom was across the hall. She went into the bathroom and stopped in front of the mirror. As she sat in the bath she tried to relax and forget Nathan and her mother , but it was futile, the tussle of conflicting thoughts ran rampant in her mind. Aww, I really want to sleep tonight , Hilda thought. But she knew sleep wasn't going to come easily with her surging fears. Please mother, if you must stay, just stay away from me . Hilda chastised herself. How could she think such a thing about her mother? Was this any way to speak of Aaron's grandmother? What if he would develop such bad habits towards his grandmother? God said to honor thy parents, but she dishonored her mother. Before she spiraled down to negative thoughts that would've been impossible to escape, Hilda took a deep breath. She peered into a mirror to see how the dark circles around her eyes made her look like a zombie.
    She stared up underneath the top bunk. She knew from this hour onwards she would be waking in fitful spurts, recalling flashes of dreams and regrets that would seem so real in the night. Some of what haunted her sleep would be actual memories that would shame her and some would be her imagination going into overdrive. Either way, both were going to suck. And she didn't look forward to the morning feeling of grogginess and lethargy.
    Hilda was crying. She picked Aaron up, holding him, hugging him. She closed her eyes and exhaled, certain no one saw the thin tears. She had practiced this over the years, crying in public. Abigail, Charles, church members Rosa and Carlos had driven Aaron from the airport. Hilda would have been there when the plane came in, but she had to go into the village and.
    "I see you are looking thin as ever, Hilda." The words were followed by a tut and a long sigh that cut like a knife edge. Hilda turned towards a face which, but for the peppery gray hairs and wrinkles, resembled her own.
    "Hello, mother." Hilda hugged her mother.
    That morning before Hilda had dragged herself out of bed, then collapsed onto her knees and pressed her shaking hands together. Her hands shook from fear, worry and, tiredness. She prayed, "Oh, Lord, please give me strength, patience, and understanding to not react if my mother tries to provoke me into an argument. Nothing I have done has ever pleased her, I am never good enough for her. And I'm afraid her opinions could influence Aaron's perception of me.”
    The usual accusations Hilda's mother hurled was that Hilda was an unappreciative, rebellious, and stupid girl. The berating always proved too much for Hilda, causing a migraine to strike and making Hilda feel caged in her pain.
    Justine Borja watched Hilda as she read Mark 4:35-40 to to the classroom, where Jesus calmed the storm. Justine pursed her lips at Hilda. Hilda was aware that her mother was watching, her voiced would not stop quavering.
    "I respect your decisions Hilda," said her mother in an unusual soft tone. "I just fail to understand what it is you think you'll accomplish on a short term mission trip?"
    Hilda gazed in disbelief at the woman who sat kitty-corner to her, arms folded.
    "Sorry mother?" Hilda avert her eyes from Rosa's smiling face, just at the point where Rosa twisted to look over at Hilda's mother, at which point the attention of the rest of the children were also pulled toward the corner where her mother sat.
    The triumph that pasted Hilda's mother's face never took the form of smile. Had Hilda witnessed her mother smile that moment, she would have been left awestruck, a smile before a verbal assault did not fit her mother. Also, Hilda was unable to remember the last time she saw her mother smile. The triumph that wrapped Hilda's mother's face was conveyed through a permanent scowl.
    "A waste of time and money." Hilda's mother leaned back in a chair and folded her arms. "These kids need people who are willing to stay with them beyond a few weeks."
    Hilda didn't want her mother embarrassing her. She looked at