The Gift of Empathy (The Gifts Book 3)
Page 1
PRAISE FOR
THE GIFT OF LIGHT
By: Jen Gentry
*5.0 out of 5 stars
The Gift of Light,
I loved this book and I can't wait for the second book in "the Gift" series. I didn't want to put it down so I have to admit I'm tired this because I stayed up way too late to finish. It is truly wonderful to read about light and darkness in such a different way and what a great story line. Loved it!!!- Pam Amazon reviewer
*5.0 out of 5 stars
Exciting and moving
"The Gift of Light" was an exciting and moving book. At times, the hairs on my arms were standing up! I had my Kindle on text to speech and was listening while I was driving....I found myself gripping the steering wheel as the action heated up. I can't wait to read the next in the series "The Gift of Knowledge".- Sandra B. Linebaugh
*5.0 out of 5 stars
Beautifully done!
This grabbed my imagination from the beginning! Great plot! This was fun to read. I was caught by surprise at the smooth presentation of salvation, coupled with the intercession and warfare education. I have often gagged on novelists attempts to integrate Biblical truths into the plot because they are so clumsy and forced. This was amazingly natural and I am cheering for the next books in the series.- cminiaci
Get your copy HERE
PRAISE FOR
THE GIFT OF KNOWLEDGE
By: Jen Gentry
*5.0 out of 5 stars
The Adventure of a Lifetime.
Rarely do I find a book that offers me an escapism from my dull and daily world. Gentry continues her angel theme with high-stakes adventure. What makes this second in a series stand out is the international flavor and the introduction of a new supporting character. At times it reminded me of one of my favorite all time movies, Romancing the Stone. Adventure, romance, intrigue, and oh did I mention angels. Spiritual warfare happens. Read this book! If you want to get away, buy this book.- Stan Bednarz
*5.0 out of 5 stars
Wonderful read!
Another excellent story! A great follow up on the first book "The Gift of Light". Action, adventure, and a story line that makes you really think about the possibilities of the righteous warfare that is happening every day in each of our lives. I can't wait for the next book in the series. Thanks Jen, for sharing your gift with all of us.- Mary D.
* 5.0 out of 5 stars
Adventure,
I looked forward to reading this book, and I must say it was no disappointment. It's full of adventure from page one. I enjoyed Emily's strong character and her unwavering faith and trust in the Lord. I'll be watching for the third book in this series. - Kel_H
Get your copy HERE
THE GIFT EMPATHY
Book Three in The Gifts Series
by: Jen Gentry
Copyright © Jen Gentry 2014
All rights reserved. This book or parts
thereof may not be reproduced
in any form without written
permission from the Author
Visit Jen’s website at
www.JenGentrysBooks.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locals is entirely coincidental
Cover design by: Jonna Feavel
Edited by: Darlene Shortridge and Peter Pierro
The team at 40 Day Publishing
http://www.40daypublishing.com
ISBN-13: 978-1497361393
ISBN-10: 1497361397
THE GIFT OF EMPATHY
Book Three in The Gifts Series
By: Jen Gentry
1 Corinthians 12:7-11
Now to each one the manifestation of the Spirit is given for the common good. To one there is given through the Spirit a message of wisdom, to another a message of knowledge by means of the same Spirit, to another faith by the same Spirit, to another gifts of healing by that one Spirit,10 to another miraculous powers, to another prophecy, to another distinguishing between spirits, to another speaking in different kinds of tongues, and to still another the interpretation of tongues. All these are the work of one and the same Spirit, and he distributes them to each one, just as he determines.
The Gift of Empathy
Chapter One
Romans 11:29
For the gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable.
In the cold night air, a dark haired girl wandered the dimly lit streets of New York, alone. Barely sixteen, this was no sissy-girl, but a hardcore street urchin who knew how to survive on her own. She’d lived on the streets since the day she was born. Her mother taught her well. Mother and daughter survived hopping from one shelter to the next for fourteen years. While picking pockets and scamming was a scary way to live, sometimes it was the only way to eat.
Pulling her tattered hoodie closer around her delicate features, Jewel Bell thought of her mother. Two years to this very night Jewel’s mother died in her arms, on this very street. Jewel didn’t know what compelled her to walk this street on this date. It wasn’t nostalgia or longing. Jewel would never truly miss her mother, Lydia Bell. No, Lydia was never really a mother. Not a good one, anyway.
A myriad of emotions rolled over Jewel. She began to walk briskly away from this place that conjured grizzly images of her mother’s violent death. With expert skill, she tamped down on those awful memories and the painful stabs the emotions wracked her body with.
The fall winds continued to cool the air around her. Soon, Jewel would have no choice but to seek out the crammed shelters at night. Dread filled her, starting in her chest, as it always did, then fanned out into her limbs where it settled and ached. She generally avoided coming into such close contact with others. Especially the mentally anguished, emotionally charged people that seemed to fill the shelters these days. All that pain packed together in one building made Jewel physically ill, to the point she could be sick for days. But that kind of sickness didn’t kill her, the cold streets of the city in winter just might. Jewel hated winter more than anything she’d ever had to endure. She prayed for a few more weeks of warm weather so she could avoid the shelters as long as possible.
