Sophie's Heart
Scripture verses are taken from the New American Standard Bible
®
, © 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission. (
www.lockman.org
)
Cover by Koechel Peterson & Associates, Inc., Minneapolis, Minnesota
SOPHIE’S HEART
Copyright © 1995 by Lori Wick
Published by Harvest House Publishers
Eugene, Oregon 97402
www.harvesthousepublishers.com
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Wick, Lori.
Sophie’s heart/Lori Wick.
p.cm.
ISBN 0-7369-1291-6
I.Title.
| PS3573.I237S64 1995 | |
| 813'.54—dc20 | 95-13823 |
| CIP |
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Printed in the United States of America
04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 / BC-KB / 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Sophie’s
HEART
Contents
October 8, 1988
Prague, Czechoslovakia
T
he dark-haired woman walked from the tall stone building, her coat pulled close against an early frost. It felt good to be headed home, and even better to know that tomorrow was Sunday, a day off.
The woman was at the door of her apartment in just ten minutes. It was one of the better housing units in the city, provided because of her high position as a translator with the Federal Assembly. She let herself in quietly, but her grandmother, the only other occupant of the apartment, heard the door. She called from the small corner of the kitchen they had christened “the sitting room.”
“You’re a little late, but I’ve just made tea. Come and share with me, Sophie.”
Doing as she was bade, the younger woman divested herself of her outer garments and made her way toward Kasmira Kopecky—the only parent she’d known for the past 20 years. Kasmira was pouring from a chipped teapot into equally chipped cups. As she concentrated, her eyes sparkled with a youth that belied her age.
“You are looking very pleased with yourself this evening,” Sophie commented as she took the offered cup.
“It has come, Sophie.” The old voice was breathless with excitement. “In the mail today. Your name has come up on the list.”
The cup stopped halfway to Sophie’s mouth, and she stared in shock at her grandmother. This was not supposed to happen for years.
“I don’t believe it,” she finally managed.
Her grandmother drew forth a piece of paper and presented it with a triumphant flourish.
“It is right here. Your name, Sophia Velikonja, printed in neat black letters.”
“But what of you?”
“Sophie,” her grandmother’s voice suddenly became very gentle, “I was never on the list.”
“I know that, but you’re not actually suggesting I leave you?”
“Of course I am.” Her voice was still tender. “I outlived the cancer, but I’m an old woman, and my time here is still very short.”
“I don’t care how short it is. I don’t want to miss any of it.”
They fell silent then, each busy with her own thoughts. Years ago they had discussed their mutual dream of seeing America—not only see it, but live there for the rest of their years. When the dreaming and praying were over, they decided to put their names on the request list to leave Czechoslovakia. However, before the actual act could occur, Sophie’s grandmother had learned she had cancer. It was a very hard time, but assuming she would be gone long before the time Sophie’s turn would come, the older woman had insisted that Sophie submit her name. However, God had other plans.
“You must go, Sophie.” The older woman now broke the silence. “It has been my dream for you for so very long.”
Her grandmother’s tone—the one with which her granddaughter could never argue—caused Sophie’s eyes to close briefly in agony. When they opened, her eyes caught sight of her wonderful old beaten-down piano with its chipped keys and peeling woodwork. Would they ever sing around it again? She finally looked back at her grandmother.
“It’s so far,” she whispered. “I may never see you again.”
“Our hearts will always be joined in Christ. You must never forget this.”
The younger woman could only nod, her beautiful dark eyes never leaving her grandmother’s. With love filling those eyes, her grandmother spoke again.
“Follow after God’s heart, my dear child, for this is what He has planned for you.”
With that, Sophie knew it would really happen. She would be leaving Czechoslovakia and her grandmother.
A moment later they were embracing, tears pouring down their faces as sobs racked their bodies, each feeling as if giant hands had already invaded their world to tear them apart forever.
October 12, 1988
Middleton, Wisconsin
“I’ve got to find that dry cleaner’s ticket. It takes so long without it.”
There was no one in the car with Vanessa Riley, but that didn’t hinder her soliloquy in the slightest. Her husband had long teased her concerning her habit of talking to herself, and she smiled at the thought of telling him she was at it again.
“Now what’s this?” she said distractedly, her eyes momentarily leaving the road. “Oh, mercy, I wondered where that check was. No wonder I bounced that check to the plumber. Alec is going to wring my neck.
“Oh boy, oh boy, pay attention, Van,” she said as she swerved a little. “You didn’t even see that car.”
Vanessa was in and out of the cleaner’s in record time, but she still had two other stops to make. She pulled into traffic, fretting all the while.
“Oh, not rain—we’re headed to the lake. Honestly,” she said with growing frustration, “I haven’t even started supper, and the kids will need help with their homework.”
Vanessa’s hand was in her purse once again, this time for her shopping list. She hated making them and felt quite proud that she’d bothered to fill one out at all. When she suddenly realized that she had left it on the kitchen table, her irritation knew no bounds.
It was probably this frustration and no other reason that she took the turn too fast. Houses lined one side of the street, but there were only fences and many trees on the other. Things had been very dry, and this fresh fall of rain was making the pavement treacherous. Vanessa prided herself on the fact that she’d never had an accident, so it came as quite a surprise to find her vehicle now spinning out of control.
For the first time in her life, she didn’t know which pedal to push. Her foot groped around the floorboard even as her mind conjured up a brief image of her husband and three children. Vanessa Riley’s last thought was that she simply had to get home to all of them; she hadn’t even started supper.
Two hours later, Alec Riley let himself in the back door of the house, which put him directly in the kitchen. He was tired, but not overly so, and was looking forward to leaving for the lake the next afternoon. He stopped dead in his tracks when he found all three of his children in the kitchen working on supper. This was not the norm. He wondered briefly if they might all be growing up.
