Read More Than Words: Stories of Hope Online
Authors: Diana Palmer,Kasey Michaels,Catherine Mann
“I like the feeling I get when I know I’ve helped someone out of a particularly bad spot, given them hope,” the manager said with a warm smile.
“I do, too. It makes it all worthwhile.”
“And you have three kids.” She shook her head. “I only had
one, and he’s got a wife and three kids of his own. We had a good home and a comfortable income.” She glanced at Mary. “You’re unbelievable.”
Mary laughed. “Maybe I’m just out of my mind,” she suggested.
The other woman laughed, too. “If you are, I wish we had a hundred more just like you. Thanks, Mary. Thanks a million.”
“It’s my pleasure. And I mean that.” Mary smiled.
The next day Billie let Mary off an hour early with no argument at all. “And I’ll see you at the shelter in an hour,” she added. “You know, this has given me a new lease on life. I’ve been so depressed lately. It was time I stopped feeling sorry for myself and started being useful for a change. I’m very grateful to you for helping me.”
“We’re all grateful to you for helping us,” Mary replied. “And I’ll see you at the shelter at five.”
She was still driving the car that Debbie had loaned her, and Tammy had demanded that Mary let her keep John during the day.
“I have all this room and only two kids,” Tammy had argued. “And both of them love having John around to play with. Besides, I heard from a reliable source that Jack left town so there’s no danger that he’s going to track the kids down anytime soon. It’s only for a couple of weeks, until you get some sort of system worked out. So humor me!”
Mary had, with more gratitude than she could express.
She picked up John at Tammy’s and went with him to the shelter where Matt was ready to feed information into the computer.
Two of the shelter workers came right up to take John.
“Let them,” Bev coaxed when Mary started to protest. “We all love kids, you know that. You just help Matt get that schedule on a disk and we’ll take care of John.”
“Thanks,” Mary said, smiling.
She sat down beside Matt at the long table. The computer was an old one, but it seemed to be workable.
“The one I have in my squad car is older than this,” he pointed out as he opened a file in a word processor. “It’s going to be a piece of cake, getting your schedule fed into this thing. Okay. I’m ready. Let’s see that notebook.”
She produced it and opened it to the appropriate page.
He glanced down and his eyes widened. “Good Lord, woman, you call this handwriting? I’m amazed you didn’t fail first grade!”
She burst out laughing. “You listen here, I got awards for my penmanship in high school!”
“From doctors, no doubt,” he drawled.
She gave him a restrained glare. “So I was in a little bit of a hurry when I scribbled these things down,” she confessed finally.
He chuckled. “Actually, I had a partner whose handwriting was even worse than yours. Every time he wrote out a traffic
citation, we got a call from the clerk of court’s office asking us to translate for them.”
“That makes me feel a little better,” she replied with a laugh.
It was incredible how often she did that with him. Her blue eyes swept over his rugged, lined face. He put on a good front, but she could see the inner scars he carried. His whole life was there, in those deep lines.
“Have you ever had to shoot anybody?” she asked involuntarily.
“Not yet,” he replied. “But I’ve threatened to shoot a few people who robbed banks or abused helpless people.”
“Good for you,” she said.
His hands paused over the keyboard and he glanced up at her. “Could you ever date a cop?”
She was suddenly flustered. “Well…well, I never thought about it.”
He pursed his lips. “Wow. That puts me in my place.”
“It does not,” she retorted. “You’re a terrific person. The job wouldn’t bother me, really. I mean, I don’t think it would matter so much if you cared about somebody.” She ground her teeth together. “I can’t put it into words.”
“Oh, I think you did a pretty good job of expressing yourself,” he drawled, and wiggled his eyebrows.
She chuckled. “You’re a character, you are.”
“Takes one to know one. I think you’d better read me that
list along with addresses and phone numbers. It will save hours of time trying to read your handwriting.”
“Hold your breath until you ever get a letter from me,” she teased.
“I like cards. Funny cards. My birthday is next month,” he hinted. “You could send me one, and I’d put it on my mantel beside the pictures of my mother and father.”
“I’ll consider it seriously,” she promised.
“You do that.”
They joked back and forth as they went through the list and put all the necessary information into the computer. It wasn’t as time-consuming as Mary had thought it would be. She had to admit, she enjoyed Matt’s company. He was a complex person. She really wanted to get to know him. But it was much too soon for anything serious.
