Alma was once again awakened from her heavy memories to the reality of her day. She looked down at Peter with sad eyes and felt a surge of love reappear in her heart. She hadn’t felt anything for so long she had thought she would never feel again. The rush of warm feelings felt like a wave of optimism she had long forgotten. Peter was her healer. She brushed his hair sideways and placed a soft and gentle kiss on his forehead. “I love you Peter,” she said.
Time passed as if in waves. Struggle was the ever-present daily routine. Nights were frightening and sleep was rare as they lay their heads on pillows laced with fear. Day passed into night and night into day. Somehow they always managed through the trials, like God was listening to their prayers. Although depression and fear became Alma’s best friends she learned to appreciate the little moments .
Peter grew but not without questions. He felt the anger that would not leave and saw the scars they both bore. His mother had prayed and sure, they seemed to keep on making it some how, but Peter wanted to know why? Why all this pain and a life of sadness? Why do they toil so much to survive? Didn’t mama pray? What is it with God and suffering? These were questions he needed answers for as he grew from child to man.
(to be continued)