Free Winter of Grace by Kate Constable Page B

Let the soldiers be okay. Please watch over the innocent people. I paused. Thank you for Jay and Elliot. Please look after them both . And even though I knew they’d hate it, I added, Please watch over my mum, and over Stella too. And me , I added as an afterthought. Thank you.
    That was where my words ran out, so I opened my eyes and looked out into the dark. And I knew that something, someone, somewhere, had been listening to me, and I felt the most wonderful sense of peace.

AS SOON AS I woke up in the morning, I knew there was something exciting that I had to remember – and then it came to me. God was real! God was real, and I was going to get to know Him better. The knowledge lay in my heart, solid and radiant as a pearl. And the answer to a question that I hadn’t asked presented itself with crystal certainty: I couldn’t keep it a secret from Mum any longer. That was a lie, and it was wrong. I would have to tell her.
    It was a Tim-and-Stella morning. As we walked, I waited for Stella to ask me about youth group, but she talked about other things – school stuff, her concert, the latest war news – as if she didn’t want to know, as if she was determined to pretend it hadn’t happened.
    But all the time we were walking under the grey and golden sky, I was aware of a kind of glow inside me. As if God were watching me. What did He see? Oh, God , I prayed silently. Let me be the best person I can be; let me be perfect, for You.
    â€˜Hello?’ said Stella. ‘Are you even listening to me?’
    â€˜Sorry,’ I said hastily. But I wasn’t listening, not really. Between my conversation with God, and rehearsing the conversation I was going to have with Mum when I got home, I didn’t have much attention to spare for Stella.
    â€˜Mum.’
    â€˜Mm?’ She didn’t even look up from the paper.
    â€˜Mum, I have to tell you,’ I took a deep breath, ‘that youth group you didn’t want me to go to? I went.’
    For a second Mum didn’t say anything. She pressed her hands flat on the tabletop. Then she murmured something.
    â€˜Sorry?’
    â€˜I said, turn it off .’
    Her voice was jerky; I stumbled across the kitchen to switch off the radio, and stayed there, barricading myself behind a chair. There was a long pause. Maybe Mum was counting to ten before she spoke.
    â€˜Are you planning to go again?’
    â€˜You told me I should make some new friends …’
    â€˜Believe me, this is not what I had in mind!’
    â€˜What’s the big deal?’ I said. ‘What’s your problem ? Just because you’re a scientist, I can’t even think about religion? Because you don’t believe in God, no one else is allowed to? Why shouldn’t I explore my spirituality? Mish thinks it’s a great idea.’
    Mum snorted. ‘Mish would .’
    Then I remembered. ‘Mish said I should ask you why you’re so anti-religion.’
    Mum’s face went white. ‘Mish should mind her own business.’
    Then I lost it. ‘You are such a hypocrite! You can’t control where I go. You can’t control what friends I make, and you really can’t control what I believe! Why don’t you mind your own business?’
    I stormed down the corridor and slammed my bedroom door. The lovely serenity of the morning had dissolved, like mist off the river. All that was left was hurt and rage. I tried to think, Dear God … But I was too furious to pray.
    There was a knock at the door.
    â€˜Go away!’ I yelled.
    â€˜Please, Bridie,’ came Mum’s muffled voice. ‘We need to talk.’
    I scuffed my shoes on the floorboards, and then I got up and let her in. I sat on the edge of the bed with my arms folded, staring at the wall.
    Mum pulled out my chair and sat down. There was silence.
    â€˜Well?’ I said at last. ‘I’m going to be late for school.’
    â€˜You can be late