From Dylan's Story...

“Mommmmmmmm….” The girl in the chair seemed to transform, even though she appeared no different than only a few moments before.

“If you don’t stop blushing I won’t be able to tell if this is your color.” Margaret laughed and her son started to cry once again.

Several years later…Portland, Maine…

Dara sat in the chair; the very same chair where her journey began years before. Still helping like a sister should, Eileen was combing Dara’s hair. Her mother Margaret stood back as if to admire a freshly painted portrait. She tapped the comb in her own hand in thought.

“I think she looks just fine.” Eileen said but squinted again; looking for any missed but vital detail. It was going to be a joyous time, wasn’t it? Dara frowned.

“I don’t…I feel so selfish.” She put her head down, thinking of the coming days and the biggest day of her life apart from that fateful day in Colorado. It was there that she knew that she knew. No more kid’s crush; no more playing around. And just the thought of being ‘made up’ made her feel oddly unworthy.

“I know, honey, but really? Pastor Cam said that the church is happy to help, and we certainly want to acknowledge all that God has done.” Margaret winced at her own words; the statement itself would appear almost foolish but for the whole idea and who had thought of it first.

“I know it’s hard to think of it with everything else on your mind and heart.” Eileen tried to interject further but Dara held her hand up in a quiet but firm gesture. She shook her head as if to say NO! Margaret put her hand on her daughter’s shoulder and leaned closed.

“I know it’s the right thing…the good thing, honey. Maybe the best thing ever, even if it seems so…” Her voice trailed off at the thought of the word she had meant to avoid, but could not. She said it with a softness that seemed almost like a sweet whisper on a very harsh day.

“Sad….” She put her hand to her mouth. Could it be that faith had some say in the day to come? Would anyone….would God listen to their prayers? The family certainly had seen things work out well in so many ways, but those things were so transient and thin. What they all….each of their friends and all of their family and extended kin were praying for a miracle. And one who had the absolute confidence it would indeed work out. Funny how faith works? From the outside in, it often appears to be a waste of time, ironically enough when one wishes for more time. But from the inside out, it feels more like the hug of a parent after a bad day; that embrace which says that no matter what happens, it will all work out right in the end; another irony to face and either accept or push back hard.

“It’s going to be just fine!” Eileen said. An odd word; ‘fine’ when used in an answer about your feelings can often mean the exact opposite. But ‘just fine’ means exactly what it says; okay without concern or argument. From Dara's point of view, 'just fine' remained to be seen, but really, it was already a done deal!

Christmas Eve…Hope Gateway Church, Portland…

Miracles occur in all shapes and sizes and colors; sort of like a rainbow of blessings. This night was one of those strange ones that while hoped for was entirely unanticipated. The church was almost full; friend and family looking forward to the night almost like the shepherds looked in anticipation centuries before. A tall, friendly looking man stepped up on the low platform and smiled. Pastor Cam McIntyre scanned the congregation and nodded at folks who caught his eye; it was going to be a special night.

“I’m so happy you all are here. Tonight is a celebration; a party of sorts where we and God get together and have a pretty good time.” He nodded and the young woman to his side began to play her mandolin; a very nice rendition of Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring. A younger woman stepped close and began to play a counter melody on her flute. She smiled with her eyes and you could see she was excited as the bride came down the aisle. Her sister, of course.

The friends and family were almost overflowing with joy; something that while always present had seemed to be quiet and translucent in recent months. The bride, such as she was, reached the base of the stage, accompanied by her mother. Margaret beamed as Dara took her place to the pastor’s right. She wore a simple cream gauze dress; almost a throwback to her mother’s own wedding decades before.

And then the people grew quiet as the other bride took her place at the back of the church for her own walk down the aisle. Her mother fought off proud tears as the woman struggled a bit to stand up from her wheelchair. Her hair was severely short; a remnant of an intervention that saved her life, it had grown very little since the most recent procedure had ended. Only days of being declared cancer-free, Jessie Monroe walked down the aisle to be united in wedlock with her best friend and the love of her life.

“I….I love you,’ Dara mouthed silently, fighting to keep it together. Jessie reached the stage and put her hand on Dara’s to steady herself. While still frail, the light had returned to her eyes and the playfulness behind the light shone clearly. She was wearing a simple beige gown of satin; floor-length and strapless. She wore a carved necklace; the near-twin of the one around Dara’s neck. But the biggest contrast was exactly how it should be. Dara had whispered; almost embarrassed to be blessed by Jessie’s love. Jessie wasn’t embarrassed at all.

“I LOVE YOU, TOO!” She shouted to the joy and laughter of the people in church that night. She lifted the skirt of her gown slightly to reveal a pair of classic Red Converse All-Stars with red and green and white striped socks.

“And Merry Christmas,” she said loudly; only a bit softer than her previous declaration. Fun and whimsy made a very needful appearance, and everyone smiled except for Dara. She put her hand to her mouth and began to sob; not a sad or angry cry, but a sob that says I don’t belong and I certainly don’t deserve you! Jessie had seen enough of that over the course of several years; especially during the past year and a half of their battle…THEIR battle. Cam stepped closer to them both.

“Okay!” Jessie held her hand up to the pastor as if to say, “I’ve got this, okay?”

“Change of plans, Ladies and Gentlemen!” She turned to the congregation and smiled the same broad smile everyone had come to love.

“Vows first!” She turned to Dara and smiled a half-smile while holding her hands out in some urgency; that ‘go ahead, what are you waiting for’ motion we sometimes make. Dara shook a bit and Jessie made the same gesture again. She even turned to the congregation in an aside that would have made Shakespeare proud.

“Can you believe this?” Instead of pulling back in embarrassment like she was used to doing, Dara looked at Jessie with grateful relief. The ice had been broken, so to speak, and Dara spoke.

“I love you. You are my life. You knew me way back when there wasn’t even a me, in a way. And you still love me now. Nothing can feel better to me than knowing that you care. And nothing can be better for me than to love you right back. I love you.” She shook only just a little and blinked back tears. Jessie smiled and stepped closer; an ad lib came that surprised really no one as she put the paper with her vows on the tall stool by the podium.

She pulled Dara closer and kissed her; not the mushy-faced kiss some folks do to show they care. Not the barely pecked kiss to show they don’t need to show they care. The kiss was soft and tender; almost like being kissed for the first time for both. She stopped and picked up the paper and read the words.

“I….Love….YOU! First, last and always, okay? Don’t feel sad or scared or unworthy. You bless me! You complete me! I…Love YOU! “

She smiled at Cam who shrugged his shoulders for the ‘if anyone objects’ thing but of course no one objected. He smiled once again and folded his sermon notes and placed them in his bible before saying.

“Wife and wife, folks, Pretty good, huh?” Everyone cheered. And for perhaps the first time in her life, Dara didn’t just believe in joy or trust in joy, or even try to demonstrate joy. For the first time in her life, she felt joy. And Jessie just smiled her knowing smile; a smile that would suit all of the challenges she and Dara would face. But they did live joyfully ever after.

Next: Julia’s Song

Christmas Time Is Here
Words and Music by
Lee Mendelson and
Vince Guaraldi
As performed by
Miss Diana Krall
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hENMvHM9QR4