The Hope of Hattie Phelan: Volume I

30

Questions

The sun was bright as Aunt Margarette and I knelt in the garden, pulling weeds. It was crazy to think that it had been almost a week since Mr. Rickman's death. I hadn't seen Wally since the funeral, but I did pass their house on the way to Essie's. I dropped off a care basket Aunt Margarette had made for Miss Rebecka, but didn't see him. Miss Rebecka said he was working very hard to keep the farm running. Kenneth had to prepare for going off to seminary in a couple weeks, and Nathan secluded himself even more. David tried to help, but he was only two. Even Miss Rebecka said she stepped in wherever she could.

But Essie was getting hit hard by it. She had been very close to her aunt and uncle, and now that he was gone, I could only imagine the void she was feeling. Even though I didn't understand the loss of an uncle, all I could do was be there for Essie. After all the times she was there for me, it was my turn to help her.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Aunt Margarette asked, looking up at the sky.

I wiped the sweat from my brow, looking up at where she was gazing. It was almost blinding. "Yes," I nodded, wiping my dirt-covered hands on my apron.

"God's creation sure is beautiful."

I looked away. "I guess."

"Hattie," Aunt Margarette asked, her tone inquiring more than her words.

"If God's creation is beautiful and good, why isn't it worth saving?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that God created man and said it was good, but He lets them die," I stated coldly as I yanked a weed out of the ground before tossing it aside. "Why would He let the good things pass away?"

"Because He gave them free choice and they didn't choose Him, and in Him is life."

"But Ma didn't choose to die," I replied. "Colin didn't choose to die. Neither did Mr. Rickman. It is so unfair."

"Who is Colin?" Aunt Margarette asked as tears threatened to fall from my eyes. I hadn't meant to share my name for my baby brother with her.

"My baby brother that died," I said, letting out a shaky breath. "I named him Colin."

"Death is something everyone has to deal with, Hattie. We all live and die."

"But it was too soon," I fought back, not wanting to accept it all. "Too soon for Ma and Colin and Henry. Why did God let us die after Adam and Eve? Why doesn't He do anything about it?"

"But He did, Hattie," Aunt Margarette said, whispering as she knelt beside me. "He sent His Son Jesus to us, who died and rose again. He bore sin and death on His shoulders, taking beatings for us and died a thief's death when He was the Son of God. But that was so that there would be a death and resurrection for us."

"I don't understand," I said. I hadn't heard of people being raised from the dead outside of the Bible and storybooks.

"When we follow Him, we die to our old selves and are resurrected with Christ. We are born again into new life with Jesus."

"But why doesn't God answer prayers?" I asked, turning to Aunt Margarette with frustration. I didn't want to address her previous statement because when she said it, something stirred in my heart. It was a glimmer of something I couldn't explain.

"Yes, He does."

"I prayed to Him, but I feel like He doesn't ever listen to me," I replied, crossing my arms as tears once again filled in my eyes. "I feel like because God doesn't listen to me, Ma, Colin, and Wally's da died."