More Than Words: Stories of Hope

by Diana Palmer; Kasey Michaels; Catherine Mann

  Warmth flooded through her. “I never expected that people would be so kind to me, when I was about as low on the social ladder as a person could get. Even the people I work for have been supportive and generous. And you were the best surprise of all,” she said softly.

  “Right back at you,” he said gruffly.

  She laid back on the pillows. “Thank you, Matt, for everything. And you’ll be happy to know I’m listening to the doctor. I’ll speak with my employers when I get out of here. And I will slow down.”

  “That’s a really good idea,” he mused. “I’ll be back with the kids first thing tomorrow.”

  After Mary kissed the kids good-night and exchanged a highly charged look with Matt that was ripe with possibilities of what the future could hold, she was left alone to rest. Closing her eyes, she thought about the changes she was going to have to make. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad after all, slowing down. Well, slowing down just a little, she amended.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Mary had a long talk with three of her employers about giving up her work. They were nice, but she knew they didn’t really understand why Mary had to quit working for them.

  One asked if the money wasn’t enough, and offered a substantial raise if Mary would stay on.

  That was just too hard to turn down. Mary agreed to stay, but she was adamant about the other two jobs. She explained that if she had another stress attack, it could be much worse, and she had her kids to think about. She had to stay healthy so that she could get them all through school. Her doctor had insisted that she had to give up some work. In the end, they accepted her decision and even gave her severance pay.

  Matt was delighted that she was following doctor’s orders. “We get to keep you around for a while, right, kids?” he asked them when they were all enjoying hamburgers after a particularly great fantasy movie on their Saturday out.

  “Right!” they chorused.

  “It’s been a super evening, Matt. Thanks again.”

  He smiled warmly at her. “It’s only the second of many,” he said easily, finishing his hamburger. “I see a pleasant future for us.”

  “Us?” she teased lightly.

  “Us,” he agreed. “We’ll be best friends for a couple of years and then I’ll follow you around Phoenix on one knee with a ring in my hand until you say yes.”

  She laughed delightedly. “I just might hold you to that,” she murmured.

  “We can carry your bouquet,” Ann enthused.

  “And tie tin cans to the bumper of the car we haven’t got yet,” Bob added, tongue-in-cheek.

  “We can take care of him when he’s sick,” Ann added in her sensible way.

  Matt gave Ann a beaming smile. “And I can take care of all of you, when you need it.”

  “I might be a policeman one day myself,” Bob mused.

  It was nice to see that the children liked Matt as much as she did. It wasn’t wise to look too far down unknown roads. But she felt comfortable and secure with Matt. So did the children. He was truly one of a kind. She had a feeling that it would all work out just perfectly one day.

  “Deep thoughts?” Matt mused.

  “Very nice ones, too,” she replied, and she smiled at him.

  Her new job was more fulfilling than anything she’d done in her life. She felt a sense of accomplishment when she and her volunteers—many of them, now—carried food to the legions of hungry people around town.

  More newspaper interviews had followed, including stories about her co-workers, which made her feel like part of a large, generous family. Which, in effect, the food bank was.

  “You know,” she told Tom one afternoon, “I never dreamed that I’d be doing this sort of job. It’s like a dream come true.”

  “I understand how you feel,” he replied, smiling. “All of us who became involved in this work are better people for having been able to do it. The more we give, the more we receive. And not just in material ways.”

  “Yes,” she said. “There’s no greater gift than that of giving to other people.”

  He nodded.

  She glanced at her watch and gasped. “Goodness, I have to get on the road! Mr. Harvey, did I ever tell you how grateful I am to have this job?”

  “Only about six times a day,” he murmured dryly. “We’re happy to have you working for us, Mary.”

  “I’ll get on my rounds. Good night, Mr. Harvey.”

  He smiled. “Good night, Mary.”

  She went out the door with a list of her pickups and deliveries in one hand, her mind already on the evening’s work. Matt was on duty tonight, Bob and Ann were at sports competitions, John was with Tammy, who’d agreed to pick up Bob and Ann at the games—her kids were playing, as well. Mary could pick them up on the way home.

  Home. She thought of the neat little house she was now living in with her kids, rent free, and of the nice used compact car she’d been able to afford. It didn’t seem very far away that she and the children had been living on the streets, with no money, no home, no car and no prospects. Life had looked very sad back then.

  But now she was rich, in so many ways that had little to do with money. She waved to the volunteer staff standing by their own vehicles, waiting for her to lead the way. How far she’d come, from taking a little leftover food from a restaurant and delivering it to one or two clients.

  Her heart raced as she climbed in behind the wheel. She started the car and drove off, leading the others out to the highway. There would be a lot of deliveries tonight, a lot of people to help. She felt as if she could float on air. She’d not only survived life at the bottom, she’d bounced back like a happy rubber ball to an even better place.

  The future looked very bright. Life was good.

  Dear Reader,

  One of the greatest pleasures of my life was doing this story for Harlequin, especially in the company of other such gifted authors. My contribution, “The Greatest Gift,” tells the story of Sue Cobley, a big-hearted, generous, compassionate woman who put her own troubles aside to do something for people she considered in worse straits than she was herself. It lifts the heart to see how one person can make such a huge difference in the world, just by putting other people first.

