“Are you okay?” I shouldn’t have cared. But I did. Henry’s pen scratched against paper. He didn’t look up. I shifted in the squeaky wooden seat. My dress pinched my tender stomach, making me queasy. “I . . . I know what it’s like to lose a parent. I don’t think you ever really get over it. When I lost Ma—”
All through the book, Melissa doubts the strength of her faith, seeing only her insufficiency in the face of her mother's abundance. But this small gesture here speaks volumes. To offer love, compassion, and empathy to one who has shown us none may be seen as weakness in the eyes of the world. But we who are in Christ know it to be the ultimate form of strength--because it is one that does not and cannot come from ourselves.
