---

---

---

---

These are days you'll remember
never before and never since, I promise
will the whole world be warm as this
and as you feel it, you'll know it's true
that you are blessed and lucky
it's true, that you are touched by something
that will grow and bloom in you

---

---

Candace wiped the tear from her face and looked away. Something was going on inside her; something she thought would never happen. The memory of the kiss brought back more than the past. It brought back that feeling she had lost since then…that she wasn’t a pretender.

She wasn’t deluded or foolish, and she could look in the mirror once again and accept that she could be loved.

---

---

Years later, Baltimore, Maryland…

"Hello, I'm here about the apartment...we talked yesterday on the phone." The petite girl stood at the doorway looking as friendly as anyone Candace had ever met.

"Oh yes, you must be Kyra," Candace said as she opened the door wider to greet the girl, who looked scanned the room before saying,

"Unless someone else has a claim, I'd like to be considered. This is a nice place, and I can see it already suits my needs. Now to whether I suit yours?" She laughed softly.

"You said you're in your senior year of premed...." Candace hesitated, allowing Kyra an in.

"I know; I barely look like I should be in high school. I just turned nineteen last week. I'm what they like to call....gifted." She laughed softly again, evoking a familarity that Candace couldn't place.

"You said your soon-to-be-former roomate is moving this weekend? I can be ready to move in Sunday afternoon, if that meets with your and your other roommate's approval.

"Sure, we already checked your references, and I don't see why not. I know Debbie met you over at the student union the other day and she's fine, so if you want to look around before you sign the lease?" There was something about Kyra that reminded her of someone she had met years before, but again, her memory failed her. Kyra solved that problem almost immediately.

"Candace...you don't remember me, but I remember you. I was about nine and you were about ages with my brother...maybe a year older." That smile again. She'd seen it before, and not just on Kyra. She closed her eyes, trying to pull something from her memory to place where she'd met the girl.

"You were at the home where my dad....where Carla was cared for. Your mom, if I recall was a nurse, and you helped her take care of Carla." Her eyes began to mist and she turned away.

"Funny, he...she died ten years ago and I remember it like it was yesterday." She shook her head. Candace's eyes widened in recognition as she recalled the day.

---

---

The Home that Love Built, ten years before
“I love you Carl…I always will. Always. And I love you too, Carla…I don’t know who you are, but you’re part of my best friend…so I guess I…oh I don’t know.”
It was all too much for Margo to understand, but she didn’t travel nearly thirteen hundred miles just to get stuck on principle.

“No matter what, I love all of you.” She choked back a sob.

“NO!” The voice came from the doorway.

“I hate you…I hate you!” Keith yelled as he rushed to the bed. Margo went to grab him, but he pushed past her and fell against Carla’s prostrate form. He put his head on Carla’s chest and sobbed, over and over.

“I hate you. I hate you, Daddy…I hate you.” Carla raised her hand feebly and stroked Keith’s hair.

“I hate you….Daddy….noooo.nnnnooo I’m sorry Daddy….don’t go ….I love you…please…please.” Keith wept in Carla’s arms and Margo put her hand on his shoulder.

“I love you Keith….I love you all.” Carla continued to stroke Keith’s hair and pat Kyra on the back. Her hand brushed against Margo’s. She felt Margo grip her hand and her voice saying simply,

“It’s okay…we love you…we love you.”

A few moments later, Margo felt Carla’s hand go limp. Keith looked up and saw Carla’s face. She was smiling, but there was no light in her eyes. Keith looked up at his mother who took her right hand and covered her mouth. She went to cry, but no sound came out. She tried to reach out to Keith, but he had stood up. He took his sister in his arms and cried as hard as he ever had. She was nine and she almost understood what was happening.

“Four seventeen,” the voice said from the other side of the bed. Janet stood next to Carla’s body and tears streamed down her cheeks. She looked up and saw Candace standing in the doorway, weeping.

“Excuse me...I’ll leave you for a moment,” Janet said as she walked to the doorway. Gathering Candace in her arms, she kissed the girl on the forehead, pulling her in more. Candace buried her face in Janet’s sweater and sobbed.

“It’s okay, honey, Momma’s here.” Janet said softly as she stroked Candace’s hair…”It’s okay.”

---

---

Back in the apartment

“I brought cash.” Kyra said softly while gently tugging on Candace’s sleeve. Candace shook her head and opened her eyes.

“I’m sorry, I was lost in thought; what did you say?”

“I brought cash for the first month’s rent and deposit. I figured cash would be helpful.” Kyra smiled…that smile once again. Candace smiled back and then realized what was poking her in the head.

“Oh…you live in Baltimore. Why the apartment?” That wasn’t really what she was driving at, but she didn’t want to dive into the deep end of the pool just yet.

“My mom got remarried. Nice guy from Hagerstown. She closes on the family home next month, so I had to find a place.“

“Oh…that’s cool.” She turned her head and grimaced. “That’s cool?” She thought, wishing she’d kept quiet.

“Yes.” Kyra grinned.

“And yes to your next question.” She laughed softly.

“Whhat..what question?” Candace said nervously as her face began to grow warm.

“Does my brother still live in Baltimore…the answer is yes.” She laughed again.

“Oh…that’s nice.” Candace winced after the words left her mouth.

“You might even know him. I remember that you like sports…I’m surprised you don’t know.” She laughed again. Very sweet.

“Don’t know…what?” She grew red and turned her head, wondering if the answer was written somewhere on the wall of the apartment.

“He’s the eleven o’clock sports anchor for WMAR right here in town. You know…Keith Schroeder?”

“Oh shit…Oh…sorry. I…I watch him all the time.” She fibbed. She hardly watched broadcast TV; ESPN was almost always on her bedroom cable TV.

“If you do, you’re one of the few. MAR is tanking in the ratings, and he’s on the bubble to lose his job. Rumor is that they want to bring the evening girl in from New York, but they haven’t come out and said anything to him."

“Oh shit…Oh…sorry.” Her face had cooled off just enough for her to notice the warmth returning to her cheeks.

“Anyway, he’s helping me move in…I am moving in, right? Kyra smiled and rubbed Candace’s arm, causing her to wince.

“Oh…yes…you’re moving in…Ummm…let’s sit down and look at the lease, okay?”

Candace pointed to the kitchen table. She closed her eyes and thought once again about Kyra’s brother, and struggled to think of what he looked like. When she opened them up she realized that she was still standing in the middle of the room and that Kyra was still holding her arm.

---

---

That weekend at the apartment

The move went smoothly, insofar as the furniture was minimal and fit in Kyra’s room and a nice dining room set replaced their worn kitchen dinette.

“I can’t believe running into you after all these years.”

Keith Schroeder was truly amazed, and he was amazing, as far as Debbie and Candace were concerned. He had grown quite a bit in the ten years since his mother and sister and he visited the Home that Love Built. At six-four he was strikingly handsome, but not in the look-at-me way that some guys display.

And he was actually quite modest for a sportscaster. He was grateful for his opportunity to work in Baltimore, and he was quite popular even if he worked for the number four network out of six.

“You look terrific, Candace,” he said as he grabbed a second slice of mushroom and onion pizza from the box on the counter. She found herself staring at him and looked away, her cheeks growing red yet again from the embarrassment.

“You look terrific?” She mouthed silently.

She had always been self conscious around men; even more so nearly three years past her surgery. The abuse that she suffered at the hands of her stepfather was still taking its toll years later, despite therapy and the support of Janet and Cal, her adoptive parents.

Being a transsexual didn’t help her self-esteem. Even with a very helpful therapist, years of misplaced guilt and shame had led to few if any serious relationships. And to see Keith after all these years?

“So you guys know each other?” Debbie looked back and forth between Kyra and Keith and Candace.

“Oh, yes…Candace lived at the home where our dad…where Carla ended up. The hospice there took such good care of him.” Kyra’s eyes began to mist.

“Oh, I’m sorry…I still have the hardest time remembering.” She shook her head and Keith spoke up.

“It was so difficult to find out that our…our dad wanted to be…was a woman.” He shook his head, mirroring his sister’s embarrassment.

“That’s okay…I understand. You knew your dad for years and only had a few days to get to know his other self.” Debbie put her hand on Kyra’s shoulder.

“I never had a problem. When I came out to my parents and sister they just looked at me as if I were their daughter and sister all along. Most of us don’t have that acceptance. If we did, Candace’s mom and dad would be out of a job…happily, but it just isn’t happening for a lot of us.”

