Free A Light in the Window by Julie Lessman

he were pumping water for a man dying of thirst. Or maybe a sister …   “Bless you, Miss Murphy, and you too, Sister Francine—Holly ain’t never had nothing like this happen to her before, so bless you!” He whirled around and rushed to give Holly a hug, then took the papers that Julie gave him and handed them to her as well. With a squeeze of her shoulders, he stepped aside.
    Marcy took a quick swipe at her eyes and leaned forward, awarding Holly the brightest smile she could muster. She noted the faded calico dress the little girl wore that appeared three sizes too big and a pale face that made her appear like a china doll with liquid-brown eyes. “Holly, are you ready to read from the script?”
    The little girl nodded, chestnut hair trailing fragile shoulders as she gave Marcy a sweet smile. “Yes, ma’am,” she whispered, her voice so soft and wispy, Marcy worried that no one would be able to hear.
    “Start at the beginning, then, sweetheart, reading the script just like you’re that little girl in the play who’s excited about Christmas, all right?”
    Holly nodded again and paused … right before she belted out the lines as if they were coming from an entirely different little girl.
    “Excellent!” Marcy said with a grin when Holly had finished. “Are you ready to sing, and do you know the Christmas carol, Oh, Holy Night ?”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    “Perfect!” Marcy glanced up at the piano. “Julie, let’s try C major, all right?”
    Whether it was the fact that it was late and everyone was tired or whether it was the sight of a frail little girl in a wheelchair who longed to be a part of the play, the room stilled to a hush. Marcy’s breath suspended as she waited, the pounding of her own pulse in her ears drowning out Julie’s musical intro. And then, in the sweet and soulful song of a little girl, a steamy and noisy auditorium became the gate of heaven itself as a sound so poignant rose in the room, Marcy had no power over the tears that slipped from her eyes.
    For several thudding heartbeats after the last note was sung, the silence was almost painful, an ache in Marcy’s chest over the loss of a voice that had ushered them into the very presence of God. And then, in a blast of applause that swelled to the ceiling, the audience shot to their feet along with Marcy and Sister Francine, dewy-eyed over a delicate little girl who may not be able to walk, but whose voice could soar to the sky.
    After a whisper in Sister Francine’s ear and Sister’s subsequent nod, Marcy hurried to give Holly a hug, kneeling to clasp the little girl’s hands in her own. “Holly, that was simply the most beautiful thing we have ever heard,” she said with a sheen in her eyes, “and we want you to know right now, young lady, that not only are we giving you a part in this play, but we want you to sing that very song as well. Would you like that?”
    Brown eyes as glossy as Marcy’s blinked back when Holly nodded, her rosebud mouth quivering along with her jaw. “Oh, yes, ma’am,” she whispered, flinging herself into Marcy’s arms with a chuckle that broke into a sob.
    Marcy squeezed the little sprite of a thing, eyes closed and heart rejoicing that even now, before this play came to pass, it was changing lives as Marcy had hoped and prayed. That it wouldn’t just be a mere fundraiser, but a spirit raiser as well, touching people with the grace of God. Jumping to her feet, she hurried to pull two rehearsal packets from Papa’s portfolio and handed them to Holly’s brother, who now stood by her side. “Nate, please give these to your mother so she knows the exact dates Holly and you will need to be here. There’s a full script inside each packet, so you need to practice both of your parts together. You will play the part of Daniel, and Holly will play the part of Sara—” She paused, her eyes softening as they lighted on his sister once again. “No, wait—Holly will play herself.” She glanced up