Hope Rekindled by Tracie Peterson

her. He was determined. There would be a way to make all of this work. Of that, he was confident. God would surely show him the answer.

 
    E aster weekend had been a stormy one, but the Vandermarks didn’t let that stop their celebration of the resurrection. As they gathered for dinner after Sunday services, Deborah could only smile at the animated conversations around the table. Mother had invited Mr. and Mrs. Perkins, along with daughters Annabeth and Maybelle, as well as Pastor Shattuck and Mara to join them. The house was overflowing with glad hearts and good will.
    Deborah found the atmosphere helpful for letting go of her worry about Christopher. She’d heard nothing from him since that first telegram. She would just have to be patient. As her mother always said, “God will show you the answer in His good time.”
    “This is a feast fit for a king,” Arjan told Deborah’s mother and kissed her check.
    Deborah could see the joy her mother took in his praise. She was so glad that her mother had married again. Their marriage had made the family whole again, and Deborah knew that her father smiled down approval from heaven.
    “These are the best creamed peas and potatoes I’ve ever had,” Zed announced.
    Mrs. Perkins smiled at Deborah’s mother. “I never had much luck with them. I always manage to get the sauce too thick or too thin.”
    “Sissy made these. She can show you her tricks,” Mother offered, nodding toward the woman who sat beside Deborah.
    “I shore can, Miz Perkins. Ain’t no problem. No problem at all.”
    Rachel Perkins nodded. “And you can also teach me how you made those wonderful hot cross buns. I’ve never had anything that tasted so good—especially slathered in butter. I haven’t had decent butter or yeast bread in weeks.”
    “Well, Lizzie churned quite a bit of butter last week,” Mother said. “I’ll send some home with you when you go.”
    “That would be wonderful.” Mrs. Perkins cast a glance at her two daughters. “Perhaps Lizzie can share her secrets with you.”
    Annabeth frowned. “I hate churning. I’d rather buy butter ready-made.”
    Maybelle nodded. “In Houston, they have stores that carry all sorts of foods, ready for the eating.”
    “Seems a waste of money to me,” their father said. “If a person can make their own, why pay someone else to do it for them?”
    “Because sometimes the product is much better than anything you can make yourself,” Maybelle declared.
    “That has not been my experience,” Pastor Shattuck threw in. “I cannot tell you how much more I appreciate a homemade meal, prepared by loving hands—just like this. Why, I’ve never had food this good from any restaurant or packaged item.”
    Maybelle sulked but said nothing. Deborah felt sorry for her. No doubt the sisters were still encouraging their parents to move. Mother said that Mrs. Perkins was beside herself from their nagging.
    Annie let out a howl of protest as Rutger reached over to take a portion of her bread. She slapped at him, but her brother was too quick. He snagged the food and yanked his arm back just before her hand slapped the table. This caused her to cry all the louder.
    Lizzie took the bread from Rutger and handed it back to Annie. “Now, Son, you need to learn to leave other people’s food alone.” The boy looked up at her with a pout. Lizzie ignored it and buttered another piece of bread for him. She handed it to Rutger and gave him a pat on the head. “Now you have your own.”
    Mara laughed. “I used to fight with my brother for food. He was older and ate everything that wasn’t nailed down. Aaron considered my plate free range.”
    Pastor Shattuck smiled. “I remember your grandmother writing to tell me of his voracious appetite.”
    The conversation moved to comments and stories of other childhood pranks and games. Deborah was glad no one seemed to notice how quiet she was. She truly was doing her best to just enjoy the day and the company of