She smiled warmly and Keith caught what looked almost like a twinkle in her eyes. The look wasn’t lost on Candace either. She turned away and sighed.

“Candace helped her mom and her mom’s boss with Daddy all the way to the end.” Keith smiled and continued.

“How is that doctor who worked there? She was such a big help to us…to me.” He thought back to that day long ago and the letter from his father that Drea had given him.

---

---

Years before at the Home

I never meant to hurt you, and I am so sorry that I left…I know I said that, but you have to know it wasn’t because of anything you did. You are the best son anyone could ever have. I am so proud of how you have taken care of your mom and sis. Know that I love you and I’m so proud of the man you’re becoming. Give Kyra a kiss for me, okay? Dad.

Keith looked at Drea, as if to ask a question. Looking at the letter once again, he began to cry, not hysterically or loudly, but softly. He might have felt uncomfortable had he thought about it, but it felt entirely okay as he put his head on her shoulder and wept. She held him and rocked him, saying softly,
“It’s okay, Keith…go ahead…let it out.” Tears streamed down her own cheeks as she felt connected to the boy’s grief and sadness. “It’s okay.”

---

---

Back in the present...

“How is she? I think of her now and then.” Keith smiled and noticed the sad look on Candace’s face.

“She passed away a few years ago. It was a precious time.” Keith’s eyes widened and he turned to Kyra who shook her head and half-smiled.

“I like to think she’s looking down on us, you know? Like a grandmother.” Candace bit her lip and grinned warmly, trying to hold back her tears.

“That day we left?” Kyra laughed softly, her warm tone breaking the sad silence.

“You guys kissed on the porch. Mom was sitting in the front seat of the van with that lady Irene and I was sitting in the back. Keith came back to the van and he had the reddest look on his face…just like that,” she said as she pointed to her brother's magenta complexion and sheepish grin.

“First time I ever kissed a girl!” He laughed softly and smiled at Candace, whose turn it was to grow red as well.

“It was the most beautiful moment in a week full of sadness,” Kyra said as she grabbed Keith’s arm. You had been so wonderful to him, and it was a big help to all of us…you were so dear to Daddy and we can’t begin to thank you.”

“Carla was so nice to me…she was the first person I spoke to when I got to the Home besides my Mom and she made me feel like I belonged even though she was in such pain. I loved her like she was my family. I have to thank you.”

Candace wiped the tear from her face and looked away. Something was going on inside her; something she thought would never happen. The memory of the kiss brought back more than the past. It brought back that feeling she had lost since then…that she wasn’t a pretender. She wasn’t deluded or foolish, and she could look in the mirror once again and accept that she could be loved.

---

---

You know everything that I'm afraid of
You do everything I wish i did
Everybody wants you, everybody loves you
I know i should tell you how i feel
I wish everyone would disappear
Every time time you call me, I'm too scared to be me
And I'm too shy to say

---

---

“It’s not fair…son of a bitch….it’s not fair…..” She buried her face in her pillow and was sobbing so hard as to shake her bed. She didn’t hear the door open slightly and didn’t see the figure at the doorway shaking their head. Or the soft voice that nearly whispered,
“Nope…not fair at all….” Tears fell from the girl’s face as she witnessed her sad friend weep in despair; perhaps the same despair and feelings of being an oddity that she felt as well.
“Nope…not fair at all”

---

---

The girls' apartment in Baltimore on moving day...

"So you'll come? I thought a big celebrity like you wouldn't have time for us little folk?" Candace smiled.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world. Can I bring a date?" Keith asked as he grabbed a diet root beer out of the fridge. Candace took a short breath and turned away. She bit her tongue and without turning around said,

"Sure. That'll be okay." It wasn't okay at all. Candace had looked forward to the party. It seemed like a time to renew friendships and maybe see if new things could begin. She fought back tears and walked out of the room.

"Give me a sec, okay... gotta get something from my room." She'd likely find a book or a CD that would fit the bill to disguise the fact that she needed to be anywhere but in the same room with her first crush.

"Okay. I'll still be here when you get back." Keith noticed nothing, which was likely to his advantage for the moment, since things would ultimately work out between the two of them; just not in the way either of them would have anticipated.

Ooh, I got a crush on you
I hope you feel the way that i do
I get a rush
When I'm with you
Ooh, I've got a crush on you
A crush on you

---

---

The girls' apartment the following Saturday

“Candace, I’d like you to meet Gina Edelsohn. She’s a meteorologist at the station. Gina, this is Candace McGuire, a good friend of mine who I’m happy to say has re-made my acquaintance.” Keith smiled as the two women shook hands. Candace looked uncomfortable as Gina began to speak.

“Keith tells me you’re going for your doctorate in Nursing Education. That’s wonderful. My mom and my Sis are both nurses at Johns Hopkins, and my partner is a nursing instructor at Georgetown. She’s dropping by later if it’s not too much trouble. My ride home since I’ve got the early morning weather these days.”

Candace turned as she felt her face grow warm. She faked a sneeze and turned back to see Keith smiling.

“Funny, Shroeder, really funny.” She punched him hard in the arm as Gina looked on in amazement.

“Keith, you are a brat…. Did he tell you I was his date? He’s like a brother to me…a really bratty snot-nosed sticking your pigtails in the inkwell brother.” She laughed and punched his other arm.

“Ow…you guys hit hard.” He winced as Candace stared at him.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll let you guys catch up, okay. I’ll go say hi to Kyra.” She was off into the kitchen.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist. You are such an easy target.” He said. The playfulness seemed to disappear for Candace as she thought of how disappointed she’d become when she thought Keith was taken.

“Hey, it isn’t like we’re going to start dating… I’m sure you’ve got someone. You do, don’t you?” She did if by having someone included listening to Josh Groban and crying into her pillow. She had almost given up hope of ever loving someone. Keith seemed to reinforce her fears when he spoke again.

“I asked your roommate out…I hope you don’t mind?” She looked over at Debbie who was pouring some ginger ale for Kyra.

“Mind? No...Not at all…why should I? It isn’t like we were dating or anything?” Candace had been in fairly good control up to that point. She lost it all as she shook her head.

“Excuse me…I...I’ve got to …sorry…” She said as she walked out of the living room and down the hallway to her bedroom. Closing the door behind her, she fell onto the bed and wept.

“It’s not fair…son of a bitch….it’s not fair…..” She buried her face in her pillow and was sobbing so hard as to shake her bed. She didn’t hear the door open slightly and didn’t see the figure at the doorway shaking their head. Or the soft voice that nearly whispered,

“Nope…not fair at all….” Tears fell from the girl’s face as she witnessed her sad friend weep in despair; perhaps the same despair and feelings of being an oddity that she felt as well.

“Nope…not fair at all”

Ooh, I wish i could tell somebody
But there's no one to talk to, nobody knows
I've got a crush on you
A crush on you, I got a crush

---

---

Sunday morning...

“I know he never said anything, Mom…but…” Candace spoke softly into the phone, trying to plead her case with Janet.

“Well, I thought that seeing me again…the kiss…Gosh mom, I know it was ten years ago…” She bit her lip as she listened to her mother tell her how special and important she was.

“Look how long it took for you to meet Cal…Mom…I can’t wait that long…” She felt like throwing the phone. She wasn’t angry at her mother; just what her mother pointed out…that life isn’t fair.

“Okay…I’ll call you tomorrow. NO, I haven’t run out of Kleenex…” she chuckled.

“I love you so much Mommy!” The ‘Mommy’ was rarely invoked, saved for only special occasions and dire straits.

“Love you…bye…yeah I will…bye Mom!” She clicked the phone off and sat down at the kitchen table. She rested her head on her arms and began to cry softly.

“Hey...whatever it is, we’ll get through it, right,” She heard a voice from behind as soft hands began to massage her shoulders. She turned to see Kyra smiling at her.

“I saw the look on your face last night. Come on, Cee, It’s me, you can tell me anything.” She half-frowned in sympathy and continued.

“Debbie is so upset and sad about this.…they just hit it off, sweetie…you know how that can happen.” Without looking up, Candace sobbed softly,

“Just by reading about it…I…I neh-ver had a boyfriend. I never had anybody….”

“I know…I’ve never had anybody either, honey…I know how hard it can be when you don’t feel like you fit in.” Kyra kept massaging Candace’s shoulders.

