A Promise Kept by Robin Lee Hatcher Page A

the silence at long last. “She had dementia. It was hard to watch her fail that way. But I’ve never known the Lord to be so close as He was in those years. I’m thankful to Him for that dark valley of testing because it brought me closer to our Savior.”
    Others continued in that vein, but Allison no longer listened. Am I thankful for the hard things and disappointments that have happened in my life? The question made her uncomfortable—because she wanted to answer in the affirmative but she couldn’t.

Allison
    The house felt empty, almost abandoned, after Meredith drove back to Boise on Sunday afternoon. After four days and three nights with her daughter’s constant company, Allison wasn’t sure what to do with herself in the midst of the silence. She thought about starting another of her aunt’s journals. Or she could work on her latest scrapbook of old photographs. Neither choice beckoned to her.
    With a mug of decaf in hand, she settled at last into a favorite chair in the living room and stared at the flames in the fireplace. Before she could take her first sip of coffee, the telephone rang. The call was from Susan.
    “I thought you’d be feeling at loose ends with Meredith gone again,” her friend said after they’d greeted each other.
    “You know me well.”
    “Friday will be here before you know it.”
    “Maybe that’s the real problem. January will be here before I know it too, and Meredith will go back to Texas.”
    “Let tomorrow take care of itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”
    She nodded, as if Susan could see her. Her friend was offering good—and scriptural—advice. If only knowing and doing were the same thing.
    Susan must have decided it was time to change the subjectbefore Allison found herself in tears. “Have you had time to start reading our book for December’s book club?”
    “Not yet. I’m not sure I’m up for something that takes deep thought. I usually enjoy biographies and memoirs, but I don’t know about this one. It’s going to be so sad. I can tell from the back cover blurb. A humorous novel would have suited me better.”
    “You’ll get your turn to pick what you like.”
    “I know. But to tell you the truth, I’d rather read Aunt Emma’s journals. I love getting a glimpse into her life when she was a teenager. Things were so different back then, and yet they were a lot the same. Times change but people don’t. Not really.”
    “Maybe you should think about publishing Emma’s journals.”
    “All of them?”
    Susan laughed. “Of course not. But I’ll bet you could pick and choose from the entries. Just the right ones to let readers catch a glimpse of her life. The rest of the book could be of your favorite photographs she took. You could include some of her more famous ones and then some of the more obscure.”
    “Interesting thought.”
    “It’s more than interesting. It’s a good idea. A really good idea. You should do it.”
    “Okay. Okay. I promise to think about it. I’ve got a lot of journals to read before I’ll know if there’s anything I could do with them.”
    “You be sure you do think about it. Hey, listen. I’ve got to run. Ned’s calling me.”
    “Okay. Talk to you later.”
    “Later,” Susan echoed. Then the connection was gone.
    Allison’s coffee had grown cold while she talked to her friend. She carried the mug into the kitchen and put it in the microwave for thirty seconds.
    Publish a book about her aunt? It was a rather outlandish idea. Allison wasn’t a writer by any stretch of the imagination. Although she had to admit, reading Aunt Emma’s journals had given her the desire to keep one of her own. Maybe now would be a good time to make that first entry.
    She went into the bedroom, retrieved her Bible along with some highlighters, a pen, and a spiral-bound journal she’d recently purchased, and carried everything to the kitchen table.
    But where to begin?
    She took a sip of coffee from her mug, opened the