By the time Sunday arrived, Mary was so tired that she almost thought of backing out of Matt’s generous offer to take them all to the movies.
She had some uncomfortable palpitations, and she felt sick in her stomach. It was frightening. She knew it probably had something to do with the stress, but for the moment, she had no idea how to get out from under it.
More importantly, she didn’t want to frighten the children. Bob and Ann were already giving her curious looks. They began
to notice that her mother was pale and listless when she wasn’t working.
“Don’t even think about trying to back out,” Matt told Mary when he was standing in the motel room, comfortable in jeans and a long-sleeved blue checked shirt with a leather jacket. “You’re going to enjoy today. I promise. Won’t she, kids?” he asked the others.
“You bet!” they chorused.
“A movie and a few hours of being away from work, from any work at all, will rejuvenate you,” Matt promised as he smiled down at her. “We’re going to have a ball!”
Mary wasn’t so sure, but she got her old coat on, put the kids in theirs, and all of them went out the door to pile into Matt’s sedan.
T
he theater was crowded, even at the matinee, but most of the audience was made up of children. Bob met one of his friends, and went to sit with him. Ann sat on one side of Matt, and the baby, John, curled into Mary’s shoulder and promptly went to sleep.
“He really is a good baby,” Matt whispered, watching the little boy with a tender smile.
“He always has been,” she whispered back.
Matt glanced toward the other kids, who were engrossed in the movie. “Were the others like this?”
She shook her head. “Bob was a live wire, always in trouble for being mischievous. Ann refuses to show her work in math,
which gets her into lots of trouble with teachers. She’s very intelligent.”
“I noticed,” Matt agreed.
People in the seats ahead were glaring back at them. They exchanged wry glances and paid attention to the movie.
“That was just great!” Bob enthused when the movie was over and they were back in the car, heading for a fast-food restaurant that served chili dogs—the children’s favorite food. “Thanks a lot, Mr. Clark.”
“Matt,” the older man corrected lazily. “I’m glad you enjoyed it, Bob. So did I. I think the last movie I went to see was the second of the new Star Wars films.”
“That was ages ago,” Ann exclaimed.
Matt shrugged, smiling. “My social life is mostly work.”
“Join the club,” Mary had to agree.
“We need to do this more often,” Matt said. “At least a movie a month. If you guys would like to do that,” he added.
There was a loud chorus of assents and excited smiles all around.
“You’re terrific, Matt,” Ann said. “Thanks.”
“My pleasure,” he replied, with a smile in Mary’s direction. “Now, for chili dogs!” he added as he pulled into the fast-food restaurant.
Mary and Matt had shared the cost of the outing, because she insisted. It had made a hole in her meager savings, but as
she looked at the radiant faces of her children, she couldn’t regret doing it. Sometimes in the struggle just to survive, she forgot that the children needed more than school and work in order to thrive. They needed a little breathing space from the problems of everyday life. In fact, so did she.
“That was really great, Matt,” Mary told him as he deposited her and the children at the motel. “I enjoyed it. So did they,” she added, nodding toward the children filing into the room with Ann carrying little John carefully in her arms.
He smiled. “That was obvious. I’m glad, because I had a good time, too. I haven’t been out on a date since my wife left me.”
She gave him a wry glance. “Some date,” she mused. “Me and three kids.”
He chuckled. “I was an only child. It was sort of a dream of mine to have a big family.” He shrugged. “My wife hated kids. She didn’t like my job, either. She wanted to party all the time, and I came home dead tired at night. We were doomed to failure, I guess. Neither of us was any good at looking ahead. We married on an impulse. It was a really bad impulse.”
She sighed. “I had those same ideals myself. I did, at least, get the big family,” she said with a smile. “But I never expected that I’d have to raise it all by myself. It’s a big responsibility.”
He touched her hair gently, just a gesture without any demands or insistence. “Listen, if you ever need somebody to look after your brood in an emergency, I’ve got a big-screen television and lots of G-rated movies. They’d be company for me.”
Her face became radiant. “Wouldn’t you faint if I said yes?”
“Try me.”
She hesitated. “I might do that one day, if you mean it.”
His dark eyes swept over her face. “You’ve got guts. You never complain, no matter how hard your life is. You love those kids and it sticks out like a neon light. You’ve got a good sense of humor and you don’t back away from trouble. I think you’re an exceptional woman. Having got that out of the way,” he continued when she tried to speak, “I’ll add that I think your sons and daughter are the nicest children I’ve ever met, and some of the most unselfish. It wouldn’t be any chore to look after them, as long as I’m not on duty. I don’t think you’d like having me take them on a high-speed chase or to make a drug bust.”