“Whhaaat??? How would you know?” Like many of us, at the moment of her despair, Candace was convinced that no one could ever understand how she felt.

“I never had any boyfriends either, but not because they didn’t like me. It’s because I only liked them as friends, sweetie. You know?” She smiled and kept her ministrations going as Candace grew less tense until,

“What? You only like boys as friends?” Her shoulders tensed as she sat up, turning around to face Kyra.

“Yeah…what of it…ohhhh shit….” She pulled her hands away from Candace’s shoulders as she shook her head.

“No…no ….not… I just wanted….” Her face grew bright red and she burst into tears. She ran down the hallway and ran into her room, slamming the door behind her, more out of fear and embarrassment than anything else.

Candace stood up and shook her head. She wiped the tears from her eyes and went to walk down the hall. As she grew closer to Kyra’s room she could hear sobbing. Thinking better of it, she backed off and walked down the hallway and sat back down at the kitchen table. She shook her head once before returning it to her arms on the table as she began once again to weep softly.

---

---

Tuesday afternoon at Pei Wei Asian Diner...

“You really should say something to Candace.” Debbie brushed her hair out of her eyes and began again.

“Keith…I mean it…she really thought you were going to …you know…like a fairy tale almost…when she saw you after all this time? I’ve known her for nearly four years, and I’ve never seen a look on her face like what she showed the other night. She’s hurt, and you…well we both need to talk to her about us. It’s only fair to her and to me.”

“You’re right. I’ve been thinking about it since we started going out. I didn’ t even know that she was the same Candace until I got to the apartment with my sister; Kyra’s one for surprises and that surprised the heck out of me. I’m sure it didn’t do her any good the other night when she found out you and I were dating. Well…”

“It certainly didn’t help when you acted like you were just asking me out when we’ve been dating for two months, Keith. Why would you let her think that? She’s upset and insecure at this point.!”

Keith looked away, knowing ahead of time it wasn’t time to joke, but he did anyway.

“At least she knows it isn’t because she’s trans.” No sooner did the words leave his mouth then Debbie looked at him in embarrassment.

“I’m so glad I got to be the subject of your object lesson. Is that what I am to you? Just a t-girl? Just someone you can point to and say how broadminded you are? How could you?” Debbie stood up, her face red and her eyes beginning to fill with tears.

“Fine…I’m glad I could help. Maybe this will get you that Community Service Award you keep talking about? Date a trans and show how tolerant you are? Fuck off, Keith Schroeder!” She ran from the restaurant and was gone as Keith sat quietly at the table.

---

---

Saturday morning at the girls' apartment...

It’s said in some circles that women who live together for a length of time sometimes will have their cycles coincide. In the apartment, the crying cycle seemed to be synchronized as all three of the women sat in various rooms while weeping.

Every once and a while their paths would cross. They would shake their heads and shrug their shoulders before returning to the living room or the bathroom or the kitchen or their own bedrooms, only to begin crying again. A knock on the door interrupted them. Kyra walked to the door to find Keith standing on the landing. His eyes were red and he looked very tired.

“Hey sis! Are the girls in?”

“Yeah, but I don’t think this is a good time to….” She barely got that out when he walked past her into the living room. Candace looked up and shook her head. She went to rise when Keith blurted out,
“
Good…don’t move.” He walked down the hallway and knocked on Debbie’s door.

“Go away!” The voice cried from under some blankets and a pillow. Keith tried the door and it opened.
He walked up to the bed and asked,”

“You got your pajamas on?” Debbie nodded and went to speak. He grabbed her by the hand and lifted her out of bed. Wasting no time, he walked her down the hallway and sat her down on the couch opposite Candace. He pointed to the chair next to Candace and Kyra sat down as he sat down on the couch next to Debbie.

“Good…let’s clear the air, shall we? I’ll begin. Hi, I’m Keith Schroeder, and I’m a complete ass! Mind you, that’s not as bad as being half-assed, but still.” His attempt at humor failed to amuse. Kyra shook her head, Debbie just put her head down, and Candace buried her face into the wing of the chair.

“Let me start over,” he said in a softer voice.

“Ladies. I am so sorry for my behavior. I should have communicated better. You deserve more than just that, but at the least, I was so insensitive.” He looked at Candace as she faced him.

“We had something very special that day so long ago. I will always remember you as the first girl I kissed. And I should have told you how special that was. But I also needed to tell you right away that Debbie and I had already met even before Kyra moved in. You are one special woman, Candace, but just not for me. I’m sorry for hurting you.”

She turned away and wept again, but not bitterly but with disappointment nonetheless.

“Debbie. I am so sorry for being so foolish the other day. I knew from the moment I met you that you I…well? There was something between us like I’ve never had. And it didn’t make any difference one way or the other about how you got to be who you are. You aren’t a transsexual to me…you’re a woman I’ve fallen in love with. I am sorry for taking so long to say that, but I love you, and I am so glad you’re in my life. Can you forgive me?”

“You…you love me?” Debbie’s eyes widened as she looked at Keith.

“Yes…I do. Very much so. Can you forgive me?”

“You love me? Of course I forgive you.” Her lip began to quiver and she started crying all over again.

“What? Debbie…Why are you crying?”

“Be…because you love me.” She tilted her head and half-smiled even as the tears fell from her chin.

---

---

That evening...

“Hey.” Kyra said softly as she entered the room. Candace lifted her head from her arms and smiled weakly.

“You gonna be okay?” Kyra said as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

“Yeah…I’m okay…just getting used to being a woman instead of a starstruck teenager.” She smiled and sat up.

“No more crying…ever!” She laughed softly which evoked a soft “mmm” from Kyra.

“I mean it…no crying ever again for any reason. Hmmhph…wish it were so,” she said softly as tears filled her eyes. Kyra put her cup of coffee down and walked behind Candace. Putting her hands on Candace’s shoulders, she began to massage.

“You know, tears can be very cleansing. I think all of us have got that down pretty good. It’s the laughing and smiling and all that other good stuff we need to get a handle on.” Her hands felt Candace tense up as she began to sob.

“Hey…none of that.” She leaned closer and started to sing in Candace’s ear,”

You know, I'm the one that you can talk to
And sometimes you tell me things that i don't want to know
I just want to hold you
And you say exactly how you feel about him
(And I wonder, could you ever think of me that way)

She left the last line unsung, but she thought it anyway.

“It’s okay, honey, let it out…it’s alright.” Kyra embraced Candace from behind and began to weep along with her friend. Mostly for Candace’s sadness, but also for that part of her that felt she would never be able to tell her how she felt. Never be able to be loved as well. She kissed Candace on the cheek, tasting her tears. Candace turned to face her.

“Hehhhey…don’t cry…I’ll be alright…it’s okay.” She half-smiled and hugged her friend.

“I just hate to see you so sad…it hurts me so much to see you sad.” By then, tears were streaming down the faces of both girls.

“That’s so sweet.” She pulled Kyra closer to kiss her, a sisterly kiss of course. As she brought her face close to Kyra’s she felt something change; in an instant things were quite different for her than a moment ago. She kissed Kyra on the lips; it was right and wonderful and sad and happy and lovely all at once; the magic of that first kiss was left far behind as she discovered that the one thing that trumps one’s first kiss is the kiss of one’s true love.

Ooh, I got a crush on you
I hope you feel the way that i do
I get a rush
When I'm with you
Ooh, I've got a crush on you
A crush on you

---

---

Even through the darkest phase
Be it thick or thin
Always someone marches brave
Here beneath my skin
And constant craving
Has always been

---

---

A few days later...

“Honey? Are you okay?” Kyra walked into the kitchen and noticed Candace had laid her head on the table.

“Yeah,” she said as she looked up, but there were tears in her eyes. Kyra saw that Candace wasn’t quite at home but had slipped through a wrinkle in time, as the book read, which too often swept her back to a day where hurt and pain were her routine. Candace had told her about the abuse she had suffered at the hands of her mother and stepfather before she came to the Home that Love Built and her adoption by Janet McGuire.

“Nightmares? Oh damn, Sweetie, you’ve been dealing with that for so long…I wish there was something I could do?” She leaned closer from behind and embraced her girlfriend and kissed her softly on the ear.

“You’re doing exactly what you can, Ky… hold me tight, okay? Hug me as tight as you can?” Candace turned to face her and smiled. Kyra pulled close and kissed her, making sure she paid care to the girl’s eyelids; Candace loved that part of Kyra’s playful attention.

