A Sister's Forgiveness (45 page)

“I was in the consignment shop where I took most of my clothes the other day, and the owner told me they were selling like hotcakes,” Jeannie told Emma as they scrubbed down walls and washed floors side by side. “We’ll have our bills paid off in no time.”

“Das ist gut, Jeannie.” Emma stood up and stretched her back. “Ready for Tessa’s room?” she asked. It was the one room in the house that had remained untouched.

Jeannie looked away toward sunlight streaming through the upstairs hall window. “Yeah. It hasn’t had a good cleaning since…”

“We don’t have to take anything out or pack anything away if you’re not ready, Jeannie.”

“I know, but we should really move everything so that we can get behind the furniture and into the corners and all. Then we’ll put it all back, right?”

“Exactly as it is,” Emma assured her.

They worked together, each clearing off the various surfaces in the room—Tessa’s dresser, her desk, her bookcase. Emma stripped the bedding and carried it downstairs to put it in the washer. When she came back, Jeannie had moved all of Tessa’s clothes into the guest room. Together they rolled up the area rug and slid all of the furniture to one side of the room. Emma started sweeping the hardwood floor.

“Jeannie, when I went down to put the laundry in, I couldn’t help noticing that Tessa’s backpack is still there by the back door. Do you want me to go through it and have Sadie return any library books?”

“No, I’ll do it.”

Emma stopped sweeping when she noticed how reluctantly Jeannie moved toward the stairway. “Bring it up here. We’ll do it together,” she said.

By the time Jeannie returned with the backpack, Emma had finished sweeping one side of the room and was brushing the collected dust into a dustpan.

“So heavy,” Jeannie noted, “She was so thin. How did she haul this around?”

Emma leaned the broom against the wall and sat on the side of Tessa’s bed. She patted the spot next to her. “Come sit a minute. You know, this could wait.”

“No. Geoff and I talked last night about how Tessa would want us to move forward. She would absolutely hate the idea of some sort of shrine, and having the backpack there by the door day after day has been a little like that, I suppose.”

Emma resisted the urge to remind her sister that keeping Tessa’s room as it was might also be considered a kind of shrine.
One step at a time
, she thought and watched Jeannie unfasten the clasps on the backpack.

There were numerous compartments—pockets on the outside that held pencils and pens and markers, a hairbrush and a tube of pink lip gloss that made Jeannie smile. “I suggested that she might want to carry this with her. She, of course, rolled her eyes as if that was the dumbest idea she’d ever heard. But here it is.”

In another zippered compartment they found untouched notebooks and a daily calendar, and from inside the main compartment they removed a heavy dictionary, a thesaurus, Tessa’s Bible, and four library books.

“That’s it,” Jeannie said as she ran her finger down the spines of the stack of books.

“Not quite,” Emma replied, lifting the backpack. “There’s something in this compartment here inside the main part.” She pulled the zipper and took out a handmade journal with a fountain pen clipped to its cover.

“You found them!” Jeannie exclaimed happily as she reached for the book and pen. “Oh Em, I’ve turned this room upside down half a dozen times looking for this, and all the time it was right there on the chair by the kitchen door.” She fingered the leather ties on the journal.

“Are you going to read it?”

“I don’t even know if she wrote in it. We only gave it to her that night after the picnic.”

“One way to find out,” Emma said as she scooted back on the bed and leaned against the pillows stacked against the wall.

Jeannie smiled and loosened the thin, knotted ties. She turned the first page where Jeannie had written, “To Tessa, Love, Mom and Dad,” with the date underneath. The next page was filled with Tessa’s unique printing.

“Let’s read it together,” Jeannie said as she pushed herself back on the bed so that she and Emma were side by side.

“Don’t you want to wait for Geoff?”

Jeannie took a minute to consider this and then said, “The way I see it is that it was no mistake that we found this together—you were the one who suggested I go through the backpack. I don’t think that was an accident. I think we’re being led to do this together the way we’ve always done everything together throughout our lives.”

“Maybe we should…” Emma was still doubtful.

“Em, it’s a prayer answered.”

“It is that. Your prayer that you would find this precious link to your daughter and my prayer that you would find it in your heart to forgive mine.”

