“O God, our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come,
Our shelter from the stormy blast,
And our eternal home!”
Carlos grasped Lorraine’s carefully manicured hand and looked at her. A look unlike any he’d seen since their marriage stole across her face, and she squeezed her husband’s hand.
Gordon Rhys felt the power of the Holy Spirit working through the woman he loved, and tears blurred the white figure standing with outstretched arms. When the audience surged to its feet on the last verse and spontaneously joined in, Gordon couldn’t sing the final words,
“Be thou our guard while troubles last
And our eternal home.”
God, help many to accept Your Son, Gordon silently prayed as the crowd raised their voices in tribute to singer and song.
At last the stage lights went out, the curtain fell before rising again with the entire cast. A minute passed. Two. People called, “Bring them out!” but when the curtain lifted, the cast milled about a fallen white figure.
“Tamar!” Gordon plowed through the babbling crowd and vaulted to the stage with Dick close behind, then Carlos.
“She’s all right, sir, but he—a man, when the lights dimmed, he pushed her aside, snatched the tapestry from behind her and shot off the stage,” someone cried.
“Stay with her. I’ll go.” Dick made a flying leap in the direction the thief had taken. He burst out the stage door and careened into the two policemen. “Quick, did anyone come out?”
“No.” They sprang to attention. “Is there trouble?”
“A thief,” Dick explained briefly and dashed back inside. Was that a darker shadow at the end of an unlit hall? He pelted toward it. Saw it move. “Stop, thief!” Dick put on speed, launched himself like a cannonball, and felled the man who struggled to no avail against the boy’s healthy young strength.
“You can let him up,” a grim voice ordered and Dick sprang off the still-kicking man. A policeman yanked the thief to his feet. Carlos came running from backstage, and the man squirmed again.
“I’ve done nothing! Let me go,” he shouted furiously.
“He stole this priceless tapestry from my sister Tamar O’Donnell,” Dick yelled and grabbed it from behind the man.
“Who are you, anyway?” The policeman demanded. He grabbed the man’s chin and raised it. “Say, you’re the guy who broke out of jail last night. Carlin. That’s it. I oughta get a promotion outa this.” He snapped handcuffs on Carlin, who still protested he had only picked up the tapestry.
“Wish I’d known sooner who he was,” Dick lamented when the policeman and his partner hustled Phillip off. “I’d have given him a few licks he wouldn’t forget!” He tossed the tousled hair out of his eyes. “Tamar’s all right, isn’t she?”
“She’s fine.” Carlos passed one hand in front of his eyes and color stole back to his ghastly face. “Let’s get this to her. He motioned toward the tapestry. “Dick—thanks.”
“ ’Sall right.” His brother grinned and flexed his muscles, but when they reached Tamar he dropped to his knees beside Gordon, who had pulled her into his arms regardless of onlookers. “Here’s your rug. Kind of crumpled but it’s not torn or anything. Carlin stole it.”
Tamar laughed until she cried. “Phillip-with-two-l’s. I didn’t think he had it in him.” She laughed again and demanded that Gordon set her on her feet. “Tell them everything is all right,” she implored after a lightning glance at the concerned crowd. “No, there’s a better way. Carlos, asked Gilda to start playing ‘The Star Spangled Banner.’” Flanked by her brothers, she made room for Gordon and Lorraine, and then Tamar led the house in song.
Finally people dispersed. So did the cast members. At last only the Smiths, O’Donnell’s, and Gordon remained.
“Tamar, I can’t stand to wait until October for us to be married,” Gordon burst out. “After this, I’ll never be happy until you are my wife. Will you marry me next week? Hood can keep things going for a time.”
Tamar looked into his eyes. Her fingers held the tapestry that had been taken from her, retrieved; given away, found; stolen, returned. The Master Weaver had allowed dark threads to wind their way into her life, but they only enhanced the brightness of what lay ahead; life with Gordon, followed by eternal life with the Weaver. She nodded and held out her hands. The tapestry covered them, spilling its warmth over their love. She glanced around the close-knit little circle. Carlos and Lorraine stood with arms around each other. A new softness showed on Lorraine’s face. George and Gilda had clasped hands. Dick’s feet were apart, his arms crossed.
Please, God, make our lives beautiful for You and one day save us all, Tamar silently prayed. She freed her hands, draped the tapestry over her shoulders serape-style, and threw her head back for a last look at the stars.
Long after the unfinished theatre lay empty, long after Tamar slept, the essence of a mighty prayer lingered over the hills of San Francisco:
Be thou our guard while troubles last
And our eternal home.
Tomorrow beckoned, with its joys and uncertainties. Tonight, the pulse of a city had been quickened by the promise of salvation.
About the Author
COLLEEN L. REECE is a prolific author with over sixty books published including seven Heartsong Presents titles. With the popular Storm Clouds over Chantel, Reese established herself as a doyenne of Christian romance.
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