Dana's Valley Read online

  I swallowed back my response. I wished I could tell Dad that I sometimes blamed Grandpa for all of the changes. But I could never say that out loud. Even if I had to keep that secret, though, I felt so much better just sitting with Dad right now, and feeling loved.

  “Erin, I’ve been thinking about Psalm Twenty-three for some time now. You know it. It starts, ‘The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.’ This is a little bit of a ‘valley of shadow’ for us right now. It’s so encouraging to remember that we never go through those valleys alone. That God always goes through with us.” Then he smiled. “And the truth is, we have to admit that this particular valley is not so deep. You and I in our lives will probably need to face much darker times than these. In fact, this is more like simple growing pains. I think we’d all be able to enjoy the idea of building a house if it hadn’t followed so quickly on the heels of Grandpa’s passing away. Your mom and I have dreamed about doing this for years.”

  “You have?” No one had ever mentioned that to me.

  “Sure. That’s one of the reasons we’ve been so careful with our money. We knew we couldn’t live here forever.”

  My mind was working to absorb the thought. Maybe this wasn’t Grandpa’s fault after all. That would be a huge relief. I knew there was another question I needed to ask. It had plagued me, along with those other dark feelings about God.

  “But, Daddy, why do we have to have those valleys at all? I mean, if God can heal blind people and make the winds stop and all that, why does He let bad things happen to us?”

  He was quiet for a long time. “That’s a good question, Erin. It’s a question that lots of adults ask too. And I don’t know how well I can answer it, but I’ll tell you what I think.

  “I think there are many reasons why God allows unpleasant things to happen—or maybe it’s better to say there are lots of ways He uses the difficult things to bring good in our lives. Sometimes it’s to make our faith stronger. So we’ll believe that God can help us in the really hard times because we’ve already seen Him at work. It’s one thing to read the Bible and learn that God calmed a storm; it’s another thing to know that He’s calmed a storm—that He’s solved a serious problem—in our own lives.

  “Then again, sometimes it’s to call us back because we’ve begun to let other things be more important than God in our hearts.

  “And I would have to say that sometimes it’s just because that’s the way our world works. Adam and Eve sinned. And we sin. And the guy living next door sins. And the lady on the other side of the city sins. Every one of us does things that displease God. And all that sin just makes life painful sometimes. God didn’t plan our world to be painful. What we see are just the side effects of all that sin. Dying. Struggling to make ends meet. Feeling unloved. Even most of our own anger and frustration. If we really understood, we’d see that most of it comes from sin.”

  I could hear Corey’s footsteps coming up from the basement, and I knew I didn’t have much time left. “Do you think God still punishes people like He did the Israelites in the Bible?”

  He paused, a puzzled expression in his eyes. “Yes … I guess I do. But I’m very sure that if and when He does, it’s out of love. I know it would only be done to get our attention and save us from the disaster we’d face if we kept going the direction we were headed.”

  Daddy’s arm tightened around my shoulders. “But, Erin—sometimes it isn’t about us at all.”

  I frowned.

  “It’s because someone else needs to see God at work. In our lives. How He helps us to handle difficult things. That is one of the marks of a Christian and is often the reason that another person realizes God is who He claims to be. When we have a strength that isn’t our own to draw on—a peace even in the bad times—it’s a wonderful testi~mony to others of what God can do for those who love Him.” I thought I was beginning to see, but before I could even nod to agree with Daddy, Corey burst in upon us.

  “I got ’em, Daddy. I got the strings. And just look at all the colors!”

  I slipped off Dad’s lap. “I think I’ll go finish my homework.”

  “Erin.” His eyes met mine and asked me to listen just a moment more. “The most important thing to remember is that God loves you. I know you’ve heard that all your life. But it’s really an amazing thing, honey. And God never tries to hurt us. He always works for our good. That’s a promise.”

  “Okay,” I whispered, trying a wobbly smile before I turned away. It didn’t all make sense. But I was willing to believe my dad knew what he was talking about.

  There was something mysterious in the air. Dana and I could feel it from the moment we walked into the house after school. There was something about the way Mom was acting. So we decided to hang around in the kitchen and see if we could pick up any clues. She wasn’t telling, though. She just chatted as usual while she moved about, making fried chicken for supper. She did tell us that Grandma had gone out for supper with a friend.

  When Daddy got home, she met him at the door and plunked a kiss on his cheek. He looked surprised but just grinned and said, his eyes twinkling, “I guess you missed me today.”

  They both laughed. Mom stood there smiling into his eyes.

  “What’s up? You look like the cat that just swallowed the canary.”

  “I thought we’d picnic tonight.”

  “Picnic? It’s way too cold! I admit we’ve had a warm spell, but it’s still officially winter, you know.”

  “We could eat in the van. I’m almost done packing it.”

  I looked at Dana and she looked back, but neither of us could offer a thing about what was going on. She whispered, “Do you think we’ll be invited?”

  I just shrugged. At least Mom had made plenty of chicken.

