The Perfect Gift

Chapter Five

Sarah

"It's simple. Just put the worms on the hook on the hook," says David Hope, clearly amused at my fear of the creatures before me. 

This is our first fishing trip together. I am seven and too frightened to even look at the tin of worms sprawled over one another. 

"Come on, Sarah. Let me show you. Now what did you promise your mother?" he asks in a prodding manner. When I eventually speak, my voice is muffled because my head is buried in his shoulder, "To get the biggest fish in the whole lake." Dave chuckles softly. 

"All right, why don't we do that, huh?" he says, gently lifting my head so he can see my face clearly. I make a brave move by looking into the tin and almost immediately, my head is back on his shoulder.

He tries another tactic, "Do you remember what you learnt during the last Sunday school?" I lift my head and look at him uncertainly. "Yes, fear." "And?" he prods further. 

"God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind." I answer, proud of myself for remembering the memory verse. "And?" dad prods even further. I squint my eyes. Hum, did I forget something?

I smile once I understand what he's trying to tell me. "God doesn't want me to scared of worms."  "You're right, dear. He never wants you to be afraid. Put all your worries upon Him for He cares for you." 

I nod. "Okay, dad...they don't bite, do they?" I ask pointing at the tin. "Well, maybe a little," he answers. I burst out laughing when I see the look of mischief in his eyes.

"SARAH!" Madeline yells from the kitchen. I stir on my bed and push my pink comforter off my body. It was just a dream. I sigh, that's the third dream I've had this month about my memories with my dad.  

"There's pancakes on the kitchen counter and I think we're out of milk. If you don't get dressed now, you'll be late for school," Madeline continues. 

School? That can't be right. Is the summer break already over? And then it dawned on me: Westmore High resumes today. I cast a glance at my Barbie clock. 7:02. God! I really am late. 

Pulling myself from the bed, I rush into the bathroom. Within a couple of  minutes, I'm done. Dressed in a simple denim pants , a black oversized top that has the word BLESSED boldly written in front and my black plimsolls I got from Jen on my sixteenth birthday, I hurry to the kitchen.

7:30.

"Morning!" I say brightly. Madeline Hope is in her early forties but she looks way younger. She has eyes of amber hue with rich, long blond hair. 

Her body is slim and fit,  mainly because her work as a waitress keeps her on her feet and also her Saturday yoga with the other women in Living Faith Church. She smiles warmly, "Slept well?"

"Well...I had another dream about dad." She appears unfazed probably because she saw that coming. I always tell her about my dreams. "Did you pray about it?" she asks. I shake my head. "The dreams tell you that he still loves you and he's very much present in your life even though he's not here physically. He's reminding you of how proud of you he is. Don't forget that," she says and gives me a hug.

"I won't, mum." I quickly down my pancakes. Pancakes are my best meal in the world. After breakfast, I kiss my mum bye and hurry out the door. "Don't forget to pray about the dream!" mum reminds me. I promise I will and head towards our neighbor's home.

The McCall's home is much like ours- simple and pretty and they attend Living Faith Church with us. Mr. McCall usually gives me a ride to school with his sixth-grader daughter, Kelly. 

She goes to Westmore middle school and I always assume the role of her big sister by taking her to her class in the mornings and fending off bullies.

I see them outside, packing their things into the car. "Morning, Sarah. Did you have a good summer?" asks Mr. McCall once he spots me. At the mention of my name, Kelly turns and squeals SARAH! SARAH! I laugh and give a hugs, ruffling her hair a little. 

"It was all right. Spent most of the break painting...and hello to you too, young lady," I slide  into the front seat with Kelly seated at the back.

Soon enough, we hit the road and head for Westmore High. Mr. McCall clears his throat, "You know, I could get your paintings into our gallery. They are really good and I know a lot of people who would love to buy them." 

I think about my reply. Mr. McCall has been encouraging me to sell my paintings and though it makes me happy knowing some people would appreciate my art, I can't part with any of them. Especially after dad...

After dad died, painting was my refuge and I threw my heart, body and soul into every arch of my brush. Mum's the only one I allowed to see them, after she practically begged me to show her. The first month following dad's death was spent in the attic. 

Painting consumed me to the extent that I wouldn't leave the room for weeks except to eat. That got my mum really worried and she had to call Rev. Baker.

No, my paintings are too personal.  Then with utmost conviction, I say, "I guess I'm not ready to sell them." By the time I look out the window, I realize we're in front of WHS. I hastily alight and help Kelly out.   

Well, here goes nothing, I say aloud.