Down to Earth Hope Has A Place by Andrea Lena DiMaggio   One look at love, and you may see It weaves a web over mystery All raveled threads can rend apart For hope has a place in the lover's heart Hope has a place in a lover's heart

This story is a continuation of A Question of Balance. Thus far: Three women, centuries old and practitioners of Draihoidel, the old arts, had come along side a girl in desperate need of understanding and encouragement. Each had taken the form of mortals to influence three souls close to the girl. The fourth member of the group, the girl’s brother had been a practitioner of the old arts for only a few days. The women have returned to help the family once again, along with others that need the healing that only love can provide...

“Please be kind to yourself. I don’t know why I’m saying this other than that it’s very selfish and the only reason I can come up with.” She looked at him and his face was red and he had begun to cry.

“I think it’s going to be okay!”

At the Lambert home that evening

“Honey…you got a letter from the school board…I’m sorry, but I opened it up.” Trudy’s eyes began to tear up. Diane had just returned from her support group. She sat down on the couch and hugged her wife.

“I know…I got one at school too; I guess they wanted to make sure I knew how they felt.” She tried to laugh, but her heart wasn’t in the mood.

“This is so unfair…” She put the letter down on the couch and glared at it. “A review of your performance has been submitted to the board?” What does that mean?

“It means they’re trying to back-door a dismissal for cause; this way they don’t even have to deal with my gender issue. They can let me go just because they feel I haven’t been doing my job.”

“But you have been doing your job…I can talk to any family of any kid you’ve worked with in the past four years and find someone who will testify to that.” She sighed and her tears came stronger as she realized the irony of what she just said.

“Damn it, Diane…this is like a trial…they can’t do this!” She protested.

“According to the board, they can. And since it’s a personnel matter, they can keep the hearing private; no ‘witnesses’!” Diane fought hard but her own tears began to flow.

“This hurts more than angers me….what have I been doing all these years? Have I wasted my life? Am I wrong for what I’m doing now? It calls my whole being into question.”

“Diane Lambert…don’t you dare say that. You are a gift to me and to the kids…you were made for this…helping kids discover themselves. And if you discovered yourself along the way…we’re all the better for it. I know I am.! She gave her a tearful kiss, but she was still angry.

“It’s Phyllis Jenkins, isn’t it? She submitted the report to the board. Can she do that?”

“I don’t know if she can…but she probably did.”

“Why does she hate you so much?”

“I don’t think she hates me, honey…she seems to feel like it’s her duty to stand in my way…like some guardian at the gate, you know…but there’s more. When she got angry with me the other day there was something in her eyes…I don’t know…almost a sadness…”

“I don’t care…this isn’t fair. We’ll show them…”

“You can’t come. I can bring my lawyer, but no one else is permitted in the meeting besides the board….School policy.” Diane began to tremble at the words….

“I…I know you’ll be there in spirit, honey…I’ll feel your presence…” She tried as hard as she could to be encouraging, but it was more than Trudy could handle and she broke down into heaving sobs against Diane’s chest. Diane gave into the sad moment and joined her wife as they cried together.

Under the heavens, we journey far
On roads of life, we're the wanderers
So let love rise, so let love depart
Let hope have a place in the lover's heart
Hope has a place in a lover's heart

The next day…late Saturday morning…the McCarthy home…

“I’m so scared, Mikey.” Breena sat on the couch next to her nephew. Mike was taking a ‘break’ from his expression of solidarity and was wearing jeans and a navy tee sans the recent custom of wearing a brassiere. He felt oddly out of place.

“It’s going to be okay…nothing ventured?”

“It’s not your heart they’ll be picking off the floor if he hates me, boy.” She snapped, returning briefly to her put-out persona, but she quickly apologized.

“Oh, Mikey…I’m so sorry…you do care and I think it will hurt you and Patty if this doesn’t work almost as much as me.” She looked over to Patty in the kitchen. She was sitting at the table with her girlfriend Chelsea eating an early lunch.

“I think this is so sweet, Ms. McCarthy,” Chelsea said as she walked into the living room. Patty quickly joined her as they sat together squeezed into the large easy chair catty-corner to the couch.

“Just where is your mother now that this is all happenin’?” Breena said.

“She mentioned something about a thinking meeting, whatever that is.” Patty said.

“I know she’s planning on ‘being here,’ when Mr. Giambrone comes…she won’t be making an appearance though, since everyone at school knows she’s dead.” She giggled as the last words came out of her mouth, knowing that the being her mother had become after death was both magical and immortal.