Making her way back to the bridge where she stashed her sleeping gear, Jewel’s heart was heavy. That first winter without her mother lived in her mind, always. She’d fought off one danger after another. Fortunately, that was the winter she met Samuel. Jewel trusted no one on this earth the way she trusted Old Sam.
Sam found Jewel alone and starving in a deserted alley a few nights after her mother passed. He drug Jewel to a mission shelter and forced her to eat. He didn’t leave her side in the weeks to come and defended her from other homeless people who’d wanted to steal from her or hurt her in her weakened state. Slowly she’d come to trust him. Samuel alone knew her mother was dead. He helped keep the secret so she wouldn’t be placed in state custody. In her mind, nothing would be worse than having to live in close quarters with strangers on a daily basis. She’d never be able to trust any adults who wanted to tell her what to do. Her mother had left her with that legacy.
Old Sam lived on the streets longer than anyone Jewel knew. Without his help she surely would’ve died that winter. She thanked the Lord for Samuel who’d become like a dear uncle to her. Thanks to him, Jewel was able to leave her meager belongings stashed while she attended school during the day. School kept her going. She dreamed of one day having a productive life as a nurse or a doctor and a family and a home of her own. Maybe, one day.
Samuel’s soft snores could be heard coming from his pallet in the c
rawl space under the bridge that was her current home. Jewel spread out her own pallet next to his, pulled out a worn copy of Wuthering Heights and read by candlelight until she drifted off to sleep.
****
Samuel waited patiently until his charge slept before he transformed himself into a ball of light that shot straight up into the sky. Above the bridge he could still watch over Jewel. She was never safe on the streets, but in the past few weeks she’d been noticed by a particularly dangerous sect of demons in the area. Jewel’s gift of empathy was a serious threat to all demons and could be a great boon to others seeking the Lord. It was time to get Jewel off the streets and into a place where she could learn to trust the Lord and others who could help her learn to use her gift.
Liam, the commanding angel over Perry House, joined Samuel in the sky.
“Greetings, my brother.” Liam clasped arms with Samuel. “The girl sleeps well?”
“Yes, she sleeps safely on this night. I don’t know how much longer she can stay on the streets, though. Her gift is starting to attract the attention of the demonic hordes in the area. The demons will not tolerate the presence of an ‘empath’ among their charges for very long.”
“The Lord has a plan for her. Soon her sister, Emily, will come for her. Let us hope that Jewel will go home with Emily without too much trouble.”
“Yes, it will be difficult for Jewel to trust anyone. I pray the Lord helps her to understand that life on the streets is about to get even more dangerous, before it’s too late.”
“Keep her safe, Samuel, and know help is on the way.” The two angels saluted each other with raised swords in praise, “For the lamb, who alone is worthy,” before they each returned to their own charges.
****
Jewel spent most evenings hanging out in the public library. The trick to not getting thrown out was to really do her homework or tuck herself away in a corner with a good book. The librarians were trained to watch for homeless persons looking for warm places to sleep, but Jewel never made any trouble and kept to herself and she left before closing each night without having to be told.
She finished up her homework and was grateful for a couple more hours to read before she had to check into the mission shelter around the block. Luckily her favorite corner on the second floor was empty as she set her backpack next to a plush oversize chair, the perfect spot for Jewel to curl up and read. For Jewel, this was heaven. When she was alone with a good book, she could escape from the harsh life she lived.
It took a smart and skilled person to stay off the radar of the many unsavory characters who combed the streets looking for someone to use and devour for their own gain and selfish desires. One thing Lydia had done for her was to teach her how to hide from and avoid the many predators. Jewel thought of her mother less and less these days but for some reason on this night her mother’s image would not leave her mind. Lydia Bell was an enigma even to her daughter. Jewel knew very little of where her mother came from. She only knew that at one time her mother had a home and for some reason she left it. Lydia never stayed in one place for very long. She kept moving around. Jewel spent most of her time as a young child looking over her shoulders for ‘the people’ who were supposedly searching for her mother to take her away. Jewel was only eight years old when she realized her mother was delusional. There were no people searching for her, but her mother firmly believed it. There was no convincing Lydia of anything other than what was in her mind to be true when she went on one of her manic binges.
Over the years Jewel learned the signs of one of Lydia’s oncoming manic episodes. One time Lydia had been so warped, a social worker in one of the shelters they stayed in managed to get Lydia placed into a psychiatric facility. The next six months were the most stable Jewel would ever know. She came to love her foster family and sleeping in a real bed every night in a real home helped her learn to trust and depend on others. Jewel remembered now how her trust and dependence made her weak and hurt her more than she’d ever been hurt before. In a rare moment, instead of curling up in the library chair and reading her book, Jewel allowed herself to ponder on that fateful day when Lydia burst back into her life. Jewel had finally come to trust her foster family and began to live a close to normal life.
