April 23, 2020
Continued from Chapter 7: The Letter
Beth arrived at the grandmother’s house just in time to see the ambulance doors close. Two police officers standing under an apple tree with heads bowed crossed themselves.
And then nodding to Beth, quietly departed.
Stunned but pleased to see an attractive middle-aged woman wearing a grey cardigan exit the house, Beth noticed she held the old woman’s rosary in one hand, and in the other—a letter.
Walking towards Beth with a smile, “My mother wanted you to have this.”
My story is now ending and yours is just beginning. Don’t give up on love, but do be cautious! Keep your sword at hand at all times while allowing love to unfold naturally.
Like the rose who has sharp thorns which may prick your finger, she also heals with the softness of her petals…
My daughter, Catherine is an excellent storyteller and well trained.
Goodbye, my dear.
May the Holy Spirit guide and hold you close.
Beth looked into Catherine’s eyes and saw years of love and compassion well up and spill over with a smile and a brush of her hand, “Shall we go inside and have a cup a tea?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Inside the familiar parlor, the two women settled into comfortable old chairs; each feeling gratitude infuse with the fragrance of roses and sandalwood rising with their spirits and then—knock knock knock on the door.
Beth’s face lit up, “Andrew–”