“I’m so glad you can know her and speak to her. I don’t think I could ever handle it if my Mom died…I miss my Dad so much.” Patty squeezed her hand before continuing.

“Aunt Breena…this is a good thing you’re doing. Mr. Giambrone is one of the nicest teachers in the school. I can’t imagine him wanting to see you unless he’s serious. That he asked Mike if he could see you? It’s like you told us about back home…the respect.”

“But will he be respectin’ me when he finds out who I truly am?”

“That you’re nicer and kinder than what you let out to be, Ms. McCarthy? That you raised two great kids?” Chelsea beamed as she looked at Patty.

“I’m hoping and praying for you, Aunt Breena. I haven’t prayed since fourth grade, but seeing Mom and seeing all the great things that have happened has sorta made me rethink some things, you know. I want you to know that Patty and I and Mom, of course are believing for you.” He leaned close and kissed her affectionately on the cheek.

“That we are, dear sister!” Janey McCarthy, now Siobhan the Merciful of the Women of Draehoidel, walked into the living room. Mike looked up, expecting her to be in some character or even more so, perhaps a long flowing green velvet dress with a circlet in her hair. She was, of course, wearing none of the accoutrements of her newly adopted craft, preferring instead jeans and a forest green sweatshirt with ‘Villanova’ emblazoned on the front. She was eating an apple and leaning against the kitchen doorway.

“I need your help, Janey,” Breena looked up and tears began to well up in her eyes. Janey nodded, and said calmly,

“Aye, sis…I suppose you do. And you’ll get it, but not in any way you’re expecting. We can’t do anything but nudge folks…prod them a bit to take action where it’s needed or to be merciful…” She paused, remembering how her own conversion helped her to see the need for mercy and kindness.

“So what can you help me with?” Breena looked almost like a panicky girl going to the prom, which fit well with Janey’s next comment,

“I, dear Breena, am going to help you find a dress! Let's just believe that your first date will be one of many, dear one. Let hope have a place in your heart,aye?”

Phyllis Jenkins home…later that day…

A knock came at the door. Phyllis shook her head, wondering who would be knocking on her door on a Saturday, or any day for that matter. She grabbed the shawl off the couch and threw it over her shoulders and walked to the door. Opening it, she got a surprise…

“I’m sorry for coming over unannounced, but I just had to talk to you.” Dave Ackerman stood on her landing, looking very anxious

“Dave…Mr. Ackerman…we have nothing to talk about.”

“I’m sorry, but we do….MS. Jenkins.” He backed away from her slightly, trying to be less imposing. He failed

“Dave…Mr. Ackerman! Please leave. I can’t talk to you…now or in the future unless it’s on a strictly professional basis.” She went to close the door. He didn’t want to appear threatening so he smiled and said ‘FINE!’ Phyllis was so surprised she stopped and stared as he continued.

“I’ll just sit out here on your front porch. I’ve got all the time in the world, and believe it or not, I want to be your friend.” Phyllis tilted her head and stared again at his welcoming smile.

“Yes, Ms. Jenkins…I do want to be your friend. I’m sorry for coming on so strong, but I’m not used to talking with….” He hesitated.

“Women?”

“Administrators.” He laughed but continued with a more serious look on his face.

“I mean i

t…people in authority really scare me…I guess I get that from how my dad was.” He hadn’t meant to go there, but their conversation came back to him in too vivid detail as he remembered just how much he and Phyllis had in common. And he shook his head as tears began to fall on the concrete landing, leaving little puddles. Phyllis stared at him again, and something just touched her like nothing she’d ever felt before.

“Mr. Ackerman…I’m sorry. Please. Come inside…we can…we can talk. I think I can do that.” She grabbed his arm softly; the first time she had ever reached out to another human being since her brother had taken his life. At thirty-two, apart from a final few hugs from her mother before her passing and the occasional touch of the arm in conversation with her hairdresser, she hadn’t had any significant physical contact for nearly seventeen years.

“I’ll make some coffee, okay?” She ushered him into her home and closed the door. And sitting on the wrought iron railing on the landing, Orla smiled and breathed out a deep sigh of relief.

Whispering world, a sigh of sighs
The ebb and the flow of the ocean tides
One breath, one word, may end or may start
A hope in a place of the lover's heart
Hope has a place in a lover's heart

Next: Love in Unexpected Places!

Hope Has a Place
Words and Music by
Enya (Eithne Patricia Ná­ Bhraoná¡in)Brennan
performed by Enya
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fFz3jybXyxM