She laughed. “No, really I wouldn’t. But if I get in a tight spot, I’ll remember you. I will.”
“Good. I’ll see you at the shelter tomorrow afternoon.”
“Thanks again, Matt.”
“I’m lonely,” he said simply. “It was fun.”
She watched him walk away. Her heart felt warm and safe. She sighed like a girl. Perhaps, someday, she thought to herself.
The routine was more fulfilling than Mary had ever dreamed it might be. She really enjoyed her trips to the restaurants and then to the shelters and homeless camps. It was the first time
in her life that she’d ever felt she was making a difference. It was more than just feeding the hungry. She felt a sense of self-worth, of responsibility and pride, that she hadn’t ever known.
To her surprise, her work was sparking comment in the community, to the extent that the shelter Bev ran got a call from a daily newspaper reporter. She wanted to do a feature article on Mary.
At first, Mary thought about refusing. She didn’t want people to think she was doing the work just for publicity. But Bev assured her that this wasn’t going to be the case. The reporter was a vivacious young lady who sat down with Mary for half an hour and wrote a story that sounded as if she’d known Mary her whole life. Best of all, people called the shelter and volunteered their time, and money, to help the needy.
Mary’s kids were also learning a lot about the world through helping their mother with the project. Their own generosity in helping with their mother’s routine without complaint said a lot for their unselfish natures.
“You know,” Bob commented one evening when they’d just dropped off several containers of food at the women’s mission, “I didn’t understand how people could lose their homes and end up in places like this. I mean, not until we started taking them food.” He frowned. “There are a lot of desperate people in the world, aren’t there, Mom?” he added. “I guess what I
mean is, when we’re doing this stuff for other people, it kind of helps me forget how scared and uncertain I feel myself.”
Mary reached over and hugged him. “That’s a good feeling, too, isn’t it?”
“It is,” Ann joined in.
But despite the pleasure it gave Mary to pursue her project, she was feeling the pressure of trying to hold down several physically demanding jobs and look after the children’s needs, as well as drive around most of the night picking up and delivering food. She had several volunteers, and she was grateful for every one of them. But her list was growing longer and the demands were increasing.
“You really are going to have to have help,” Bev told her firmly. “You need someone to help you coordinate all this.”
“Matt made a computer program,” Mary began.
“You need an organization to sponsor what you’re doing, Mary,” came the quiet reply. “You’re going to fold up if you keep trying to do it all by yourself.”
“But I don’t know any organizations,” she said heavily.
“I do,” Bev replied. “The head of the local food bank has been in touch with me. That article they did about you in the morning paper has gained some interest from some important people around the city. I’ve been asked to introduce you to the
food bank manager tomorrow. Can you get off an hour early and meet me here?”
Mary was dumbfounded. “He wants to meet…me?”
Bev smiled. “You’re an inspiration to all of us, a woman in your circumstances who’s willing to give time and money she doesn’t have to help people less fortunate than she is.”
She shook her head. “Anybody else would have done the same thing.”
“Not in a million years,” Bev said quietly. “Will you come?”
Mary sighed. “Okay. I’ll be here at four, is that all right?”
Bev grinned. “Just right!”
The manager of the City Food Bank, Tom Harvey, was tall and elegant, a soft-spoken gentleman with a warm smile and kind dark eyes.
“I’m very pleased to meet you, Mrs. Crandall,” he said when he shook Mary’s hand. “I must say, you’ve come as a surprise to all of us. I didn’t really believe the story in the paper until I talked to Bev. So many times, reporters exaggerate the truth. But in your case, I think the story was actually an understatement. I’m amazed at what you’ve done on your own initiative.”
“It’s tiring, but it’s the most rewarding thing I’ve done in my life,” Mary told him. “I enjoy every minute of it.”
“So I’ve been told.” He frowned. “But your list of participat
ing restaurants is growing bigger by the day, and even with your volunteers, you’re not going to be able to keep up this pace.”
“I’m beginning to realize that,” Mary had to admit. She looked up at him curiously. “Do you have any suggestions?”
“Yes, I do. I’d like to consider adding your project under our program and putting you in charge of it. You’d work part-time, but it would be a paid job.”
Mary felt the blood drain out of her face. It seemed almost too good to be true. “You’re joking.”
