Part 2 of "In The Woods When First We Met"

229. A Kindred Spirit and a House Reawakened

Lydia did stay for dinner, and Marilla wished she could stay forever, because Anne was eating.

Anne couldn't eat much- she wasn't used to eating, yet- but she finished almost all the potato soup in her bowl, and took a few bites of her dinner roll, and she even asked Marilla if they could make beef stew with potatoes for the next day.

Marilla was happy Anne had a food request, and even happier that Anne had said "the next day". She was hoping for something to happen another day. And for Marilla, that came by divine grace.

Before Lydia left them, she came back up to Anne's room, to retrieve the package she'd left when she was talking to Anne there. Anne vaguely remembered Lydia setting something down when she'd first come in the room. Now she went with Lydia up the stairs, curious about what it was.

They sat on Anne's bed and Lydia handed the package to Anne to open. As Anne slipped the string loose and pulled the brown paper off, Lydia said to her, "Everyone I've talked to has told me about your big words. So I brought you another one."

Anne opened the book. It was a journal- a nice one, with a leather cover, and when she opened it up, she saw that on the first page, Lydia had written one word- big and bold, and in beautiful calligraphy that Anne found she couldn't wait to try to imitate.

Resilient.

"That's what you are, Anne. Don't forget that."

Anne shook her head. She was looking at the little curly-cues that decorated every letter of the word resilient.

"I've found that writing helps," Lydia told her.

"Me, too," Anne whispered, still staring at the word. Something inside her strengthened.

"Then fill up every page," Lydia said with a smile.

Anne nodded. She always seemed to be short on paper, and the paper she used in school wasn't like this. She touched the pages- sturdy, and the color of buttermilk.

The word resilient gave her a foundation to stand on, but what made her feel she could fly were all the empty pages behind it...she found she could not wait to fill them.

"Thank you," she whispered. "This is...heavenly."

Lydia's eyes shone.

Anne looked up at Lydia, into her eyes. "Thank you for coming," she said passionately, the simple words not feeling like enough to make Lydia see all she had done for her. "I don't know what I would have done...I felt so lost. I still do. ...But now I see that I'm not going to feel this way forever."

"You won't," Lydia said with a loving smile. She had not known if she could make a difference for this young girl who needed her so much. She had not known what to say. But it seemed that what Anne needed most was just to know that she was not alone in what had happened to her, that there was someone who understood, and someone who could show her that she could live through this.

Lydia said, "And you can write to me, Anne, any time you want to."

"Can I?" Anne asked, feeling touched that Lydia was willing to keep talking to her. She didn't have to; Anne was a stranger, and it had been kind enough for Lydia to be willing to come visit her at all.

"I hope you'll keep an open dialogue with your family, of course, because they love you and they care. But I know that it's different, talking about this with someone who's been through it."

Anne nodded.

"Well," Lydia said, brighter now. "I suppose I better be heading out. Your Matthew is going to take me to meet my husband in town, and then we'll head to the train station." She explained, "My husband came with me, but he stayed in town while I came here, so you'd have more privacy."