“Mmmmm…that’s nice.” She was still crying, but the tears were abating as she gave herself to the moment. She pulled Kyra around and pulled her down on her lap, continuing to kiss back until the two broke off at the sound of a loud clink. The screw holding the back left leg popped and caromed off the oven door with a ping as they plummeted to the floor with a very loud thud.

“Ow…” Candace rolled off the broken chair and looked over at her girlfriend, who sat on the floor leaning against the oven; her face was covered with tears, but she was laughing and sported a silly grin.

“What?” Candace slapped Kyra’s knee.

“I… I guess I’ve really fallen for you.” She rolled over onto the floor and laughed hysterically, her eyes closed. A moment later she felt the soft weight of her lover slip atop her body, hands caressing and patting and pinching and stroking gently.

“I love you.” Candace said before she resumed kissing her lover and soon to be fiancee’ if she could just get the courage to speak. Kyra cooed softly as she enjoyed Candace’ attention.

“M…Mmmmm.” Kyra moaned, and Candace responded with a cooing sing-song voice.

“Mmmm….to you, too.” Candace thought she echoed until Kyra tried to speak.

“MMMM!” She wasn’t able to manage more than that with Candace’ lips placed firmly against hers. She reached up and grabbed the girl’s face with both hands, firmly but gently pushing it away long enough to blurt out,

“Marry me!”

---

---

Amaryllis Jewelers, Baltimore Maryland...that same day...

Maybe a great magnet pulls
All souls towards truth
Or maybe it is life itself
Leads wisdom
To its youth
Constant craving
Has always been

Keith looked around nervously at the array of jewelry in the displays. He felt for some strange and entirely ignorant reason that the ring had to be more special than just an engagement ring; that somehow his commitment to Debbie went beyond their love into some acknowledgement of her ‘status.’

Even after spending time with her over the past several months, he still remained clueless in that regard. One thing was absolutely sure, even if he didn’t get the details right…he loved her more than anything, and it was really him just trying too hard instead of listening to what she said.

“Decided yet, sir?” The girl behind the display case teased. Between today and the past three days, he had spent nearly three hours mulling over which ring to buy. The girl finally took pity on him and said quietly,

“You probably need to think about the girl first, and the ring will follow.”

“I’m not following you… think about the girl?” Keith looked down at the rings in the display case and they again at the sales girl…”Judy.” She actually resembled the elf in The Santa Clause.

“What kind of girl is she? Does she love jewelry or is she the kind of girl who wears it out of necessity? Does she like simple or exravagant? What kind of personality is she; vivacious? Reserved? Shy? Carefree? Think about the girl and the ring will follow."

He stood there for a moment and stared down at the array of rings; not just single rings, but sets of engagement rings and matching wedding bands. He swallowed hard at the thought of engagement and marriage; he wasn’t afraid of getting married so much as wondering if he’d make a suitable husband.

He thought of the years of ignorance and lost opportunities to be kind and caring, and he felt ashamed. And well he should, apart from the fact that he had asked for and received forgiveness from those he hurt. And he thought about Debbie…how she would see him was just as important as how he had come to see her.

“See anything that suits her?” Judy smiled and pointed to the case. “No hurry. Alice and I are having lunch delivered…can I get you anything?” She teased.

“That one!” He pointed to the ring in the far corner of the display case; it was almost like a wallflower at the senior prom, so separated it was from the others. But it was also set apart because it was special; earmarked just for him to discover. Judy opened the case from the back and grabbed the small box and handed it to Keith.

“This one is so perfect, I bet, because she’s such a special girl to you. I’d guess it took a while to decide to ask her…you don’t feel you’re good enough, right? I’ve seen that look plenty of times. You know…” She paused.

“What’s your name?” She smiled at him and he practically whispered,

“Keith.”

“You know, Keith…wanting to be perfect is a nice thought, but no one ever reaches that…at least in this lifetime. But that you feel unworthy? She’s a lucky girl to have you. I can see that. I’m sure she’ll love this…it took a lot of thought and a lot of care.” She smiled again as he reached for his wallet and pulled out the credit card.

“Oooh…I just remembered…today is ‘I can’t decide because she’s just such a wonderful girl discount day!’ 20% off! And it also comes with a free complete dinner voucher for two at Pazo’s over on Alicannas.” She smiled.

“Really, wow…I really lucked out.” He laughed softly but his expression turned puzzled when she started to laugh.

“Not really, Keith. Debbie and I went to high school together. She was my brother’s best friend growing up until she hit high school and realized she wasn’t cut out for shirts and ties. Oh, and Pazo’s is my cousin’s restaurant. Tell Tony that Judy says she’ll get him wholesale on anything he likes if he introduces me to Joey Flacco, okay?”

“He knows Joey Flacco? Oh gosh… you and Debbie are friends?”

“BFF! And the ring… It’s my gift to you and Debbie, okay…” She sighed and looked at her bare ring finger.

“I would think working at WMAR that you’d know Joey Flacco…Hall of Fame…Super Bowl and all. Anyway, c’mere and give me a hug. I’m so happy for you two.”

Keith walked over to the end of the counter and Judy hugged him.

“God bless you two, okay?”

---

---

Back at the apartment...

Kyra had managed to extricate herself from under Candace, who by then had fallen sideways and was lying on the floor beside her. She stood up and then helped Candace to her feet. The girl’s face told Kyra everything she needed to know, but Candace quickly followed with a kiss and a hug, along with a big,

“Yes!”

Craving
Ah ha
Constant craving
Has always been

---

---

And who can say
if your love grows
as your heart chose
only time

---

---

A few days later….Somewhere on the western shore of the Chesapeake River in Maryland…

“Oh, God, Keith…it’s beautiful.” Debbie said as her soft alto voice hit the rare soprano range with “beautiful. She stared at the ring in the jeweler’s box and began to cry.

“I realized two things yesterday when I talked to your friend. One I was already aware of, and one was brand new. He smiled as he gently lifted her left hand, pushing the ring onto Debbie’s finger.

“I know that I’m not at all able to be the perfect husband…because I’m far from perfect.” He sighed as tears came to his own eyes.

“But I also learned that I don’t have to be perfect; I just have to be willing to do whatever it takes to be the best husband I can be.”

Debbie started to cry harder. Her mother would have at one time almost demanded that it would be ‘her’ that would be the perfect husband, but her transition train picked up three passengers only a few years ago as her mother and father and brother finally realized just what a wonderful woman their son and brother actually was.

“Do you know what I love about you?” Keith asked as he kissed her hand; his tears hit the gem in the middle of the ring and the prism of the facets caused them to appear almost like a rainbow.

“What?” Debbie remained understandably insecure, and knowing what he loved would help her duplicate it. He smiled at her and said,

“Nothing…..and everything. Honey…you don’t have to earn my love. You don’t have to perform…You just have to be. I love you so much.” He choked back a sob with the last words before drawing her closer for a kiss; their tears mingled together as they celebrated their first engagement kiss.

---

---

Who can say
where the road goes
where the day flows
only time

The girl’s apartment…several weeks later…

Kyra’s voice came softly from the bedroom as she sang while she folded clothes. Candace came up from behind and whispered,

“I don’t know…” Kyra turned quickly with a start.

“What…what don’t you know?”

“The song…you were singing…I really don’t know who can say….I just know that at the end of the day….you’re here…for me.” She leaned into Kyra’s shoulder and kissed her neck gently.

“And who can say if your love grows?” Kyra sang; tilting her head backs as Candace began to move up her neck toward her ear. She shuddered as her lover’s eyelashes brushed her lobe.

“Mine has…” Candace whispered again.

“I know…” Kyra shuddered again. She smiled, but she pulled away, leaving Candace as she shook her head and returned to the laundry.
“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing…it’s just that we have to get the place ready for Janet and Cal and my Mom, too.” She shrugged her shoulders, but her expression seemed almost sad.

“I know…but that’s not what’s going on here.” Candace shook her head slightly and finished, “Is it?”

“No…yes? Oh, I don’t know. I’m just…”

“Is it because of tomorrow?” Candace looked over at the picture on the faux fireplace mantel. A picture of a woman… in a bed with Candace and her mom Janet on either side. The woman appeared weak, but her smile was warm and inviting.