He shook his head. “I assure you, I’m not. Your program is unique, and it’s doing a lot of good. I want to see it continue. I want to see you continue,” he emphasized with a smile. “With three children to support and your full-time cleaning job, and this, I feel that you must be stretched pretty thin.”
“I’m almost transparent,” she confessed with a smile. “But that wouldn’t stop me from doing it.”
He nodded. “I thought you were that sort of person. There’s a pilot program in California which does much the same manner of food rescue that you’re doing. I’d really like to fly you out there and take a look at it, and see what you think. If you like it, we can expand your project and put it in place here.”
Mary was thinking. Her mind was whirling. She could do this with professional help on the organizational level. She could do it part-time as a salaried employee and cut her cleaning jobs in half. She’d be able to spend more time with
the children. They might be able to afford to rent a house, even buy a car. It was overwhelming.
“You haven’t answered,” Tom Harvey said gently.
She smiled from ear to ear. “I’m speechless,” she admitted. “I’d like very much to see the California program and make my decision afterward.”
“Great!” he exclaimed. “Then we’ll get the ball rolling!”
Mary took Matt up on his offer to keep the children over a weekend, while she flew to San Diego. Although money wasn’t an issue since the City Food Bank covered all her travel expenditures, she was nervous about the trip. However, Matt assured her that she was going to do just fine. The kids kissed her goodbye and told her not to worry. Matt gave her a speaking look, because he knew she’d worry anyway. He’d given her both his home and cell phone numbers, to make sure she could reach him whenever she wanted to check on the children. It made her feel better.
When she got to San Diego, she checked into the nice motel they’d put her up in and took a cab to the food bank office. There, she met a live wire of a woman named Lorinda who ran the food rescue program for the food bank there. It was similar to Mary’s, except that it was much more efficient. There was a special unit of volunteers who made the rounds of the restaurants to pick up food, and a separate unit that had panel trucks
with which to make the deliveries. It worked like clockwork, and served many shelters.
“We’re adding to our suppliers all the time,” Lorinda said with a contagious smile. “It’s time-consuming and we spend a lot for gas, but the program is very successful. It’s lucky that we have plenty of volunteers. I’m amazed at what you’re able to do with so few people.”
“Yes,” Mary agreed. “Imagine what I could do with a setup like yours!”
The other woman just smiled. “We have the advantage of a comfortable budget and people with great organizational skills.”
“I’ve been offered both,” Mary said thoughtfully. “And I believe I’m going to accept them.”
Two weeks later, Mary was officially on the staff of the food bank as a part-time employee in charge of food rescue.
She sat at a desk in the shelter and used the phone excessively in the first week on the job, setting up even more restaurants to be clients of the food bank. She was also trying to keep the cleaning jobs she’d had for so many years. The stress of it all suddenly caught up with her early one morning after she’d dropped the kids off at school and John at a nearby day-care center with a woman she trusted.
She was walking into the food bank office when she felt
something like a blow to her chest. She saw the floor coming up to meet her. Everything went black.
She came to in a hospital bed with Matt sitting beside her in full uniform, except for his hat, which was on the floor beside him. He looked worn and worried.
Her eyes opened slowly and she blinked. “What happened?” she asked weakly. She looked around. “Where am I?”
His eyebrows lifted above wide dark eyes. “Apparently you decided to take a sudden nap on the floor of your office.”
She smiled weakly. “Bad decision.”
“Very bad.” He reached over and stroked her cheek. “How do you feel?”
“Odd. Floaty. Disconnected.”
“That would be the sedative kicking in,” he assessed.
“Have I had a heart attack? Has a doctor been in?”
“A few minutes ago,” he said. “But it wasn’t a heart attack. The palpitations were induced by stress and you collapsed from exhaustion. I told him what you’d been doing, and he asked if you had a death wish.”
She laughed softly. “I guess I need a vacation.”
“You’re having one,” he pointed out. “All meals included.”
“This is much too expensive a vacation,” she argued. “I have minimal insurance coverage and it’s brand-new.”
“It’s quite enough, as you’ll find out,” he replied. “I checked.”
“The children…!”
“I picked them up from school, and John from day care and brought them here with me. They’re with your friend, Tammy. I phoned her and she came straight over to pick them up. I would have been glad to keep them,” he added at once, “but I’m on duty and I can’t get anybody to cover for me. I took my lunch hour early to come and see about you.”