last minute Christmas shopping
done, she felt alone. What was
it her mother had always told
her? God is always with you,
Hope, even when you feel alone
and unloved. Well, that was
certainly her right now, alone
and unloved. If only her mother
were right about God. Hope
had grown up believing in God
with childlike faith. But since
her mom’s death, she wasn’t so
sure if God even existed. How
can there be a loving God out
there that lets people die? If
there really is a God, where is He
now? The questions continued
to plague her as they had for the
past three years.
Hope climbed into her car and
started the ignition. Though she
felt the warmth of the heater in
her face, it did nothing to warm
her cold, hard heart. She left
behind the busyness of town and
hit the highway she knew better
than any other road. Within
minutes, she was pulling up in
front of the house she and her
mother had lived in when she
was alive. Hope hadn’t gathered
the courage to sell it, and she
wondered if she ever would. It
had always just been Hope and
her mom; her father had left
when Hope was young, and her
mother never remarried or had
any other children. Hope was
nineteen when her mom was
first diagnosed with cancer. She
had beaten it that time, but a year
later she found another lump on
her side. This time, there was
nothing anyone could do.
Shivering, Hope unlocked the
front door and slipped inside.
Even after all this time, the
house was still the same as her
mother had left it; same living
room arrangement, same drapes
on the windows, same photos
lining the mantel. It even smelled
like her perfume, a sweet and
rich fragrance that hung over
the entire house. Hope tried not
to breathe in too deeply as she
trudged up the stairs. In her
mother’s room, she felt a sob
work its way up her throat and
had to choke it back. Still, the
tears came as she sank onto the
bed, fingering the patchwork
comforter. I’m only as far away as
your heart; her mother had told
her before she died, her voice a
faint whisper as she held Hope’s
hand. Do you believe that, Hope?
Hope had nodded, the tears
rolling down her cheeks much
as they did now, unbidden. She
stood and was about to leave
the room when she noticed
something stuck between the
pages of her mother’s Bible on
the nightstand. Before she could
stop herself, Hope reached for
the Book and flipped it open
to where the bookmark was.
Except it wasn’t a bookmark,
she saw now, pulling it out
and flipping it over. It was an
envelope, and on the front in her
mother’s flowing script were the
words To Hope.
“What’s this?” Hope whispered.
She slid her finger beneath the
flap of the envelope and pulled
out a sheet of paper. The date
printed at the top of the page read
December 24, the day before her
mom died. Hope sank onto the
bed again and began reading:
My dearest Hope,
If you are reading this, then I have
already gone to Heaven. Don’t
cry now, Hope. I’m happy there,
happier than I ever could be here
on earth. I want to tell you how
much I love you, my dear one.
You’re the sunshine in my life,
and you always have been since
the day you were born. I was so
young when I had you, Hope, but I
fell in love the first time I held you
in my arms. Do you know why I
named you Hope? I had always
loved the name, but it was then
when I was holding you that I first
felt full of hope. No matter what
the future held, I had my little girl,
my precious Hope. You were so
9
happy all the time, full of hugs and
giggles. I remember one occasion
when you were very young, about
three years old. I asked who
loved you and you told me, “Two
people, Mamma. You and Jesus.”
Oh, I remember that day as if it
were yesterday. You always knew
how to make me laugh and cry. I
love you, Hope, and so does Jesus.
Never forget that. No matter how
old you get, you’ll always be my
little girl. Never stop believing, no
matter how dark life may seem.
God is with you, and He loves you.
Remember, my precious, who you
are full of Hope.
Love always,
Mamma
The tears continued to flow even
when she finished reading and
dropped the letter into her lap.
Covering her face, she wept the
way she hadn’t in three years
not as much from her loss as
from the realization that her
mother was, once again, right.
God did love her, no matter how
much it seemed otherwise, and
He was with her. She knew that
as clearly as if God Himself had
stepped in and wrapped His
arms around her. Let me heal
your broken heart, my child. I
know the pain you are going
through, and I want to help you
if you’ll only let me.
Hope raised her eyes. Her
mother’s words came back to
her: “Remember who you are full
of Hope. Remember who you are”
“Yes,” she whispered. Looking
past her darkness, she could see
a light at the end of the tunnel,
beckoning her closer and closer,
and for the first time in years,
she felt full of hope.
I am 18 years old and an aspiring
writer. I have been writing since
I was very young and I absolutely
love it. I have a strong urge to go
into Christian fiction one day in
the near future.
DOZ Magazine | November 2018