“It’s been eleven years, you know? I see that picture and it makes me… “

“She came to us when she was so near the end…it was a miracle you guys even got there…”

“Don’t try to explain it, okay?” Kyra snapped and turned her back and began to toss the folded tees and underwear back in the basket.

“I’m sorry…I just….” Candace wanted things to be different, but Kyra and Keith both only had a day with their…what to even call her…Carla? Ms. Schroeder? Their other mother?

“He…You had all that time to get to know her, and I only met her once…the day she died, damn it. I only remember her as my father. I was eleven years old, Cee, you know…” She said over her shoulder before returning the clothes.

“Look…I understand.”

“Do you? I suppose you do have a right to talk, with the way your step-father and mother treated you…but that’s just it. You never had what I had. He was my fucking father, and he left us…I cried every week for a whole year before you guys came and got us…And I cried every night for a year after he died…I don’t know how to put it, Cee. Sure…she was a woman, I guess, but…”

“You guess? What does that make me?”

“What?” Kyra turned around and blinked out the tears that blurred her view of Candace, who was red-faced and shaking.

“If you don’t know if she was a woman? What does that make me? I had…I thought you understood…I guess you don’t.” Candace shook her head once before running down the hall and slamming the door.

And who can say
if your love grows
as your heart chose
only time

“Cee…Candace? Come on…open the door.”

“Go away…just go away.”

“I didn’t mean it that way…we just have to talk more?”

“Really…oh yeah…that’s great. Look how well we’ve done already.” Candace said before sobbing.

“Cee…come on…you know what I meant….Okay…you didn’t, but I didn’t mean it that way. Would I even be here if I didn’t care about you?” Kyra leaned against the door with her cheek against the top panel and her palm resting on the door frame.

“I didn’t say you didn’t love me, Ky…I know you love me…but do you understand me? Who I am…what I am…” Candace choked back a sob.

“I’m just like your dad… and you’ve know me longer than you knew him…longer than you knew her…don’t you get it? When you say stuff like that it hurts…like I’m some sort of substitute like Sweet n’ Low.”

“That’s just it, Cee… I do get it…Because I got the chance to know you…to know who you are. I already know what you are…you’re a woman, just like me. Think back…Keith has his own apartment…I wasn’t in the way there, but I chose to move here when you had the opening. Why would I do that…Why, Candace?” Kyra raised her voice but still managed to avoid yelling.

“I don’t know…you tell me!” Candace shot back, and her tone was mixed with anger and sadness.

“I wanted to be near you. I’ve done nothing but think about you for the past ten years. Oh sure, I had girlfriends and such…and even dated a guy for a while, but none of them approached you. The kindness you and your mom showed my family in the midst of your own grief. You knew my dad as a woman I only got to meet briefly…you touched her heart in a way I can only imagine. And she was better for it, even if it only lasted for a short time.

“You mean that…” Candace sobbed.

“I love you more than anything else in the whole world, Cee…We never grew up together and I never kissed you until now, but in a big way, you’ve always been my childhood sweetheart. A Damsel in Shining Armor, I suppose.”

“You…you mean that?” Candace said haltingly as her sobs grew softer.

“You open this door and I’ll show you, okay?” Kyra laughed out of frustration, but she so longed to show Candace how much she cared. Candace still had walls around her from her childhood that only Janet had been able to break through, and only to a point.

“Let me in, Cee, please.” Kyra banged on the doorframe with her palm, twisting her wrist.

“Ow…” She cried out and then began to cry. She slumped down to the floor, her head still resting against the door. She kept crying until she heard a click as the lock turned and the door opened. Candace dropped to the floor and threw her arms around Kyra, kissing her repeatedly.

“I’m so sorry…” Over and over, she kept saying it; all the while continuing to kiss Kyra.

“I’m sorry, too, Cee…” Kyra said quietly between hugs before kissing back.

Who can say
why your heart sighs
as your love flies
only time
And who can say
why your heart cries
when your love lies
only time

---

---

A few weeks later...

“Who gives this woman in marriage?” The grandfatherly-looking man on the platform asked with a big smile. Janet and Cal stepped forward, placing their hands on Candace’s shoulder.

“We do.”

The minister nodded with a grin before turning his attention to the other side of the aisle.

“And who gives this woman in marriage?” He smiled as Kyra’s mother and step-father drew close and said,

“We do,” Margo said. She squeezed her husband’s Billy's hand with a nod as her right hand swept back to point at the empty seat in the front row where a picture of a woman leaned against the back rest of the chair. Kyra stared at the photo of her other parent, the father she loved forever who was Carla Schroeder, the woman who she was coming to know through the memories of others. She sobbed once before composing herself as Candace reached over and grabbed her hand.

“May we have the rings please?” The reverend grandpa said softly. Keith stepped forward and handed a ring to Kyra while Debbie, the most recently married Mrs. Debbie Schroeder, handed her the ring. The minister nodded again and Kyra and Candace sang the first part of their vows, a duet that posed a rhetorical question…

Who can say
if your love grows
as your heart chose
only time
And who can say
where the road goes
where the day flows
only time

“I, Candace, give you, Kyra, all my love and support…as much as I can whenever I can. I love you, and I vow to treasure you and keep you in my heart.

I, Kyra, give you, Candace, the same love back as we reflect our care and support. I love you more than life it self, and I pray that I can be for you what you have already become for me; my dear love.

“Insofar as these two have expressed their commitment to each other, and as witnessed by these wonderful families and you lovely people, I, by the power vested in me by God and the state of acceptance and love, pronounce these two married…” he said and paused, almost for effect, before saying at last,

“You each may kiss the Bride,“ he laughed softly as Kyra and Candace kissed…as only two women in love can.

Who can say
when the roads meet
that love might be
in your heart

And who can say
when the day sleeps
if the night keeps
all your heart
Night keeps all your heart

Who knows - only time
Who knows - only time

---

---

These Are the Days
As Performed by Natalie Merchant
Words and Music by Natalie Merchant
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a522lCM-vko

Crush
Words and Music by
Kenny Gioia and Shep Goodman
as performed by
Mandy Moore
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wkMa7gIcnCM

Constant Craving
Words and music by
K.D. Lang and Ben Mink
As performed by HSCC
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oc349GF-dtw

Only Time
Words and Music by
Roma Ryan and Enya
As performed by Enya
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7wfYIMyS_dI

---

---

The family room of the Infantino home, York, Pennsylvania

"Chris...please. You've got to tell your Mom... please."

"I...just can't... I just....no..." Chris turned away and put his head against the wall, trying hard not to cry. “She won’t understand…no…”

“If you won’t…then I will.” The girl sighed.

“NO! I’ll…I’ll go talk to Pastor Jerry…”

“Promise me…tomorrow?” The girl cried.

“Oh…okay.” Chris nodded. "Okay..."

Martha said, "Master, if you'd been here, my brother wouldn't have died. Even now, I know that whatever you ask God he will give you."

---

Grace Fellowship, York, Pennsylvania...a few days later...

“Chris Markham, God bless you! How in the world are you today?” Jerry stepped around from his desk and gave the boy a hug.

“I’ve…oh…I just stopped by to…what’s the schedule for the B worship team next month?”

“First and fourth Sunday…here, I printed up a schedule for the next three months,” Jerry said, handing the boy a list from a pile of papers on his desk.

“But that’s not what you’re here for. There’s more to you today than just drums and schedules, am I right?” The man was friendly but insistent.

“No…that’s it…Thanks.” Chris turned to leave and the boy felt a strong hand grip his arm.

“Is it that Thompson girl…” The way he said it made it sound almost dirty.

“Ruth…no…not her.” Chris felt his face grow hot.

“It’s gotta be something Chris. Come on…you can talk to me.”

“Oh….okay.” He had every intention of making something up as he went along; the shame of his… problem…was almost too much to bear, but sharing it would likely make things worse. Jerry’s welcoming smile seemed to disarm his defenses, despite Jerry’s remark.

“What’s going on? You look really upset.” Jerry was using all of the counseling skills he had developed as a youth pastor and as a student of counseling at his Bible College; all four years.

“No…nothing, really...school.” He almost said ‘yeah.’

“You can’t fool me, Chris…” Chris wasn’t trying to fool anyone.

“I’m pretty good at guessing.” Jerry smiled, almost in congratulations to himself.

“No…really… it’s school. I’m…I’m having trouble with…buh…” He stammered.

