* The Hope Chest

"Can I come with you?"
"No."
"Oh please can I come with you?"
"No."
"I'll be good, I promise."

It was dark out.  It was cold.  It was just before Christmas.  Billy had built Connie a cedar chest, a 'hope' chest.  He was proud and excited.  He was taking it to her in the back of the truck.

"PLUULEESE.?
"Oh, alright, but you have to stay in the truck!"
His voice was gruff.  He had given in.  He didn't want me there.
I went anyway, happy for any morsel of himself he was willing to share.
A short drive.  Not a word spoken.

We pulled up in front of the house.  The lights were on.  It looked warm and welcoming inside.  The cat was laying on the cot beside the front door.  I could see Aunty Molly.

The door slammed.  The hope chest taken in.  I stood up so I could see better, but I wasn't witness to the giving, the love.

I waited.  It was cold.  Finally the door opened and Billy climbed in.  We drove home in silence.  I took what I could.  I put it safely in my heart.  I stored it there along with a box of hope.  I was five.  I knew it would be alright in the end.  He would love me.  I just knew it!