A Promise Across Time [Completed]

Paths of Purpose

September 1965
SWEDEN

***RAVEN

Frida had once again thrown herself into her work, leaving me to manage the house with Grandma Arntine. The rhythm of her absence had become so familiar that I barely noticed it anymore, but today, a gnawing sense of responsibility tugged at me. They were both working hard to keep us afloat, but I couldn't just sit here and do nothing. I had to help, but what could a twelve-year-old possibly do?

I was sitting on the couch, deep in thought, trying to figure out a way to contribute. Maybe I could sell something? Or find a small job? But every idea seemed too far-fetched for someone my age. Frustration crept in as I kept circling the same thoughts.

"Raven, can you come here for a moment, please."

Grandma Arntine's voice pulled me from my thoughts. She'd been sitting in her usual spot by the window, knitting quietly while I mulled over my worries.

I stood up and walked over to her. "What is it, Grandma?"

She smiled warmly, her knitting needles clinking softly as she set them aside. "Could you do me a favor? Our neighbor, Mrs. Hargrave, asked if I could make her some of my apple pastries. Can you bring them over to her? It's just a few blocks away."

I nodded, though the weight of my earlier thoughts hadn't completely lifted. "Of course, Grandma. But... do you think I could start doing more around here? Maybe something to help with money?"

Her brow furrowed slightly, concern flashing across her face. "Oh, Raven, dear, you shouldn't worry about things like that. Frida and I are managing just fine."

"But I want to help," I insisted, feeling the frustration bubble up again. "I'm not a little kid anymore. I don't want to just sit here and do nothing."

Grandma Arntine paused, her hands resting on her lap. She studied me for a moment, as if weighing her words carefully. "You're growing up so fast," she said softly, almost to herself. "I understand how you feel, Raven, but you must also remember that your time will come. There's a right moment for everything."

Her words didn't sit well with me. I didn't want to wait. I wanted to do something now.

But I took the basket of pastries she handed me, the sweet smell of apples and cinnamon wafting up as I did. "Mrs. Hargrave will be expecting you," Grandma added, her smile returning. "Thank you, dear."

I nodded and stepped outside, the crisp air of the early afternoon hitting me as I walked down the familiar path toward Mrs. Hargrave's house. The neighborhood was quiet, save for the occasional sound of distant chatter and the rustling of leaves. My mind, however, was still whirling with ideas and worries about how I could be more useful.

As I neared Mrs. Hargrave's house, an idea struck me. What if I started helping with odd jobs around the neighborhood? I could run errands, do deliveries—things like this. It wasn't much, but it was something. And maybe, just maybe, it could ease some of the burden on Frida and Grandma.

I knocked on Mrs. Hargrave's door, feeling a strange mix of determination and uncertainty. When the door creaked open, the elderly woman smiled at me from behind her glasses. "Well, if it isn't Raven. You're here with your grandmother's famous pastries, aren't you?"