  But when we all were immediately hustled into action, I knew we were in on it—whatever it was. Dana stayed with Mom to help finish with the picnic, I scooted Corey up to the bedroom to hurry him into playclothes, and Brett was sent to get the well-used picnic basket from the attic. None of it made sense, but we followed directions anyway and grabbed our jackets before heading to the garage.

  “Where to?” Dad eyed Mom across the front seat. He was thoroughly enjoying the suspense.

  Mom was too. “Just drive. I’ll let you know.”

  Mom’s fried chicken was making my mouth water even before we’d left the driveway. I sure hoped she’d let us dive in soon. Dana, who shared the middle bench seat with Corey, was put in charge of distributing our picnic from the basket at her feet. She served Mom and Dad first, then got Corey set up with a plate, and finally passed food back to Brett and me, who were seated in the back. We settled back with a favorite supper and a trip to—where?

  Mom directed the car through town and then out into the country. We shot past fields and little farmhouses for a while before coming over a hill and finding a few houses scattered around a little valley. It looked like a miniature town. Mom’s instructions took us down a side street in the middle of it. Then the side street became an old lane that ended in a patch of woods just beyond the last cluster of houses. There was a “For Sale” sign tacked to an old fence post.

  Dad’s face lost some of its enthusiasm. But Mom just opened her door and called everyone to follow, reminding us to toss our paper plates and napkins into the trash bag as we climbed out. We lost no time jumping from the van and scurrying toward the sign. We all understood immediately what she was thinking. We had never explored properties outside a regular neighborhood before this.

  “Why don’t you kids take a walk down that path? See the clearing over there? Take a few minutes to look around, will you?” Mom instructed. Dad and Mom followed behind us at a distance. She had slipped her hand into his, and they were talking in low voices.

  Corey, beside himself with excitement, scampered through the trees, exclaiming at each early bird he noticed. Apparently they had been studying birds at school, and he was setting out to become the expert. Dana dutifully followed him. I moved
around with Brett more systematically, wanting an overview of the property.

  The street side was thick with trees. A jumble of bare branches stretched up to form a tangled web above us, and the air smelled wet and woodsy. There were still mounds of snow in places where the sun hadn’t been able to reach, but we tramped forward as if we were frontier explorers. It was wonderful.

  Once we were through the trees, we could see we were on a hill that sloped down from the road. We knew that somewhere behind us the property line stopped, because we could make out the stubbled stalks of a cornfield. A wonderful view stretched on to where there had to be a river. A line of trees meandered away to the west.

  To the south, Brett pointed out, there was another cluster of trees and a big house tucked into it, looking as if it had been built recently and the grass hadn’t been planted yet. To the north, there was a steeper slope that stretched downward to a sprawling assortment of farm buildings. We weren’t quite sure what the shapes were that dotted the field, but they seemed like they might be cattle or sheep.

  Brett looked back over his shoulder at me. “We could build a ramp. For skateboards. Out here we could build an awesome ramp. I could never build one in town. But I’ll bet Dad’ll let me build here. Just imagine how big we could make it.”

  I was still wondering how the conversation between Mom and Dad was going. I didn’t want to make too many plans until I saw how that turned out. Actually, I didn’t see Dad as a country dweller.

  Just then Mom and Dad emerged from the wooded area and joined us on the hillside. It appeared she’d been able to talk him into walking around with her. They stood looking out over the valley together and talking quietly.

  “I like the view so much,” Dana enthused. “It’s like a picture. Where would we build the house?”

  Dad was the one who answered. “It is a nice property. There’s no question about that. A person could clear a few of the trees up near the road for a lane and put the house back here where it looks down this hill.” He seemed to be thinking things through as he spoke. “I suppose a well would be necessary. Or maybe the housing development has water out here. But there would be the added cost of bringing in the utilities. In a neighborhood, that would already be included in the lot price. I wonder how much that would run.”

  “We could ask John and Nancy Kelly,” Mom pointed out. “They just built their home a few years ago. It might be unreasonable to pay that extra, but it does seem that you’d get a nice location for your effort.” The two had gone back to talking only to each other.

  “Well, there’s no denying that the location is nice. But I think it’s also more costly to build out here and harder to sell. I’ll have to check around and see how other homes compare.”

  “But if the money from Dad’s estate can cover the added expense of the land, it shouldn’t cost us any more than what we’d planned.” Mom was trying hard not to sound as if she were pressing him, but we could tell where her heart was.

  I listened quietly, trying to decide if I liked the idea of country living.

  “Possibly,” I heard Dad say.

  “I know that it’s farther from school and friends, but—” Dad interrupted. “That’s another thing we’d have to check on, Angie. I’m not sure it would be the same school system.”

  Dana, Brett, and I froze. Mom looked thoughtful. They had mentioned once or twice that we might have to change schools if we couldn’t find a lot close enough, but we had each held out hope that it wouldn’t happen.

  “Where would we go to school?” I knew Dana was working hard to keep her voice under control.

  Mom and Dad suddenly seemed aware that we were listening. Dad sounded cautious as he answered, “I’m not sure. This little town is much too small to have its own school, so maybe there’s a bus that comes out here to take you back to your school. I’m just not sure. It would be another thing we’d have to check.”

