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"I'm sorry about that," she said, rubbing the side of my leg. "I've had trouble with a few Christians over the years. There was a lady who used to come to our church, and she was just so rude that I quit going for a year one time just because I didn't want to see her. We're friends with other people who go there, and we didn't want to go somewhere else. But ultimately, you know, I feel like that's just another tool of the enemy."
"Also, he did this to my leg."
"The enemy?"
"Stanley."
The accusation slipped out before I could stop it. I had not told a single soul, and I didn't plan on it. The words just spilled out of my mouth like it was no big deal at all.
She turned, glancing at me with a serious expression like she couldn't have understood me correctly. "What did you say?"
"Stanley. He dug a hole. I don't know if he dug it or my mother dug it, there's also a guy named John. I don't know who dug the hole. It's horrible to even think that it could be my mother. Either way, she was in on it."
"In on what?"
"Digging a hole so that I would step in it."
She looked confused and tilted her head. I could tell that she was trying to understand.
"He said it was in the Bible, but it's not. He said it was common practice for a shepherd to… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said any of this," I admitted, feeling horrified as the story went on. "I'm really sorry. I'm not sure if I'm ready to talk about this stuff."
She hugged me. I don't know what I was expecting her to do but it wasn't that. She shifted and leaned in, wrapping her arms around me.
I shifted that way and hugged her back.
"They said it was Biblical for a shepherd to break a lamb's leg to keep it from going astray."
"Did they do this to you? Did they hurt you? Does Owen know that? Do you need to get the police involved?"
"I don't need anything, legally. My mom gave me the papers I was asking for."
"Is it something that happened a lot when you were growing up? Did they hurt you?"
"No. I mean, there were control issues, but I never pushed the boundaries before."
"How did you push them now? Why did they do this?"
I did not want to say that it was because of Owen.
"They thought I was going astray," I said. "They said they thought they were doing it for my own good. That's what's so messed up about it." Saying that made me realize how detestable it was. I felt embarrassed, and I began to cry, which made hertake me into her arms, holding me tightly. This made me cry even more. I sat there and cried for what must've been a full minute, and Denise Atkinson held me like she loved me. "It's so embarrassing," I said getting myself together. "I haven't even told Owen. I’m horrified I told you."
"Why are you embarrassed?" She said the words in a sweet, forgiving tone as she rubbed my back.
"Because it probably makes you see me as a… they're the people who are supposed to love me. They're the only people I have in the world, and it's just embarrassing to say that they would even think about doing something like that to me. It makes me feel like I have no one. Obviously, I kind of do have no one. That's why I'm here. I came here, and you guys are just so nice to me. I'm just thankful for however long I'm… I feel like an imposter here. I was somewhere that was more dysfunctional than I thought it was. I'm still kind of working my way through that."
She continued to hold me.
"You will work your way through it. And you're not an imposter. We're all imposters. We've all had to be adopted in some way. Definitely spiritually. We're all equally undeserving of God's goodness. I'm grafted into a family that I don't deserve. Owen, my son, cares about you, and therefore his father and I open our hearts to you. In a way, we adopt you. The Son of God did that for us on a much greater level. He not only vouched for us, he corrected our wrongs—made it so we're not imposters. I don't know whether or not Stanley is a real Christian. I don't know where your mom stands, either. But I know we all have regrets in life. I am a Christian, and I'm not perfect. I'm far from it." She paused and continued to hug me, gently rubbing my back. "I'm so sorry that happened to you, sweetheart. I know it must seem impossible to think about forgiving them for such athing right now, but that will come. Forgiveness is going to help. But, oh, I’m so sorry. It hurts my heart to think of that."
"Oh, I'm fine. I'm just thankful that you guys are helping me out so much. I don't expect Mr. Charlie to pay me for working at the clinic. It honestly is the least I could do for staying here."
"Oh, I'll tell you right now that Charlie's not going to let you continue to work for free. He's already got Susan in payroll adding up the hours you've already been there. And as far as you staying in our home, you don't owe us anything for that. It's our pleasure. You're at the clinic with Charlie all day, and then you're so quiet in here when you get back. We hardly know you're here."
I relaxed into her arms feeling a peaceful wave of relief. I was relieved that she didn't mind me being at her house. I was relieved to have told someone the truth. I had built it up in my mind, and it seemed so unacceptable to say. But I had said it, and there she was, still holding me and caring about me. My mother was not a bad mom, but she never did hold me like this.
"Back on my birthday, Owen mailed me a package from Montana. It was when he had just met you. He wrote a note about this little bird necklace, how he had met the artist who designed it and she did it when she was only twelve years old. He specified that you were older now, and that was all he said about you, no other details. It was a birthday package, and the note went on to write other things. But I knew. Somehow I knew. I don't know if it was the sparrow itself or the type of information he chose to include about you. But I knew the girl who made this bird would turn out to be someone special in our lives." I glanced at her, not knowing what to say. "Thank you," she added.
"For what?" I asked, since I felt like I should be thanking her.