  In our busy and hectic lives, sometimes we fail to think about people who need help. It is more than an obligation to help people in need, it is one of the greatest joys in life. Sue Cobley inspired me to get more involved with programs that do good in our communities. I hope that her story will inspire you, too. You don’t have to be a millionaire to change the world. You just have to have the desire. Thanks, Sue Cobley, for the wonderful things you have done for others. And the example you have set for us all.

  DEB FRUEND

  TEAM ACTIVITIES FOR SPECIAL KIDS

  Few would deny that Deb Fruend is busy. When she’s not putting in eight-hour days as an adaptive physical education instructor for the Special School District of St. Louis County, she’s spending evenings on the basketball court, soccer field and even the bowling alley running TASK—Team Activities for Special Kids.

  But ask Deb what drives her to burn the midnight oil and she barely misses a beat.

  “The kids,” she says simply. “It’s the look in kids’ eyes when they accomplish something they haven’t been able to do before. It’s the look in their eyes when they know someone believes in them.”

  Yet when Deb first launched TASK back in 1996, she was also thinking of the parents. Sitting in on education meetings with parents of special needs kids, she kept hearing the same refrain.

  “My child doesn’t have anywhere to play a sport,” the clearly frustrated parents would say.

  Finally Deb decided to do something about it. She formed an instructional T-ball league specifically for special needs kids who were itching to be athletes like their brothers, sisters and friends.

  “When we started we had one little sport. It was just a bunch of kids on a church field. We’ve come a long way,” she says.

  That’s
no exaggeration. Today TASK offers twelve sports to special needs kids in the St. Louis area—basketball, bowling, coach-pitch softball, dance, floor hockey, golf, soccer, softball, swimming, T-ball, tennis and volleyball. More than 200 volunteers, from teachers to physical therapists and speech and language pathologists, work with over 800 kids to help them with anything from how to do the butterfly stroke to learning how to play as a team. Each sport focuses on learning and practicing athletic and interpersonal skills, with an emphasis on teamwork and good sportsmanship.

  Sports are often tailored to match the abilities of players. For instance, in modified softball, batters are allowed five strikes instead of three. Swimming classes include one called “terrified of water” for children who have an extreme reaction to water and do not like to swim.

  The kids’ needs run the gamut from visual impairment to learning disabilities, mental disabilities, Down syndrome, behavioral concerns and autism. No child is ever turned away. With such a wide range of abilities, not to mention ages, it’s no wonder Deb has her work cut out for her, matching the right kids with each team. But, says Deb, playing a sport is more about developing self-worth and accepting others than it is about playing to win.

  “I wanted to create a league atmosphere so the kids could feel good about themselves. I wanted them to say, ‘My sister has a game this weekend. Well, I’ve got a game this Saturday, too,’” she says.

  Building esteem

  TASK is about helping kids feel they belong. Before Deb’s work with the organization, parents often complained that their children were struggling out on the field or on the court. Other parents were yelling at the child because he didn’t seem to be listening to the coach. The other kids yelled at him because he wasn’t running fast enough.

  TASK has a motto: we build self-esteem, self-esteem builds confidence, confidence builds skill.

  And that is exactly what seems to happen, says Deb, a firm believer in the benefits gained from team activities, including the development of self-esteem, physical coordination, cooperation skills and other critical life skills.

  “If the kids feel good about themselves they’re going to try harder. If they try harder they’re going to do better,” she maintains.

  Kids who are part of TASK also build esteem by developing relationship skills. Many become close friends away from the league, sometimes driving an hour to visit each other at home or watch a movie together. These children probably never would have met if it had not been for TASK.

  To help these relationships grow, TASK has branched out to create a Kids’ Club and Social Club so the children can find new buddies and socialize. Then there’s also TASK Summer Camp, a week-long program offered to kids with special physical and mental concerns. The campers enjoy what other camp kids have always taken for granted: assembling crafts, taking a dip, bike riding and making new friends.

  “It’s amazing to me how excited a child can get whenever they’ve accomplished something and they feel they are part of a team. What does belonging mean to a special needs child?” Deb asks. “Everything. Absolutely everything.”

  The parents also become good friends while watching their kids score goals or learn to bowl.

  Off the field

  While TASK athletes certainly learn skills that come in handy while dribbling a ball or passing the puck to a teammate, Deb says many of the more important skills are transferred to everyday life.

  One of her favorite stories revolves around a boy who is adamant that he call her “Miss Fruend” while in school and “Deb” during TASK events. One afternoon he ran up to her in the school’s hallway. He was beaming.

  “Miss Fruend! I just came in from recess and I scored three soccer goals,” he said.

  “You did?” Deb asked.

  “Yes, and I was picked fourth,” the boy answered. “Last year they didn’t pick me at all.”

  Then her student turned, looked up at Deb and simply said, “Thanks.”