The two sisters looked at each other for a long moment, and then Jeannie moved the journal halfway onto Emma’s lap as the sisters bent their heads toward each other and read Tessa’s journal.

Epilogue

Tessa

M
om and Dad have always given me a small gift to start the school year, but this is so special. Look how beautifully Grandpa’s pen writes—so much better than any roller ball or gel pen. I love it—and the journal. I think Mom made this for me. She’s been fooling around lately with some art projects, and I thought I saw the paper on the cover of the journal lying in the guest room a few weeks ago.

But it’s getting late and tomorrow is a big day—I’ve tried hard to be cool about it, but the truth is that I’m excited to be finally starting my years at the academy. Sadie has been there a whole year already, and the way she talks about it… well, I can’t wait. But I am making a promise to myself right now that every single night I will write in my new journal—filling it with all the things that happen over the coming year.

Where to begin?

I have no idea, and I so don’t want to look back on this and find it filled with silliness. I know! I’ll take a Bible passage, the one from church that Sunday and write about that and how it fits what’s happening in my life all that week.

Last week the pastor preached about the Sermon on the Mount—a favorite of mine. I just love the way the words flow, like they have comfort and the promise of better days ahead just pouring out of every syllable.

“Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. “I guess that “poor in spirit” means when someone is sad.

“Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.” Pastor says that we can mourn many things—not just the death of a loved one but any kind of loss—the loss of a friend or a favorite book or an opportunity to do good.

“Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth.” Well, not really sure I want this earth, but I am meek, so maybe it’s all part of God’s plan for me.

“Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled.” That’s more me, I think—and our good friend Hester and her husband, John—those two are always hungering after some new way to make things right for others.

“Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy.” Is mercy the same as forgiveness? I’ll have to ask about that. It seems like that might be right—like tonight when I could see that Aunt Emma was really upset with Mom for taking Sadie to get her permit, and yet she forgave her. Was that mercy?

“Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God.” That’s my all-time favorite!

“Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God.” Close second!

“Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness’ sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” I really hope that one day I’ll be brave enough to stand up for others—or for my beliefs—purely because that is the right thing to do.

“Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake. Rejoice, and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward in heaven: for so persecuted they the prophets which were before you.”

I think this is maybe the biggest reason that I’m glad we’re Mennonite. Pretty much everybody in our faith stays away from the blame shame game. We take care of each other like a ginormous family, and even when we get mad at each other, we always find our way back—like sheep coming into the fold in the darkness.

And speaking of darkness, it is so late and I am so tired and tomorrow is going to be so special. It’s starting to rain—good sleeping weather, my dad always says.

D
ISCUSSION
Q
UESTIONS

1. How does Emma’s forgiveness of Jeannie for her impulsive act in the beginning of the book set things in motion?
   
2. How many instances where characters sought forgiveness throughout the story can you name, and in how many instances was forgiveness granted?
   
3. How did Geoff’s past influence his ability to forgive Sadie?
   
4. How did the fact that Jeannie and Geoff were already having some problems in their marriage before the accident influence how they handled their grief?
   
5. What role did blame play in the story?
   
6. What role did trust—or lack of trust—play?
   
7. Given the title of the book, in what ways did Emma forgive Jeannie? And vice versa?
   
8. The story is told from all major characters’ points of view—take them one by one and discuss how each was impacted by Tessa’s death and how each of them changed.
   
9. The Mennonite faith is rooted in the teachings of the New Testament. What lessons did Jesus teach his followers about love, forgiveness, and reconciliation?
   
10. How did the characters in this story apply those teachings (or not)?
    
11. In your own life (or the lives of those close to you) has there ever been something that threatened to tear your family apart? If so, how was that resolved? If not, how do you think you and your family might weather a situation such as the one the characters in this book had to face?
    
12. Think about all the ways characters in this story sought comfort. Talk about those that worked—and those that did not.
    
13. In her journal, Tessa wonders if mercy is the same as forgiveness. What do you think?
    

A
NNA
S
CHMIDT
is the author of more than twenty works of fiction. Among her many honors, Anna is the recipient of the
Romantic Times’
Reviewer’s Choice Award and a finalist for the RITA award for romantic fiction. She enjoys gardening and collecting seashells at her winter home in Florida. To contact Anna, visit her website at
www.booksbyanna.com
.