Read Online Through the Deep Waters by Kim Vogel Sawyer - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kim Vogel Sawyer
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“If you want Him to bless you, you have to make time for Him.”
Dinah flopped back against her pillows, jerking the quilt as she went. Ruthie lost her grip on the fabric. She didn’t know who this God was, but she’d never been blessed. Was it because she hadn’t made time for Him? She pushed the thought aside. If there was a God who gave blessings, He didn’t bestow them on girls raised in brothels.
Ruthie continued to stare at Dinah with sad eyes. Dinah rolled over so she wouldn’t have to see her. “Do whatever it is you’re doing so we can turn out the lamp and go to sleep. We’ll miss the ten o’clock curfew if you don’t hurry.”
For long seconds silence hung in the room. Then Ruthie’s soft voice carried to Dinah’s ears. “Dear God, thank You for another day to work hard and earn my keep. Thank You for giving me the strength to finish my tasks. Help me always do my best and bring You glory. Be with Mama and Papa, Seth, Jonah, Noah, Timothy, Joseph, and little Dinah June. Bless them and keep them safe.” She prayed for each of the staff members by name, asking for various things, including healing for the dishwasher’s husband. “And, dear God, thank You for bringing Dinah to the Clifton Hotel.”
Dinah’s heart skipped a beat. Eyes wide open and unblinking, she held her breath and waited to hear what Ruthie would say next.
“Help her to feel right at home. Let us become good friends. Please give usa good night’s rest and let us awaken fresh and ready to do Your will tomorrow. In Your Son’s name I pray, amen.”
A slight creak followed by a looming shadow on the wall let Dinah know Ruthie had risen from her knees. The light flickered, and then Ruthie’s shadow was swallowed up by darkness. The mattress shifted, and a soft sigh sounded from behind Dinah, along with muffled rustling as Ruthie apparently wriggled into a comfortable position.
Dinah’s chest ached, and she released her long-held breath. She stared unseeing at the wall, tired but too tense to rest, and listened to the nighttime sounds of her new home. Wind whispered through the window. The curtains gently swished against the windowsill. A night bird called. In the room next door, a bedspring popped and someone coughed.
Ruthie whispered, “Good night, Dinah. Sleep well.”
A lump filled Dinah’s throat. Occasionally she’d paused outside her mother’s door and called, “Good night.” Tori had always hollered, “Go to bed already!” No one, not even Rueben, had wished her a good night. And no one had ever prayed for her. She should say, “Good night, Ruthie.” Or “Thank you, Ruthie.” But an unwelcome emotion writhed through her middle, and her tight throat refused to release the words.
Dinah blinked back tears. Why couldn’t she be more like Ruthie? Open. Happy. Kind. Comfortable with herself. She recognized the feeling holding her captive. Envy. After several more seconds, another sigh wafted from Ruthie’s side of the bed. Soon deep breaths let Dinah know the other girl had fallen asleep. But Dinah lay awake, her mind playing over her first day in Florence, Kansas. She remembered the egg man apologizing for startling her. Mr. Irwin scolding her. The smiles and welcomes from the staff members of the hotel. And she remembered Ruthie’s prayer.
She’d watched the other girls at school huddling together at recess to chatter and laugh, sometimes flirting with the boys. They never invited her into their circle, though. She’d longed for a friend, and the idea of having one now created a deep ache in the center of her chest. But she wouldn’t be friends withRuthie. If she opened herself up to this girl—if she told her where she’d been and the things she’d done—Ruthie would run away in shock. And Dinah would be crushed. So even though Ruthie had prayed for them to be good friends, Dinah would make sure it didn’t happen.
She was here to work. To impress Mr. Harvey. To become one of his girls. Maybe
Dinah flopped back against her pillows, jerking the quilt as she went. Ruthie lost her grip on the fabric. She didn’t know who this God was, but she’d never been blessed. Was it because she hadn’t made time for Him? She pushed the thought aside. If there was a God who gave blessings, He didn’t bestow them on girls raised in brothels.
Ruthie continued to stare at Dinah with sad eyes. Dinah rolled over so she wouldn’t have to see her. “Do whatever it is you’re doing so we can turn out the lamp and go to sleep. We’ll miss the ten o’clock curfew if you don’t hurry.”
For long seconds silence hung in the room. Then Ruthie’s soft voice carried to Dinah’s ears. “Dear God, thank You for another day to work hard and earn my keep. Thank You for giving me the strength to finish my tasks. Help me always do my best and bring You glory. Be with Mama and Papa, Seth, Jonah, Noah, Timothy, Joseph, and little Dinah June. Bless them and keep them safe.” She prayed for each of the staff members by name, asking for various things, including healing for the dishwasher’s husband. “And, dear God, thank You for bringing Dinah to the Clifton Hotel.”
Dinah’s heart skipped a beat. Eyes wide open and unblinking, she held her breath and waited to hear what Ruthie would say next.
“Help her to feel right at home. Let us become good friends. Please give usa good night’s rest and let us awaken fresh and ready to do Your will tomorrow. In Your Son’s name I pray, amen.”
A slight creak followed by a looming shadow on the wall let Dinah know Ruthie had risen from her knees. The light flickered, and then Ruthie’s shadow was swallowed up by darkness. The mattress shifted, and a soft sigh sounded from behind Dinah, along with muffled rustling as Ruthie apparently wriggled into a comfortable position.
Dinah’s chest ached, and she released her long-held breath. She stared unseeing at the wall, tired but too tense to rest, and listened to the nighttime sounds of her new home. Wind whispered through the window. The curtains gently swished against the windowsill. A night bird called. In the room next door, a bedspring popped and someone coughed.
Ruthie whispered, “Good night, Dinah. Sleep well.”
A lump filled Dinah’s throat. Occasionally she’d paused outside her mother’s door and called, “Good night.” Tori had always hollered, “Go to bed already!” No one, not even Rueben, had wished her a good night. And no one had ever prayed for her. She should say, “Good night, Ruthie.” Or “Thank you, Ruthie.” But an unwelcome emotion writhed through her middle, and her tight throat refused to release the words.
Dinah blinked back tears. Why couldn’t she be more like Ruthie? Open. Happy. Kind. Comfortable with herself. She recognized the feeling holding her captive. Envy. After several more seconds, another sigh wafted from Ruthie’s side of the bed. Soon deep breaths let Dinah know the other girl had fallen asleep. But Dinah lay awake, her mind playing over her first day in Florence, Kansas. She remembered the egg man apologizing for startling her. Mr. Irwin scolding her. The smiles and welcomes from the staff members of the hotel. And she remembered Ruthie’s prayer.
She’d watched the other girls at school huddling together at recess to chatter and laugh, sometimes flirting with the boys. They never invited her into their circle, though. She’d longed for a friend, and the idea of having one now created a deep ache in the center of her chest. But she wouldn’t be friends withRuthie. If she opened herself up to this girl—if she told her where she’d been and the things she’d done—Ruthie would run away in shock. And Dinah would be crushed. So even though Ruthie had prayed for them to be good friends, Dinah would make sure it didn’t happen.
She was here to work. To impress Mr. Harvey. To become one of his girls. Maybe
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