When I was a little girl, there was another little girl who lived down the street from me. Beth (name changed) and her brothers played with me and my brothers on a daily basis. We were the kind of friends who would get mad at each other while we were playing and say stuff like “I’m never playing with you again!” and I’d go home. But most of the time, Beth and I would be playing again like nothing had happened before the end of the day.
When I was almost 8 and Beth had just turned 6, they moved out of state. We still saw them from time to time, but none of us went out of our way to stay in touch.
In 1997, Beth’s family had moved again and they sent us a letter with their new contact info, including e-mail addresses for the entire family. This made me very, very happy. I had really missed Beth.
I expressed to my parents that I wanted to get an e-mail address so I could contact Beth. They told me that I couldn’t, but I could use Dad’s e-mail if I really wanted to e-mail Beth. I declined.
But being the devious, conniving little saucy wench that I was, I asked my brothers help me set up my very own e-mail account and Beth and I started e-mailing each other on a daily basis.
* * * * *
Throughout the time that I was talking with Ginny and Hannah about my future plans, I also spoke with Beth about wanting to leave. I don’t remember talking about it with Beth a lot, but there was one e-mail I particularly remember writing to her about how I felt like I needed to get away from my family, but there would be no way to leave unless I had a car. I asked her to pray with me that I would somehow be able to get a car. I had been saving money from my bakery and church jobs, but I didn’t know if I’d be allowed to buy a car, even if I did have the money for it.
* * * * *
I had been driving an old clunker, but it didn’t run very well and I had several instances where strange things happened, like I was turning a corner and the car died and lost all power. I couldn’t even steer the thing. Finally I said enough is enough.
“Dad, find me a car!”
I had taken up writing several years prior to this, and most of my expression went into my journals. I wrote everything I was thinking and feeling and hoping for. One day I wrote about how the car I was driving wasn’t working and I didn’t like driving it because I had no idea what was wrong with it or how to keep it from doing all the weird little things it did — like losing power all of a sudden. And, of course, since it was such a huge car, it cost like $25 to fill the tank. I wrote in my journal something about how I wanted to get a dark blue Saturn with a sunroof.
Several weeks later, my dad came in the house and said, “I found a car for Mari and it’s a beauty!”
He went on to say that it was a dark blue Saturn with a sunroof.
And I thought to myself, “That one is MINE.”
I don’t remember the timeline of everything, but I’m pretty certain that within 24 hours, that car was sitting in our driveway with my name on the title.
Prayer really does work. One step closer….