More Than Words: Stories of Hope by Diana Palmer, Catherine Mann, Kasey Michaels Read Free Book Online Page A

with the deliveries,” she remarked. “It will mean getting up very early in the mornings to get your homework done, or doing it at school while you’re waiting for me to pick you up.”
    “We could stay at the homework center until you get off work, instead of you coming to get us as soon as school’s out,” Bob suggested.
    “Sure,” Ann agreed. “We wouldn’t mind. There’s a boy I like who’s explaining Spanish verbs to me,” she added shyly.
    “This will work, I think, until we get some more volunteers,” Mary said with a smile.
    “We want to help,” Ann said. “It’s not going to be that much work.”
    “It’s sort of nice, helping other people. No matter how bad it is for us, it’s worse for many other people,” Bob agreed. “I like what we’re doing.”
    Mary hugged them all. “When they say it’s better to give than to receive, they’re not kidding. It really is. I feel wonderful when we take these packages out to people who need them.”
    “Me, too,” Ann said. “I’m going to do a paper on it for my English class.”
    “Good for you!” Mary said.
    “We’re doing okay, aren’t we, Mom?” Bob asked gently. He smiled at her. “Dad didn’t think we could, I’ll bet.”
    The mention of her ex-husband made Mary uneasy. She’d been afraid at first that he might try to get custody of the children, just for spite. But perhaps he didn’t want the aggravation of trying to take care of three of them. Mary had never minded the responsibility. She loved her children, she enjoyed their company. As she looked at them, she felt so fortunate. Things got better every day.
    That evening, she and the children went to the homeless shelter to pick up the donated truck.
    “Can you drive it?” Bev asked worriedly, when she noted petite Mary climbing up into the high cab of the big, long bed, double-cabbed vehicle. It was red and a little dented, but the engine sounded good when it was started.
    “I grew up on a farm,” Mary said with a grin. “I can drive most anything, I expect. I’ll bring it back, but it will be late, is that okay?”
    “If I’m not here, George will be,” Bev assured her. “You keep the doors locked and be careful.”
    “Don’t you worry,” Sam Harlowe said as he climbed up into the passenger seat. “I may be old, but I’m not helpless. Mary will have help if she needs it.”
    “Sure she will,” Bob added, chuckling. “I play tackle on the B-team football squad.”
    “Good luck, then,” Bev called to them as Mary put the truck in gear and pulled out into the street.
     
    Mary stopped by the gas station. True to his word, the manager filled up the tank and even checked under the hood to make sure the truck was in good running shape. He checked the tires as well.
    “Thanks,” she told him.
    He grinned. “My pleasure. Drive carefully.”
    “I will,” she promised.
    She pulled out into the sparse traffic and headed toward the first of the five restaurants. “We’ll probably have to wait a while at first, until we get into some sort of routine.”
    “No problem,” Bob said. “We all brought books to read.”
    Sam laughed. “Great minds run in the same direction.” He pulled out a well-worn copy of Herodotus, the Histories, and displayed it.
    “I’ve got my piecework, as well,” Mary said, indicating a small canvas bag with knitting needles and a ball of yarn. “I’m making hats for people in the shelters. I can only knit in a straight line, but hats are simple.”
    “I wouldn’t call knitting simple,” Sam assured her.
    She laughed. “It keeps my hands busy. Okay, here we are,” she added, pulling into the parking lot of the first restaurant.
     
    The waiting was the only bad part. They had to arrive at or near closing time in order to gather the leftovers. On the first night, the last restaurant was already closed by the time they got to it.
    “We’ll have to do better than this,” Mary murmured worriedly. “I hadn’t realized how long