“Bullies?” It certainly wasn’t bubonic plague or buffalos or bunsen burners, but Jerry felt sure he discerned what would have been obvious to everyone.

“Ye…Yes?” Chris shrugged his shoulders, almost as if he were asking Jerry to help him identify what he already knew. He continued,

“There…there are….guys…at school.” There were guys at school who bullied him, but that wasn’t what he wanted to say; what he really didn’t want to say, actually. He shrugged his shoulders again.

“Now…that’s not all, is it, Chris. You wouldn’t lie to me?”

He challenged the boy. The truth about shame and guilt doesn’t come out with accusations or confrontation, but that’s what Jerry was taught, so that’s what Jerry employed.

“Nnn…no.” He put his head down.

“Okay…tell me what’s bothering you!” A command instead of an invitation. Guilt can often get us to reveal instead of conceal; the shame of being a liar outweighed his fear, sadly, and Chris ‘opened up.’

“I’m…I can’t talk to my Mom about this and my Dad would kill me if he knew.” Chris was determined without any success at all to keep from crying.

“Listen, Chris…’A problem shared is a problem halved,’ right?” Jerry quoted an old saw feeling confident that he’d get to the heart of the matter. He ignored the needs of the heart of the boy in front of him, however.

“You’ll feel better if you tell me.” Jerry was confident even as the boy in front of him was doubtful beyond belief, but this was his pastor and he had to tell someone, didn’t he.

“I’m…you know the…the kind of boy….”

“Yes…” Jerry said as if he knew when he hadn’t any clue at all.

“Who…a boy who feels…no…” Chris caught himself. He didn’t just feel, he knew.

“Yes?”

“I’m…trans…” The boy hadn’t gotten the first syllable out of his mouth when Jerry’s expression changed.

“Son…you’ve got to repent. Leviticus is plain about men in women’s clothing.” He was abrupt but he tried to make his tone welcoming. The shock of what he thought he heard did nothing to assist his efforts, and he just sounded upset.

“N…no…pastor…no. it’s not that….no.” Chris, on the other hand, had tried to be conciliatory but his efforts failed and he sounded sad instead. His efforts weren’t helped at all as the tears flowed down his face.

“Okay…I’m sorry…stop crying…it’ll be alright…tell me what’s wrong.” He was sorry; it wouldn’t be alright, at least for a while; and nothing was wrong except for his inability to listen.

“I think…” Chris backed off, feeling less confident about knowing himself and allowing the moment to push him further into his shame.

“You think?” It sounded like, “Just what do you mean, you think?”

“I’m a transsexual.” Chris put his head down once again and began to weep. A moment later he felt a strong hand kneading his shoulder as he heard.

“Dear God, please help this boy with this problem. I trust you to heal him of this terrible thing. I know he wants to change, and we give you all the glory for the work you are about to do. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”

He squeezed Chris’ shoulder once before walking back behind his desk and sitting down. A few moments later the boy raised his head, but only after wiping his face with his sleeve. He choked back a sob.

“Now you know we have a men’s breakfast every first Saturday here, don’t you. I haven’t seen you at all since last fall, and I can bet that’s something that needs to happen.” He was summing up Chris’ pain with a recommendation. The boy put his head down once again.

“Now, now…you just listen to me, Chris. We’ll get to the root of this; there are lots of reasons for a man of Christ to be afflicted with such a dreadful problem…single mom…absent dad…you know…but you’re a good boy, and you’re just confused. The men’s accountability group meets on Tuesday evening; I expect opening up to other men in the church will be just the thing to help you. It’s going to be okay.”

There was that word again…’okay.’ It grated on the boy’s soul like a knife scraped across a cement sidewalk. He nodded and rose, nearly losing his balance in the process.

“Call me if you need me, okay?” Jerry smiled his welcoming smile once again as the boy walked slowly out the door.

---

“You just need to pray more. The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.” Advice!

“I’m sure spending time away from women all the time will be a big help. Too much estrogen in the house.” A joke?

“I felt that way once…” A lament?

“You been online…nothing but trouble on line.” An opinion?

“It’s a demon…Now a Man of Christ can’t be possessed…just can’t happen…but oppressed… absolutely …you need deliverance, boy!” A sermon?

---

The boy kept going to the groups; his heart grew brittle and the constant advice, jokes, opinions and sermons shattered it into tiny, nearly irretrievable pieces. The lament never once repeated as the man who wept in sympathy stopped coming. Chris heard that he’d left the church. But Chris kept at it. Slowly, his ‘demons’ departed and his confusion disappeared and his doubts dissipated as he became more like what he was ‘supposed’ to be as a Man of Christ. And the girl inside him died.

Others among them said, "Well, if he loved him so much, why didn't he do something to keep him from dying? After all, he opened the eyes of a blind man."

---

Living Hope Fellowship, New Salem, Pennsylvania...a few years later...

“We love because he first loved us.” The woman said as she smiled a welcoming smile.

Chris’ wife had seen his despondency; the long arduous struggle with depression had affected his health. She brought him to church with her that Sunday. Something inside him felt odd; a sensation that Celia described later as ‘reassembly.’ She looked over at him and saw that he was weeping, even though the pastor had only just begun to speak.

“Honey…what’s wrong?” Not wrong with him, but what was hurting him that was so wrong.

“Nothing…and everything.” He put his head down and began to weep once again. A moment later he felt a hand softly caressing the back of his neck. He looked up to see a woman…the woman who had been preaching just a moment before.

“Folks…this man is hurting; from what we don’t know, but the depth of his pain is piercing the heart of Christ like a sword. Let’s just stop for a while and pray for him. You folks here next to him. Reach out and touch him and let him know he’s loved, okay?” She smiled and knelt down and cupped his chin. Her own tears nearly matched that of hi and Celia's as she prayed.

“Dear Precious God…I don’t know why this man is hurt, but he is. I know you know and that you care and love him and want to see him whole and filled with your joy and peace. Touch his heart and lift his spirits and that of his dear wife here…your name…his name?”

“Celia…and Chris.” Celia said between sobs. She could see without seeing; true faith that his deliverance had finally come.

“Dear sweet Lord God, please touch Celia and Chris today. Let them know the reality of your love as you work through us. We recall the verse…that powerful and sad verse that tells us all we need to know about you." She touched his face with her hand.

Jesus Wept

“Dear ones…weep with this dear couple…we don’t know their hearts other than to know that they are very sad and tired and need refuge.” She leaned closer to Chris and spoke softly in his ear.

“Can you tell me what is hurting you, Chris?” Her voice…opened a door for him.

“I’m …I think…” He spoke haltingly between sobs…

“I’m…” He put his head down and sobbed. Celia leaned closer and caught the pastor’s eye. She turned and Celia mouthed the words,

“He…she’s transsexual…” It wasn’t a confession, so nothing was violated by her speaking on his behalf; for that is what it was…a kind word of information to a caring soul about the one she loved.

The pastor nodded and smiled. She began to pray, and something in Celia’s heart jumped for joy as the woman’s words were loud and clear and loving.

“May this dear soul be free from the expectations and demands of the past, and let this dear one know of your word….’fearfully and wonderfully made…” No more guilt and shame Lord but only joy and peace and forgiveness and comfort and acceptance, dear God. Touch the hearts of these two with your hand.” She looked around and saw that nearly every one of the thirty or so of the congregation was weeping. She smiled once again, lifted her hands in the air and spoke a loud amen.

The service ended a short while later with some singing and a closing prayer. Celia and Chris held back as the church emptied. He sat, exhausted, while Celia spoke with an elderly couple. Finally, they were the last ones remaining in the church. The pastor didn’t wait for them to come to the door but walked instead to the middle of the sanctuary where Chris and Celia sat.

“Hello…I’m Jennie Davidovich…I’m so glad you came. I hope we didn’t make it too uncomfortable for you, but I felt you needed our help more than the talk I was planning on giving.” She smiled and looked up at the pulpit.

“That’s what’s so neat about God…he usually has plans that we can sorta follow, but every once and a while he changes the script, you know? Anyway…again, I wanted to welcome you.” She paused as a man walked up the center aisle and grabbed her hand, kissing her on the cheek.

“Oh…hi, honey. How’d I do?”

“Great as always….Hi…I’m Greg, the pastor’s helpmeet!” He laughed softly and his eyes sparkled.