“Come on, Jewel. It’s all right. Mommy has this new apartment all fixed up for us. I promise, honey, no more shelters. I’m good now, darling. We’re gonna be so happy, you’ll see.” Eleven-year-old Jewel glared over her mother’s head at the social worker who’d brought her to her mother.
“No! I want to go home. I never want to live with you again, Lydia. Take me home now.” Jewel implored the social worker as she tried to pull away from her mother.
The social worker only shook her head. “No, Jewel. Your mother has proven herself competent enough to take care of you. You’ll have to stay here with her now.” With that the social worker walked out the door of the dingy apartment, leaving Jewel to deal with her mentally ill mother all by herself, once again.
After that, Jewel vowed to never trust any adult ever again. She never saw the foster family that she’d come to love again or the social worker assigned to look after her well-being even though the social worker was supposed to be checking in on her and her mother frequently. Eight weeks was all it took for Lydia to be off the meds and the both them out on the streets again. Jewel resigned herself to the homeless life, but swore she would stay enrolled in the schools for homeless children until she could somehow make a better life for herself. Never again would she allow the state’s child welfare program to place her in foster care. It was just too painful.
Shaking her head Jewel purged her mind of the painful memories of her mother and immersed herself in her book. Long before she was ready her time of reading alone came to an end. By prior agreement, she and Samuel would be staying at the mission shelter tonight as temperatures were expected to dip below freezing. They would be separated into groups for men and women but at least Jewel would sleep better knowing that her friend was close by.
The mission building was crammed. It seemed to Jewel that each winter brought more and more lost souls into the shelters that were already so full they practically burst at the seams. Jewel knew she was in for a long night. Having already caught a glimpse of Samuel in the equally crammed men’s section she prepared to settle for the night. She unrolled her worn sleeping bag and small flat pillow onto a sagging cot and silently prayed there would be no lice or bed bugs to torment her. She curled into herself on the cot and read her book until the mission’s volunteers called for lights out. Jewel wrapped her arms around herself tight and buried herself as deep as she could into her sleeping bag. Oh dear God let this night pass swiftly. With all the misery crammed into this small space Jewel was sure to feel the brunt of it.
Waves upon waves of heat sinking into her bones woke Jewel from a fretful sleep. The searing pain overtook her entire body as sobs choked in her throat. She was thirsty as the burn set in. Dare she risk pulling out the bottle of water she had stashed in her backpack? The pain of trying to move may be her undoing. She was afraid she would cry out and bring unwanted attention to herself, so she just remained still and tried to breathe her way through the heat and pain. Jewel didn’t fully understand the phenomenon that caused her this distress. She only knew that she could feel other people’s pain and misery. All the fear, heartache, and even physical pain felt by so many in such a large group of people always found its way into Jewel’s tiny body. On most nights in the shelters she could manage it and even push it away. But with so many souls in one place it was too much all at once. Jewel was overwhelmed.
The clock on the wall said it was 3:30. The doors to the shelter would remain locked until 6:30, three more hours of the agonizing fire coursing through her veins. Silent tears streamed down Jewel’s face as she held her breath and willed the sobs in her chest to be silent. She made it one more hour before she could not stop the cries from bubbling up and out. Her wails woke the entire building.
Jewel soon found herself in the front offices of the mission surrounded by several of the mission’s officials and volunteers. “Don’t worry, dear. An ambulance is on its way.” One of the women crooned as Jewel continued to sob. The heat and pain began to subside as Jewel had been moved from general population into a more secluded and less human filled office.
“Where are your parents, girl? You know we don’t allow underage children to be in the shelter without a parent or guardian with them?” Another voice asked. This was just the thing Jewel worked so hard to avoid. If these do-gooders had their way, Jewel would end up in foster care again. No way! That isn’t going to happen. Not again.
Jewel sucked up her tears and calmly stood up. “I’m feeling a little better now, but I need to go to the bathroom.” Jewel picked up her bag and started to leave.
“Fine, go to the bathroom. Then you come right back here. We need to notify the authorities if we can’t find your parents. How old are you, anyway? Fifteen, sixteen, maybe?” The voice from before was most insistent.
Jewel shrugged her shoulders and continued on. In the bathroom she found a small window that was locked from the inside, but with a few hard shoves she got it open and managed to climb out of it. She ran as fast as she could from the mission. In the distance, she heard the sirens coming closer. The ambulance that had been intended for her would arrive to find her long gone.
In the darkness Jewel made her way a few blocks over to an all-night coffee shop. She had just enough change in her pockets to buy a cup of coffee so she could wait out the rest of the freezing night. Samuel would find her, he always did. She would have to find another shelter to stay at as now. She’d been tagged and the authorities would be looking for her.
Jewel sat in a corner booth and ordered her coffee. It was all she could do to keep from curling up in a ball and crying. She’d come so close to being caught tonight. Her breathing began to slow and Jewel took stock of her surroundings. It was one of those things she’d learned from being out on the street; never turn your back to an open door and always know where the closest exit is.