Читать книгу Shadows of the Cross - Craig Cashwell - Страница 5

Samantha grew up in a Christian home with all the comforts any girl could hope for, but she continually felt out of place. She believed she was not as pretty, smart, or popular as her older sister. As much as she wanted to fit in with the crowd, her adolescent years were filled with anguish.

After high school graduation, her restless heart and need to "fit in" could no longer be contained and she announced to her parents that she was moving out. Begrudgingly, her father relinquished the savings account meant for her college education and allowed her to go out into the world "to find herself."

As she bought her train ticket to New York City, her heart pounded with excitement. She was ready to leave behind the days of small-town quietness and her small home church congregation where the hymns sung had become monotonous and the people had become too common for her pleasure. Samantha wanted to see the world, not be stuck in the same ordinary routine.

As the train pulled into "the Big Apple" her wide eyes were filled with anticipation of the good times yet to come. Her first stop was a restaurant/bar filled with loud music, drinking, and the sound of people laughing, talking, and dancing. In her mind, she congratulated herself, "I have arrived." Soon, she made friends with some women at the bar who offered Samantha her first alcoholic drink. The drink gave her instant comfort. In her new circle of friends, she found acceptance and the man they introduced her to became her first lover.

Weekly, her father wrote to her. His letters contained news from home, prayers for her safety, and words of love and appeals to "come home when you can." Home? She was home. Life was good. Making living arrangements was easier than she thought it would be. She rented a room above the bar she frequented. Making money was easy when all she had to do was dance, laugh with the patrons, and, on occasion, give herself away to the desires of the paying guest.

But what to tell her family?

Of course, this life was not one they could understand or appreciate. So, she created an imaginary world. In this life, she was an administrative assistant working at a large corporation on Fifth Avenue. She had met a friend and she became her roommate. There was a church around the corner that she attended every Sunday. At this time, her letters back to her dad were upbeat, peaceful, and confident. And her double life began.

One day, as she awoke from a drunken sleep, she turned over in bed to find her lover gone. Standing at the mirror, she discovered that makeup could not cover the bruises left from the fight the night before. Her nails and teeth were becoming dark and yellow from the nicotine and red wine. No longer recognizing the woman returning her gaze in the mirror, she cried. Through her tears, she glimpsed the small blue box decorated in trinkets and charms from her childhood underneath her bed, the box filled with her father's letters. Sinking into her cushioned chair, she reread his words. Every letter contained the same basic news from home, including comments from her youth director asking about her and her church friends sending their love and prayers. Each letter ended with "Baby, I love you. Come home when you can." Her sobs became uncontrollable as reality began to sink into her soul. Her new life was out of control and unmanageable.

As Samantha began packing her bags, she noticed how much weight she had lost. The clothes she arrived with no longer fit and her new clothes were much too slinky and tight to wear in her small town. Finding a few things to fit into one small bag, she walked out of this life and hoped to return to the familiarity of her family and friends.

At the train depot, she called her home phone number. Three attempts and each time, no answer. The last call she made, she left a message: "Daddy, I want to come home. I have messed up my life. I have no money left and my heart, mind, and soul are in such a dark place. I understand if you are ashamed of me and do not want me to return in this shape and, if so, I will continue on until I can find other help. I now understand that it is the prayers of you and the church that have brought me back to some kind of sanity. For that I am eternally grateful."

In quiet despair, she allowed the rhythm of the train to rock her to sleep. She awakened as the train pulled into the depot she had walked through two years ago. Would anyone be there to receive her? And if so, would they notice her weight loss, unclean hair, and nicotine-stained fingers? Would she be able to withstand the shame and the guilt?

Suddenly, through the crowd, she saw her dad standing with his arms open wide and his eyes filled with tears. Racing off the train, she fell into his arms and wept. "Daddy, Daddy, I am so sorry." Looking deep into her eyes, he held her by the shoulders and said, "No need to apologize, my precious child. Forgiveness was given long before you left. Now let's hurry, you have a reception at the church waiting for you. People have been preparing for your return. Welcome home, sweetheart."

Walking into the church, Samantha could hear the choir rehearsing for the Sunday morning service. Her heart opened as she listened to "Amazing Grace"; the familiar hymn now had comforting sentiment. Tears flowed again. Never had she felt the words of the song as strongly as she did that day. In her heart, the words rang true...

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound

that saved a wretch like me.

I once was lost, but now am found,

was blind, but now I see.