Let Me Whisper in Your Ear by Mary Jane Clark Read Free Book Online

now, Mrs. Bronner. In fact, I’m quite pissed off at God.”
    â€œWell, that, of course, is up to you, Mr. Walsh. But Laura is an innocent child and I know you want what is best for her. Won’t you please come for Christmas Eve?”
    That was how it started. The first few years, Emmett Walsh came with his daughter to the Bronners’ house the night before Christmas. After that, Laura came on her own.
    An only child, Laura loved the big family celebration. Alan Bronner was a warm, generous man who clearly loved his “Max” and their two children, Danielle and Justin. Aunts, uncles and cousins filled the house, gathering to celebrate the Wigilia, the biggest Polish family feast day of the year.
    As dusk gathered, Mrs. Bronner placed a candle in the front window. She explained to Laura that this was once believed to help the spirits of family ancestors find their way “home” for the Wigilia.
    â€œDo you think my mommy will find me here?” Laura asked quietly that first year.
    Maxine pulled the child close. “Laura, I truly believe your mother is here in spirit, loving you very much. She did everything she could to stay with you and I know she did not want to leave you. But it was her time to pass on, to go to live in heaven with God. I know she wants you to be happy and enjoy your life and all the wonderful things that are in store for you.”
    â€œLike tonight?”
    The poor child is asking permission to enjoy herself, Maxine thought.
    â€œYes, especially tonight.”
    Maxine took Laura’s hand and led her into the dining room. Pulling back the corner of the heavily starched white linen tablecloth, Maxine showed the child the straw that had been laid beneath it.
    â€œHay and straw are the symbols of the birth of Jesus in the stable, Laura. When the first star appears in the sky, we can begin our celebration.”
    Laura thought about that. “What if there is no star? What if it’s too cloudy?”
    Maxine laughed. “Then we begin at six o’clock.”
    But that night, there was a star. The family and guests stood around the table to break and share the optalek, the sacred bread that, Mrs. Bronner explained to Laura, was similar to the liturgical water used as the sacred Host at Mass. Instead of the Host’s round shape, the optalek was a rectangle and was embossed on one side with a Christmas motif. For Poles, it symbolized the strengthening of bonds between peoples.
    Laura solemnly ate her piece of the wafer and then took her seat next to her father at the table. She was relieved that Daddy had not been drinking that day. In fact, she noticed that when Mrs. Bronner asked what he would like to drink, Daddy had asked for a ginger ale.
    Maybe things were going to get better.

13
    I N THE DAYS before her mother died, eight-year-old Laura had been put to bed early, but she had not slept. The familiar bedroom with its multicolored candy-striped wallpaper and single twin-canopy bed, the “princess” bed, Mommy called it, the happy, cozy place where so many nighttime stories had been lovingly told, became a darkened, frightening chamber. During the daytime, there had been school and her teacher, Mrs. Bronner, and Brownies and play dates. At night, however, when all the day’s activities were over, Laura would lie in her small bed alone, to think and worry.
    She had known something was wrong, though everyone tried to act as if everything were all right when she was around.
    Daddy hadn’t known that she’d seen him crying in his big red chair late at night. He’d thought she was in bed asleep. But she wasn’t. She was up and creeping around. That was how she found out everything.
    Laura, ever the little trouper, had acted as though nothing were amiss. She would chatter through supper, telling Emmett everything that had happened in Mrs. Bronner’s classroom each day, careful not to look at the empty chair at the table.