  “Well, anyway,” Mom concluded the discussion brightly, “we’ve enjoyed our first picnic of the year and dreamed a little dream. Maybe that’s all that will come of this, but I’ve enjoyed myself. Anybody else had a nice time?”

  “It was great!” Corey’s exuberance hadn’t ebbed.

  We wandered back through the trees and climbed into the van, avoiding the topic of the acreage. It wasn’t until days later that we kids managed to overhear more as our parents gathered information. The land behind the neighboring house would soon be developed, and many new homes added. So the lane from the housing development would become a paved road. The field behind the land we’d looked at would stay as it was. Dad said it would help the resale of any house built on that land to have the subdivision near it. That was one point in favor of the land. On the other hand, it might be some time before construction there would begin, and we probably would have to watch it being developed over the next five to ten years. That might be unsightly.

  The biggest drawback to the property came when it was confirmed that the school system would be different. Children in that area were bused in the opposite direction from our town. And in my mind, that was the most difficult obstacle to overcome. Dad said we’d need to pray about it for a while, but the real estate agent was saying we didn’t have long to decide. I hoped God would speak quickly. My own feelings were torn. I had seen Corey nearly burst with excitement every time he described the acreage, and I could picture him living there. The vivid image drew me. Even Brett had become excited about the possibility of living “out,” as he called it. Dana and I were the ones who hesitated.

  I personally was surprised that Brett was so open to the idea. I think it helped him to remember that Dad was allowing him to try for his driver’s license during the summer, and so the place seemed less isolated to him. I think he pictured bringing all his friends over and having room to roam—or build a skateboard ramp, or whatever. Brett was talking a lot about skateboards lately.

  I hoped I wasn’t expected to be excited about Brett’s dreams of his own ramp. He’d likely bring all his new skateboarding friends to enjoy it. I couldn’t imagine much peace or solitude with a gang of guys Brett’s age occupying our yard. I could almost hear the clunk and whir of the skateboards against wood, and it seemed to me to be hopelessly out of place on that quiet hillside. And I was certain he wouldn’t let me participate anyway. We didn’t even play basketball together much anymore. He was much more anxious to be with his new friends. No, the ramp was not something I would look forward to.

  One day passed, and then another. There were frequent calls from the real estate agent alerting Dad that someone else had been looking at the property. Even Mom had lost her conviction that it was “just right.” Switching schools was not what she’d had in mind.

  In the end, the land won out in all our hearts. For various reasons, we each came to believe that it was worth the sacrifices we’d have to make in the short term to have what we pictured as an idyllic setting in the long term. Dana and I agreed to it because, being best friends, we were sure we wouldn’t really be lonely. And Corey’s excitement was contagious. Also, Dad had promised that we’d still make the drive to our church so we weren’t going to lose touch with our friends completely. The turning moment for the two of us was when Dana pointed out that she and I probably would be in different schools next year anway, and we might as well move to an area we liked so much.

  Once we had finally decided for sure, Grandma went to meet with Uncle Patrick to make the arrangements for him to put her house on the market. We knew then that she was with us to stay.

  So Mom and Dad left us watching Corey while they dashed about to numerous meetings with architects, contractors, and bankers. It was all happening so quickly now. And I found myself daydreaming about what it would all be like when it was finished. I guess, without realizing it, I was becoming as excited as Corey.

  Immediately after Brett’s birthday, he tried for his driver’s license. He failed and spent the rest of the day slamming around the house, muttering things about unfairne
ss and biases against teenage guys. He and Dad took frequent trips to parking lots, where he practiced for next time. He was sure he’d be ready. I wondered if Dad felt Brett had been failed unjustly or if he too thought Brett needed a little more experience. But he kept encouraging and coaching.

  I was beginning to think the whole driving issue was tougher on Mom. Even though Brett had grown just as tall as Dad during the last school year, I could tell that Mom wasn’t convinced he was ready for the responsibility of driving. And I noticed she was never the one to take Brett out for his practice sessions.

  After a couple of weeks, Dad took Brett to the city to try again. I think this time they were both very excited. We watched them drive off down the street and wondered if the next time we saw Brett he’d be beside himself with joy—or glum again. I was certainly hoping for joy.

  When the two returned, it was definitely joy we saw. That joy radiated out through the windshield from Brett’s face, behind the steering wheel of Dad’s car. Corey and I rushed to the front porch and cheered as they mounted the steps. Corey was twirling and bobbing in fits.

  “He made it. Brett can drive by hisself! He can drive me around. Let’s go. Come on.”

  Brett picked him up and tossed him into the air. Then he looked back at Dad. “Can we?”

  Dad grinned and held the keys out to Brett again, saying, “You’d better take the van this time.” With an air of excitement, everyone jumped at once to climb in. Only Grandma stayed behind.

  We kept mostly to the less-traveled roads, Mom telling Brett to slow down a bit and Corey repeating, “Speed up. Speed up.” Finally Dad insisted that he hush.