“We try not to stay stuck on structure; more like a skeleton that He hangs his skin on, you know?” Jennie said. We do have some groups you’re welcome to attend. Our Sunday service is smaller than most; many of our members go to other services closer to home, but we have a very large and growing group of home meetings, and we do have some support groups here at the building.

Celia smiled but Chris put his head down. He didn’t have to feign a headache; the crying was enough to give him near migraine. But he was almost glad for the pain since his lowered face hid the look of disappointment as he anticipated her next words.

“We do have a women’s meeting on Thursday’s but the luncheon isn’t restricted to just women and is open to all every other Saturday morning.” She smiled at Celia, who nodded politely. She welcomed the support but feared just as much as Chris what was going to be ‘offered’ to him.

“And Chris…we have a meeting…” She stopped suddenly as she saw him begin to shake slightly.

“I’m so sorry…this has been such a difficult morning for you. Honey, would you mind praying for Chris?”

“I’d be glad to.” He smiled once again and his eyes began to light up; as if this were the most important thing on earth. Chris sobbed harder, expecting the worst as the guilt and shame still held on like a thief.

“Dear God…you know this precious one’s heart. She has endured shame and scorn and God only knows what else. Her heart hasn’t merely been broken, but shattered. Take the pieces of her heart...” He paused as if he were searching for the words; waiting for the stage manager to mouth his next line.

Chris looked up, expecting to see Greg praying for Celia, but instead found the man gazing at him instead. The twinkle and light were still there, but were softened by tears that flowed off the man’s chin.

“Let her know you love her just as she is…that there may be some wrong things in her life like we all have, dear God, but that there’s nothing wrong with her. Wipe her tears, Lord. Let her know that you know her pain. Clear away the confusion and doubt and replace it with faith and clarity of mind. Let this precious couple know your love as you bring them closer together. Let …Celia.?” He paused to get her name right. She nodded.

“Let Celia know your peace and joy and have your mind as she supports….” He paused again.

“What was your name again?”

“Chris.” He said it softly, almost in embarrassment and apology. Greg continued his silence after Chris’ answer until he leaned closer.

“Would that be Christine?” The bard once said, 'What’s in a name? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet…'or something like that. In this case he would be wrong. Names…especially at this moment…names mattered.

“Christina…,” Celia said, her own sobs set aside only for the moment. Greg smiled through his tears and continued.

“Dear God…what a lovely name…after you…” He laughed softly at the irony. Despised and rejected; altogether sadly yet wonderfully linked in commonality with Christ.

“May Christina’s suffering bring about the woman in Christ you have meant her to be. Let her know exactly what you have in store for her as she continues this journey with Celia. We thank you for these precious ones. In Jesus’ name…Amen.”

Almost like a baptism, Chris died and was buried as the saying goes, and Christina rose out of the waters of love and care and acceptance to the newness of life. Where there were almost entirely tears of sadness and shame, those tears were now mingled with tears of joy; the first time in twenty-seven years. Chris, or rather, Christina would celebrate her forty-third birthday in two weeks. The church would throw a party for her as a nice surprise.

Coincidentally, the couple would celebrate their anniversary; their nineteenth, which the church celebrated as well. Christina Marie and Cecelia Infantino-Markam finally were home.

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Based on John 11:1-44, "The Death Of Lazarus, The Message

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The two boys stood behind a large man in the crowd; their view was obstructed by his girth. The older of the two was perched on a small boulder behind the man and peered over his shoulder.

“What’s happening? I can’t see a thing.” The smaller of the two called up to his brother.

“They’re on crosses… all of them…the two on the sides must have been thieves…maybe cheaters or even killers.” He laughed.

“Come on, Rueben…what’s going on?”

“The two are upside down. The one in the middle…The Roman just stabbed him with a spear and he…he’s quiet…” The younger boy tried to climb up on the rock but his brother pushed him back down, knocking him to the ground with a thud. The boy began to cry.

“Oh don’t be such a girl, Kilion…I hardly hit you. Oh…the Roman just shook his head. And everybody is yelling…’save yourself,’ or something like that. And his name…Jesse…Je….Yehoshua…”

“What…what’s his name,” Kilion called up, his voice in a panic.

“Yehoshua..yeah..that’s it…Yehoshua. Hey…didn’t you meet a man named that a few days ago.” Reuben teased his brother. The smaller boy tried to climb on the rock and his brother pushed him down once again.

“You’re such a girl Ki…what a baby!” He called after Kilion as the boy ran up the hill toward the crosses. Paying little heed, he ran right into a man standing next to three women. All of them were crying. He hadn’t seen another man cry since his father buried his mother.

“Oh, little girl,” the man said, making the same mistake many adults had been making since he was very young. “This is no place for a child.”

As the man said that, he turned and looked up at the man hanging on the cross in the center. The man was indeed the man Kilion had met days before. The one who had assured the boy that everything would be all right; that the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob had a plan for Kilion’s life. And now…those plans were smashed just as sure as if someone had put them in an alabaster jar and thrown them against the escarpment that lay mere feet away from where he stood.

The man looked at Kilion and smiled and then turned slightly and smiled at the man standing beside the boy.

“Here, little one; stand next to us.” It was almost an invitation, as if something good was going to take place instead of the horror that played out before the boy’s eyes.

“Come…it will be over soon.” One of the women pulled the boy close and embraced him; almost sheltering him while pointing to the scene before them. A flash of lightning split the sky while overhead he heard the roar of thunder. The crowd quieted as the man on the cross said almost in a whisper,

“There is nothing else to accomplish…it is finished.” And a moment later he was gone.

One of the women was standing beside the man next to Kilion. She stooped a bit and pulled his face gently toward hers.

“That’s my son…whatever he said he would do for you he will.” How foolish…even as she said the words the enormity of her grief overtook her faith, and she fell on the ground, weeping. Her voice was joined, not just by the other two women and the man, but many of the people in the crowd; their lament like that of a widow who appeals without hope to death to return her spouse.

But there was mocking…and laughter. Kilion looked around and watched as men and even some women smiled and pointed at the men on the crosses; their faces etched in an almost evil celebration. It was too much for him to handle. He pulled away from the man and ran back down the hill.

All of his hopes and dreams…his prayers had been daunted by a single moment in time. Whatever promises the man had made; whatever arrangements the man had bargained for with the God of the Universe died on the cross, and all of the boy’s hopes died with him.

“I know the plans I have for you,” the man had said softly, taking Kilion aside after a long discourse followed by even longer prayer and such. The boy was tired and scared that day, but the man’s voice and smile had put him as much at ease as he ever had known.

“They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.” The man had said. He told Kilion everything the boy had ever known…every hurt; every taunt; every disappointment. The mornings of frustrated grief after nights of prayer. When would his…when would her deliverance come? The reflection in the puddle on the ground or the pool or the stream that mocked the poor child; what was she? Who was she. Even her name. Who would ever name their child ‘weakling?’ Was it prophecy? An omen of doom to be ever in the wrong form; ever to be alone with no hope?

But the man had said, “plans for good and not for disaster, hadn’t he? A future? A hope. What hope did a little girl have when she was doomed in less than a year to stand before the congregation and say those words, ‘Today I am a man?’
 

 
Kilion wandered for hours….the hours turned into nightfall and daybreak…again and again until he realized he was standing in a field next to an orchard. The field backed up to a hill where it was laid open with a big hold like a cave. A tall, brightly lit man sat on top of a large stone next to the cave, talking to three women. Even at that distance, he recognized two of the women as two of those he had met at the horrible scene nights before.

The tall man held his arms open wide and he seemed to be smiling. He pointed and two of the women literally ran off up the bluff right past him and down a path toward the city gate, leaving the man alone with the woman he had met…the one who told him that things would be over. And then suddenly as if by magic, the man disappeared; leaving the woman alone. She looked lost and scared. Turning to leave, she nearly ran into another bright figure.

The second man stood nearly up to her, but held his hands out when she went to touch him. They talked for a few moments before she nodded and ran up the bluff past Kilion, following the trail her friends had taken only moments before. And the man turned and faced the boy; even at that distance some how he felt the man ...it couldn't be him, could it? He was speaking to Kilion.

“Believe.”

The boy grew excited. The man…was alive…somehow he was alive. He had healed and touched lives over and over. Maybe Kilion’s prayers would come true after all? He pulled his robe out from his neck and peered down, only to be disappointed. Nothing had changed. Nothing. The promises weren’t true. He would have a future, but it would be a sad and frightening existence. He didn’t plan to cry; he had cried every night and every morning for years. But cry he did. He fell to the ground and wept; feeling worse than ever; disappointed over the betrayal of a man…the faith in the man who had promised.
 

