The next morning was bright and cheerful and I went to the kitchen singing a little song that was going around and around in my head. As I made breakfast I wondered why the kids were looking at me funny.
Then I realized I wasn’t singing English words, they were in a foreign language and I didn’t know any other languages!
I poured a cup of coffee and sat down heavily at the kitchen table. My knees were weak.
“What’s going on here?” asked Jim coming into the kitchen from outside. He looked at me with concern written all over his anxious face. “We’re worried about you, what were you singing?”
“And what happened to you last night?” said Kaity, the oldest of the three kids. Kaity, blond, blue eyed and just beginning to bloom at thirteen was concerned with what people thought of her and her family. It didn’t help that she had just met a couple of girls at school that also went to the church and she didn’t want people to think her mother was crazy.
“Whatever do you mean?” I said my eyes wide with innocence, putting off the foreign language singing thing, “it’s a beautiful Saturday morning. What a glorious day look at the sunshine, just remember though, it’s still cold outside so bundle up.”
Jim looked at me and then at the kids, then we all turned and looked out the window to where the rain was pouring down and puddles were forming all over the yard; especially under the old apple tree.