Beyond Tuesday Morning by Karen Kingsbury Read Free Book Online Page A

haven't forgotten her, and that one day she'll see her father again.”
    There was a silence while Jamie waited. She was about to finish up when Sami cleared her throat. “I'm sorry, God. I hate trying to get through this without You. Plus …” She sniffed once more. “Plus You've got my dad with You. So please, Lord, tell him happy birthday for me. Please.”
    When they finished praying, Jamie hugged the girl and promised to keep praying for her. Before she left, Sami gave Jamie a lopsided grin. “I came here because it was something I could do for my father. But instead … my heavenly Father did something for me.” She stood and touched Jamie's shoulder. “I wasn't expecting that.”
    After Sami left, Jamie looked across the chapel at Jake's picture. She could make it out from any spot in the building—maybe not the details of his handsome face, the strength in his jaw, or the sparkle in his eyes, but she could find it all the same.
    Sami was right. St. Paul's was a place where the unexpected happened. It had been that way for three years, ever since the towers collapsed, leaving the old church completely unharmed. It was an unexpected rescue mission back then and, because of conversations like the one she'd just had, it was an unexpected rescue mission now.
    She noticed Aaron talking with another volunteer near the television at the back of the chapel. But before she had a chance to tell him hello, two women approached her. They were FDNY widows, women who had been in before.
    “Hi, Jamie.” The first one smiled.
    She couldn't remember their names, but she didn't want to say so. Instead she exhaled and rose to greet them. “Back again?”
    The women looked tentatively at each other. Then the first one crossed her arms. “We want to see about becoming volunteers.”
    “Like you,” the other woman said.
    “Like me?”
    Jamie could hear Martha's words of warning. “Most FDNY widows won't ever be ready to take on a job like volunteering at St. Paul's. Discourage women who want to be like you as much as possible, for their sakes.”
    Jamie had bristled at the coordinator's comment. “It's good for me; why wouldn't it be good for them?”
    “You're the exception, Jamie. Trust me. For most people volunteering at St. Paul's wouldn't work them through the stages of grief, it would stall them.”
    “What if someone asks about it and I'm not sure?”
    Martha had given her a wry sort of smile. “You'll know. Ask them a few questions. If they break down, they're not ready.”
    Jamie blinked at the women, hating what she was about to do. The questions she had to ask were like poking a pin at an open wound to see if it was healing. But if Martha was right, it was the only way to make sure the women were able to move past their own grief long enough to help strangers with theirs.
    “Why don't you come this way and we'll talk about it.” Jamie led the women back to the pews, to the same place where she'd been sitting with Sami a few moments earlier. She started with the more outspoken of the two. “I'm on your side, ladies, but sometimes people only think they're ready for volunteer work here.” Her voice was low, discreet. “Can you each tell me what you've done to work through your losses?”
    The first woman nodded. “I've been in counseling at my church for a year. Sometimes I take my children with me—so they can talk about their feelings.”
    “Do they remember their father?”
    “Yes.” The woman's eyes flooded. She folded her hand and stared at her lap for a moment. “The youngest doesn't, but the other three remember him.”
    “If someone sat across from you and told you they'd stopped believing in God because of what happened September 11, would you feel comfortable helping them find their faith again?”
    This time the woman looked up, and a strength filled her eyes. “Absolutely. That's why I'm here. I believe God wants me to share His truth with people who come here hurting.” She looked at