  Deb says she’s lucky to be a teacher to some of her TASK kids. She can see the benefits of the program spilling out into recess, during phys-ed classes and even at home. Some parents claim that since joining TASK, their kids have become more responsible, doing their chores more often because they know they can accomplish a goal if they try. When kids believe in themselves, their confidence blooms, and Deb couldn’t be happier.

  “That’s what we stand to do—help these kids be the best that they can be. They get knocked down a lot, but this is a way for them to shine. That’s what keeps me going,” says Deb.

  Not surprisingly, it all comes back to the kids.

  For more information visit www.tasksports.org or write to Team Activities for Special Kids, 11139 South Towne Square, Suite D, St. Louis, MO 63123.

  KASEY MICHAELS

  HERE COME THE HEROES

  KASEY MICHAELS

  The hallmarks of New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Kasey Michaels’ writing are humor, romance and happy endings. She is the author of over 100 books and has received a trio of coveted starred reviews from Publishers Weekly. She is also a recipient of a RITA® Award from Romance Writers of America, a Waldenbooks and BookRak Bestseller Award, and many awards from RT Book Reviews magazine, including a Career Achievement Award for her Regency-era historical romances. Kasey and her husband live in Pennsylvania. Each summer her entire family volunteers with the golf tournament her son founded to benefit the Gift of Life Donor Program of Philadelphia. Monies raised contribute to the costs of transporting the youngest members of Team Philadelphia to the annual Transplant Olympics.

  CHAPTER ONE

  The fourth house down from the corner and on the east side of Redbud Lane looked very much like the other houses in the small, rural Pennsylvania development, except that maybe the cars in the driveway were a few years older than those of the neighbors, and the trim around the windows could probably use a fresh coat of paint. Otherwise, there were no real outward signs that for the past several years life had been a financial struggle for the Finnegans.

  Inside the three-bedroom ranch house, the television set might be older, the couches in the family room more broken than broken-in, the second mortgage a little larger, but the Finnegans didn’t care. They’d been in a battle—a rough one and a long one—and they’d come out winners. Charlie was still with them.

  Unfortunately, tension was also in residence in the white brick house on Redbud Lane; it had moved in when Charlie got sick, seemed to like the place, and now was reluctant to leave.

  “Charlie, please slow down,” Laura Finnegan said as her son shoved another forkful of roast beef into his mouth. The family was sitting around the kitchen table, the afternoon sun streaming in through the large window overlooking a fenced backyard that sported its own home plate and makeshift baseball diamond. “We’ve still got plenty of time.”

  “Do I have to go, Mom? I don’t understand why I have to go.” Nine-year-old Sarah Finnegan, with her father’s sandy hair and his stubborn streak, too, had strong opinions on the subject of being dragged along to baseball practice every night for the past two weeks, none of them good. “I’ll bet I could stay at Brenda’s house. Her mom won’t mind. She almost never minds.”

  “Oh, honey, I know. But not tonight.” Laura tried to pretend she wasn’t planning to use her own daughter as a buffer if things got too bad—Jake was always careful not to go ballistic around the kids. Then again, she also was less likely to let her emotions control her mouth and, yes, her tears, if she knew the kids were within earshot. After all, in the past couple of years she and Jake had both had a lot of practice in hiding their emotions, their fears, their anger when the terror had threatened to devour them.

  To some, they’d survived their ordeal and should just be grateful and move on. But the Finnegan family couldn’t do that. Nothing was the same now, and they had changed, too. They could only move on, carrying all the baggage that had been heaped on them, do their best to learn to live with that baggage. Memories. Fears. Un
certainty. And, yes, tension. Always, always that tension that hung around, refusing to leave, that feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  Like tonight. Tonight wasn’t going to be pretty. Tonight both she and Jake knew what was coming, even if one didn’t want to admit it and the other didn’t want to have to watch it. When was enough enough? When did it become too much? And, damn it all anyway, why wouldn’t it just, please, stop?

  “Ah, come on, Mom. Please?”

  “Sarah, honey, I said no. We’re all going to be there tonight to root Charlie on, right?”

  “Can’t I root now, and stay home and play video games with Brenda?” Sarah pulled a face, looking very much like her father, which was usually a good thing for her. That look tended to wrap Laura around her little finger. But not tonight.

  “We’re all going, Sarah. For moral support.” As she spoke, Laura looked across the dinner table at her husband, trying to signal him with her raised eyebrows: This isn’t going to be good. You know it, I know it. Say something!

  Jake didn’t seem to be getting the message or, if he had gotten it, was ignoring it. “You’ve got second base cold, Charlie, don’t sweat it. If not first team, then second. I know the bat’s been a bit of a problem, but we’ll work on that.”

  Laura shut her eyes. Why did she always have to be the bad guy? When did Dad and Mom turn into Good Cop, Bad Cop? “Charlie, you do realize that the coach is going to cut at least six players tonight, right? I want you to be prepared…just in case everything doesn’t go the way we hope.” Life isn’t always fair, my sweet baby boy. Sometimes you win and sometimes you lose. The luck of the draw is just that and, oh yeah, Coach Billig is a card-carrying jerk. She didn’t say any of that as she looked at her earnest fourteen-year-old son. But she thought it.