 

After that, it was a blur again. Somehow Kilion made it all the way back home, not even recalling how or how long it took to get there. It was almost mid-day when he walked into the house; finding his brother and his father holding while reclining at the table in prayer. His father jumped up and ran to his side.

“Oh, child, we were so worried.” He kissed the boy on the neck over and over, repeating some quiet blessing and thanks while squeezing him tightly. As he pulled back, he felt a tug at his robe.

“I’m so sorry, Ki…Abba and I talked. I should ask forgiveness, he said, and that’s what I’m doing. I was so mean to you…and with the man dying and all that. It was bad, and I’m so sorry.” Reuben had been crying; his tears nearly matching those of his father.

“I know, child. The man…it felt like when Ama died. It hurt so bad. I was in the crowd, but you ran before I could get to you.”

“He promised, Abba.” The boy protested. He couldn’t tell his father what the promise was.

“I know, child. I felt the same way when Ama…when she got sick I prayed and prayed, O dear Abba God…it was like he didn’t hear me. Believe me, child, I know.” Kilion felt ashamed; his prayers were selfish compared to those of his father’s. What right did he have? But it still hurt; like sitting at a table starving only to have the meal taken away at the last minute. Better he had never heard the man. Better still that he had never been born.

“Your mother had so much more faith than I. It was like she knew everything would be alright . Your mother was such a talker…She could talk about almost anything, but she talked the most about you and your brother. How there was …what did she call it…Well, she even quoted the prophet. Now I have trouble remembering what I said only a few days ago and here she is quoting the prophet. She made me remember it… Now how does that go?” Aaron turned to his older boy who smiled.

“Here, Abba…let me help. ‘For I know?’” The boy smiled.

“Oh yes, ‘For I know the plans I have for you,” says the LORD. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.’” He smiled at Kilion and the boy shook his head before bursting into tears.

“It will be alright, child. I know. You are special…not like other boys. Your mother and I talked about it.” Aaron hugged Kilion and stroked his hair.

“Your Ama would say, ‘Aaron, make sure you help Reuben with your work so he can grow up and be a good man and a good worker. He will build.” Reuben smiled when his father said ‘good man.’ For all the teasing he did to Kilion, he really was a good boy at heart.

“And you?” Aaron smiled.

“Ki…we’re going to live with Uncle Dov and Aunt Miriam! It’s going to be so much fun!”

“Move? But why. Abba…what did Ama say about me?” The boy looked into his father’s eyes and saw the presence of something he’d seen all along but only just then understood. His father had the heart of the Everlasting Father. The man smiled even as the tears streamed down his cheeks.

“Oh, she talked about you; how you would be such a help; she didn’t know, but now you will help your Aunt Miriam and your Cousin Rebekka and your Cousin Avigail” He smiled and winked at Reuben.

“We’re leaving tomorrow. Abba has sold his business to Uncle Shimon and we have enough to move to Nain and live there with Uncle Dov.”

“But what about me, Abba? What did Ama say?”

“Well, child, we will leave tomorrow before mid-day. Aaron ben Yamin will go to live with his brother and his brother’s wife and children. Reuben ben Aaron will leave along with his brother Kilion. But when we arrive? Aaron ben Yamin will join his brother Dov and his brother’s son Judah in business making chairs and tables and nice things with his son Reuben?

“And me, Abba?” The boy put his head down, feeling left out and defeated until his father stepped close and hugged him once again. He gently lifted the child’s head with his hand and said finally,

“Miriam will have so much more help and a blessing to her and her daughters when their cousin Ruth comes to live with them.

“Ruth?” The boy…the child…the girl finally asked, her head down once again.

“Yes, blessed daughter; Ruth.”
 

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The Mother's Love
from the Motion Picture Soundtrack
of Ben Hur
composed by Miklos Rozsa
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-tv26qjow1M

Andrea’s Letter to Theristea and the Church in Sircusa*

Andrea, a daughter of God and a servant of our Lord, Benjamin and Rachael, our children, Adara, our new daughter in the Lord, and Gaius Marcus, formerly a slave of Rome and now my adopted son and a bond servant of Christ;

To Theristea, our dearly beloved and sister-laborer,

To Abithia and Dorcas, fellow servants and daughters of both mine and yours,

Grace and Peace to you, as is our custom, may He shine his face upon you.

I thank God for all of you, as do they all; in every good thing we rejoice because of the love you gave to us when we were yet in Siracusa.

And we have such joy us because of the faith and love you have shown; which shine out, as it says, like lights in the Universe.

We suffer much discomfort, but it is for the Gospel we suffer, and not for our own sake, so that we may bring life to those who live without hope. I, who am not worthy to untie His sandal, serve yet because of the power of grace in my life as a daughter of Christ, and his grace upon Benjamin, Rachael, Adara, and Gaius also, not only as my children, but also as children of the Living God.

Since your heart has been open and welcome in the Lord, it is fitting to return to you Adara and Gaius, both of whom have served me well, and have given me much joy.

I fear that they will endure much hardship if they remain with me in Hiberina. May our God travel with them and bring them safely to Sicilia. I know you will welcome them as you have welcomed me, your sister and fellow servant into the family of God.

I appeal to you to as a fellow servant; dear one, see to the care of Adara. She means much to me, but even more to the Most High; once she was considered weak and feeble of heart and slow speech, but she is now a woman of inner strength and beauty; take her unto yourself as you would receive me; that is, my own heart. Though her speech remains slow, she speaks with the wisdom of angels; low and humble of heart but with the love and compassion that extends to all, giving healing and comfort to all whom she touches, both beautiful and noble.

There were those in Rome who came against her; claiming themselves to be wise. They became instead fools as they held onto false notions and piety while missing the true meaning of Christ’s sacrifice. I, myself, suffered much under them and yet I count it all privilege that I may serve better and love deeper. Adara was born, as it says in the Gospels, that the ever present grace of God in her life would lead many to life. I count any righteousness gained as loss that I might serve him. This girl who returns to you makes me weep in shame at her example of love and forgiveness. As it says in a way elsewhere, I shall follow her as she follows Christ.

And Gaius also; receive him as my son and fellow heir of the kingdom; may he serve the Lord in your service as well as in the service of husband to his new wife; Adara and he are like my own children. Gaius follows the word that implores to love his wife as Christ loves the church. Even as she gives strength to others, he gives strength to her, and the Lord gives strength to them both. They have served the Lord by loving all they have met with the compassion of God. Having received mercy, they both extend mercy to all and demonstrate the grace of God in their walk with him and each other.

Let not my daughter’s beginnings stay any hand from extending fellowship; she is a woman of love and peace if perhaps not in form. I share much in that regard, and well you know the pain and sadness we both face while apart. I know you will encourage those of the church to receive her as they would receive any daughter of ours. May the Lord bless you for your mercy and compassion to them. I seek no favor for I am but a servant myself, and they owe me nothing other than the love of God, which I pray they receive in their own lives to overflowing. Whatever they may give to these two, let them give it as unto the Lord, and not as unto men or women.

Of Adara, send word to her brother Simon also; he served me well as he served the Lord, and he has worried for her safety and health. Give him and all who fellowship in your house my love and extend to them the Love of Christ.

To Mark, who works with you; let your heart not be troubled. Whatever has gone before is past, and God is not through with you yet. Our brother Barnabbas, whom you know well, needs help else where, and it is time to take up once again your calling. Be not discouraged, but rather be encouraged in the Lord.

To Mary and Leah, who serve in Siracusa; be encouraged. Do not let anyone look down at you because you are women. You share a name with several who have gone before you who have shown the love of God in their lives to the benefit of others. Teach when you can and where you can; your callings are from God and not a mere man. Lead as you are led of the spirit to do good works and teach others the good news by the example of your love for one another.

I write with my own hand in the spirit of love and sacrifice, even as I know you, dear Theristea, may receive it in the same spirit. Benjamin and Rachael, our children, send their greetings to you, their mother, and to their sisters Abithia and Dorcas, to whom I write; may we see each other soon, dearest daughters. To Theristea, I send but this one greeting; My heart to yours, dear one.

May the love of God and His peace be upon your house. Amen.

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*see also Adara’s Story — Blessed Hearts series by Andrea DiMaggio