Authors: Shelley Shepard Gray
Peace (22 page)
And that, indeed, was good enough.
Meet Shelley Shepard Gray
Letter from the Author
Questions for Discussion
A Sneak Peek of
Hopeful
Meet Shelley Shepard Gray
I
GREW UP IN
H
OUSTON
, T
EXAS
, went to Colorado for college, and after living in Arizona, Dallas, and Denver, we moved to southern Ohio about ten years ago.
I've always thought of myself as a very hard worker, but not “great” at anything. I've obtained a bachelor's and master's degree . . . but I never was a gifted student. I took years of ballet and dance, but I never was anywhere near the star of any recital. I love to cook, but I'm certainly not close to being gourmet . . . and, finally, I love to write books, but I've certainly read far better authors.
Maybe you are a little bit like me. I've been married for almost twenty years and have raised two kids. I try to exercise but really should put on my tennis shoes a whole lot more. I'm not a great housekeeper, I hate to drive in the snow, and I don't think I've ever won a Monopoly game. However, I am the best wife and mother I know how to be.
Isn't it wonderful to know that in God's eyes that is okay? That from His point of view, we are all exceptional? I treasure that knowledge and am always so thankful for my faith. His faith in me makes me stand a little straighter, smile a little bit more, and be so very grateful for every gift He's given me.
I started writing about the Amish because their way of life appealed to me. I wanted to write stories about regular, likeable people in extraordinary situationsâand who just happened to be Amish.
Getting the opportunity to write inspirational novels is truly gratifying. With every book, I feel my faith grows stronger. And that makes me feel very special indeed.
www.shelleyshepardgray.com
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Letter from the Author
Dear Reader,
Have you ever spent a Christmas that wasn't all that festive? That was our Christmas in 2012. After my twenty-year-old daughter suffered through a series of increasingly bad bouts of strep throat, it was decided that her tonsils needed to come out during Christmas break.
She had the procedure on December 14, right after she finished finals. We had been warned that the recovery might not be easy for her. In truth, it was very difficult. As the days passed and we all grew exhausted, I stopped thinking about Christmas and only thought about taking care of her.
She was better by Christmas Eve, but only marginally so. My husband, son, and I went to church on Christmas Eve but came home directly afterward since my daughter was still in too much pain for us to leave her alone at the house for long.
On Christmas morning we opened the presents that I had bought months before, wrapped, and put under the tree. Then my son left for his girlfriend's houseâher family was hosting a lovely dinner. Tom and I? We ate soup and sandwiches and continued to hope and pray that our daughter would feel better soon. And then . . .âright around New Year's Day, she did. Just in time to go back to college.
After she left, I put away the decorations and reflected on the holiday. For a moment, I was even tempted to call it the Christmas That Wasn't! And then I remembered that Christmas isn't about parties and being around lots of people. Or about perfect decorations or lovely meals. It really is all about remembering a baby being born in a lowly manger . . . and everyone celebrating the miracle of His birth.
I have a feeling we might always remember the Christmas of 2012 with a bit of fondness and maybe a grimace, too. I know I never want to open a can of Campbell's chicken noodle soup again! But I bet years from now Tom and I will probably smile when we remember that that Christmas reminded us that the holiday is really all about love and faith and hope. Last Christmas we certainly had those in abundance! If those things are present, not much else is needed.
I sincerely hope you enjoyed
Peace
. I loved writing about two couples experiencing a somewhat difficult Christmas Day, and becoming happier and stronger because of it.
Wherever you are, I hope you will have a Merry Christmas! And if it doesn't happen to be quite so “merry,” I hope you will find comfort in celebrating the joy of His birth!
With my thanks to you,
Shelley Shepard Gray
Questions for Discussion
1. At the beginning of the novel, Chris reveals that he came to the Yellow Bird Inn because he had nowhere else to go. Do you think this is correct? Should he have gone somewhere else? Or, do you think he came to the Yellow Bird Inn for a far different reason?
2. At first glance, Beth Byler seems to be an extremely sheltered young Amish lady. But what experiences has she faced that might have prepared her for a relationship with a DEA agent?
3. How did you feel about Jacob's refusal to read his father's letters? Why do you think forgiving his father was so hard for him?
4. The visit to the prison was a life-changing event for everyone involved, certainly for both Jacob and Aaron. How do you imagine their relationship evolving? Have you ever had a rift in your family that you had to struggle to reconcile?
5. Beth's decision to contact Chris's family could have been a huge mistake. Chris's family could have been angry; it might even have brought more danger to their lives if their arrival put Chris is jeopardy. So, was it a mistake . . . or the right decision?
6. The two Christmases portrayed in the novel were definitely not the usual Christmas settings. Have you ever had an unusual Christmas? How did taking you out of your familiar setting allow you to see the gifts of the season in new ways?
7. Obviously, characters finding “peace” was a recurring theme throughout the novel. For each of the main characters, finding peace was not simple or easy, because they each had to overcome many emotional hurdles. Can you recall a time when you, too, had a hurdle to overcome?
8. Discuss how “Though he fall, he shall not be utterly cast down: for the Lord upholdeth him with His hand” (Psalms 37:24) relates to the characters in this book.
A Sneak Peek of
Hopeful
The First Book in Shelley Shepard Gray's New Series, The Return to Sugarcreek
S
HE WAS LATE.
Holding her canvas tote bag in one hand and a box of oatmeal raisin cookies in the other, Miriam Zehr exited her house, darted down her street, turned left on Main Street, and almost ran down old Mr. Sommers.
Holding her canvas tote bag in one hand and a box of oatmeal raisin cookies in the other, Miriam Zehr exited her house, darted down her street, turned left on Main Street, and almost ran down old Mr. Sommers.
With a grunt, he stepped to the side, his garden hose spraying a good bit of water onto her skirts before settling back onto his daffodils.
She skidded to a stop. “I'm sorry, Eli.”
He merely raised one eyebrow. “Late again, Miriam?”
“Jah.”
As discreetly as possible, she shook her blue apron and dress a bit. A few drops flew from the fabric, glinting in the morning sun.
He shook his head in exasperation. “One day you're going to injure someone with your haste.”
She winced. “I know. And I am sorry, Eli.”
Looking at the box in her hand, his voice turned wheedling. “Those cookies?”
“They're oatmeal raisin.” When his eyes brightened, she set down her tote and carefully opened the box. “Care for one?”
After setting the hose down, he reached in and pulled out two plump cookies. “Girl who cooks as
gut
as you should be married by now.”
She'd heard the same refrain almost as often as she'd run late to work. “I've often thought the same thing,” she said as she picked up her tote again. “But for now, I must be on my way.”
“Have a care, now.” He shook one arthritic finger at her. “Not everyone's as spry as me, you know.”
“I'll be careful,” she promised before continuing on her way to work.
Once at the Sugarcreek Inn, she would put on a crisp white apron, then divide her time between baking pies and serving the restaurant guests. The whole time, she'd do her best to smile brightly. Chat with customers and her coworkers. And pretend she didn't yearn for a different life.
But first, she had to do her best to get to work on time.
“Going pretty fast today, Miriam,” Josh Graber called out from the front porch of his family's store. “How late are you?”
“Only five minutes. Hopefully.”
He laughed. “Good luck. Stop by soon, wouldja? Gretta would love to see you.”
“I'll do my best.”
Now that the restaurant was finally in view, she slowed her pace and tried to catch her breath.
