Page 94 of Wish You Faith

She took off her sunglasses and checked for messages on her phone. Just in case there was something from work that she had to deal with.

Nope. Nothing. No work.

It was past two o’clock, but Mom was still upstairs in the condo, getting ready. She wanted to put on some makeup and look decent. She was looking for the pearls that Dad had bought her so many years ago. Rosie didn’t ask Mom why she would need to dress up to play a game of mahjong at the SSLR club house. Mom’s life had been extended by the grace of God, and she should enjoy life while she still had it. If she wanted to wear pearls, then by all means.

Rosie had come downstairs to have some time to herself. Second day of her staycation, and already she was looking for quiet time. Mom liked to leave the TV on all day long—in case she missed any breaking news or must-see weather reports.

As for Rosie, she had just come off a busy Christmas season at work. Even though she had vacation and plenty of overtime, she decided to take only three days off the first week of January. She’d be back at work on Monday, when Lorenzo and his wife would be in the Caribbean for their seven-day wedding anniversary cruise.

Her first day off had been filled with spending time with Mom doing the usual things like groceries and baking. Then they went to church for the Wednesday night evening service, where Rosie saw Lorenzo exchange some sharp remarks with his wife, Tabitha, outside the riverboat. Rosie didn’t want to interfere in their marital conflict, but she prayed for them silently. They must’ve gotten over it because they walked to church hand in hand afterwards.

Rosie wondered whether she could easily reconcile with Evan if they quarreled like that in public. At church, no less. It would have to be something that aggrieved her if she exploded in front of strangers. She wouldn’t, but she wondered if Evan could be loud like that.

No matter. Now that Lorenzo and Tabitha had popped into her mind again, one day later, Rosie decided she had to pray for them. She closed her eyes and realized she had no idea how to pray for two married people. Having never been married herself, what basis would her prayer be founded on?

What about on the basis of God’s sovereignty over Christian marriages?

Okay. She could start from there. She prayed for God’s perfect will for Lorenzo and Tabitha. She knew that they had been trying to have another baby, so she lifted that up to the Lord. If God wanted them to have another child, then He would make it happen. After all, Psalm 127:3 said that children were gifts from God.

Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord,

The fruit of the womb is a reward.

Rosie prayed, being fully aware that sometimes God did not gift certain people children. Mom and Dad wanted more kids, but God had only given the Hamilton house all of one child. After Rosie, Mom hadn’t conceived again. They accepted what God had and hadn’t given, and blessed His name anyway.

Realizing now that she did know how to pray for Lorenzo and Tabitha, Rosie thanked God and finished her silent prayer.

When she opened her eyes, she was startled to see a small woman only slightly taller than the pub table staring right at her from across the table. The table was about three or four feet tall, so that would put the woman at around five feet.

The afternoon sun cast a halo around her dark brown hair, combed neatly and cut so precisely. Even the gentle wind couldn’t mess up that hairdo.

Rosie couldn’t guess her age, but she looked younger than Mom. Well, many people looked younger than Mom, especially after her chemotherapy.

The woman wasn’t alone. Flanking her, and taller than her, was a woman half her age. She was wearing black sunglasses and red lipstick.

“Your eyes. Wow.” It was the woman’s opening words. “Are you wearing contacts?”

“Uh...” Rosie had talked to strangers at the tree farm, but usually it was about which Christmas trees would fit best in their living room. Other than that, she’d rather talk to plants than to people. Lorenzo was the extrovert and dealt with the marketing aspects of the Christmastown Tree Farm. Rosie would prefer to work in the greenhouse or in her office.

“Yes or no?” The woman asked again. “Simple question.”

“No contacts.”

“Natural eye color. So gray. Very unusual.” The woman tried to get up on the barstool, and didn’t want any help from her companion.

After she sat down without asking Rosie if she could or not, Rosie realized that this might be one of those divine appointments that Pastor Flores often spoke about at church. Someone unexpected had shown up.

The woman was still staring at Rosie.

It was a game of who would blink first.

Rosie looked away.

“So gray. You look like anime,” the woman added.

Now Rosie heard a faint accent. She couldn’t pinpoint where the woman was from.

“My father has gray eyes,” Rosie said.

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