Julia's Hope Read Online Free PDF

ramshackle shed. I couldn’t picture what she’d find, but she’d find something. Just like her grandma, who used to say that a rich man was a fool if he didn’t know how to be poor. God rest her. She’d given Julia peace and a way to provide.
    It was more than I could do. Right now, I gave my family nothing. If I’d jumped off a bridge like Bill Harvey, my coworker, they’d be none the worse.
    Behind me, Robert was reading. Sarah didn’t make a sound. There was not a question out of either of them. They knew there’d be breakfast. Of course there’d be breakfast. Mother would take care of that.
    I watched a minute longer, thinking of the flowered scarf she’d chosen out of her bag.
    She had been wearing that same scarf when I met her years ago. Julia was thrifty, but it was a shame she hadn’t bought a hundred more when we were able. Instead, she’d gotten things for the kids, never really caring if she ever got more for herself.
    Her father had given her plenty when she was a little girl. Money had meant something to him, though she liked simple, reasonable things that didn’t cost much. She’d never been in this kind of a spot before, that I knew. And it made me wonder why she never talked of leaving me.
    I tried to push that thought away, and instead listen to Robert reading to Sarah. Robert was old enough to know the shape we were in. He knew his mother was out in the rain, looking for breakfast. I saw his sideways glance, as if he questioned what, if anything, I was able to do. I had the feeling he would have rather gone out and gotten wet than stay inside with me.
    With a sigh I turned from the window and walked back into the kitchen, hating to be here, hating the need that had Julia rummaging for stale food in the cupboards last night. How could I expect my children to respect me? Especially Robert.
    I walked to the pantry, which was just off the kitchen. I hadn’t noticed it last night, but a handle stuck up from the board floor. A basement. If Julia was willing to pull jars out of a cupboard, maybe I should be willing to take a look in the basement.
    The creak of the old door brought both children running to watch me. “You stay up here,” I told them. “The stairs might not be sound.”
    Sarah stood obediently at the top, never one to volunteer herself into a dark place. But Robert ran for candles, handed me one with the matches, and promptly followed me down. I couldn’t say anything to him. I suppose he felt that it was his responsibility to see that his father didn’t miss something important.
    There were at least two rooms in the basement. But I stopped in the first one, feeling sure I knew what Julia would say when she saw the stack of dry wood beneath one window. The Lord led us. The Lord was providing a fire over which to pop our ancient borrowed corn. She would smile. And Sarah would smile for sure. But I felt sick in the pit of my stomach, and I knew I wouldn’t be eating any of it.
    “Dad!”
    Robert’s yell was so sudden that I ran to him in the second room, fearing a snake or who knew what else.
    “Dad! Look!” Robert was pulling on a piece of metal. It took me a minute to see that it was a bicycle. “Can we take it upstairs?” he asked. “Can I try it?”
    “No! Robby, we can’t just claim any old thing we find. Somebody owns this stuff.”
    I knew the inconsistency of my words was not lost on him as I pulled him into the first basement room to help me take the wood upstairs. “We need this,” I told him. “To cook with.”
    “I hate living this way,” he said. “When are we going to get a home again?”
    I hurried up those sturdy old stairs with all the wood I could carry, thinking about Bill Harvey. He didn’t have to listen to his boy’s questions anymore and stand there with no answer. He didn’t have to see his world falling apart.
    Sarah was at the top of the stairs, waiting.
    “Honey, we’re going to have a fire,” I told her.
    She smiled like I knew she