Miracle Girl , livre ebook

Hawkwood Books - Ellis Delmonte

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104 pages

English

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"That first night wasn't easy. I thought we'd all be relieved to have mum back, and we were, but it wasn't the mum we remembered. She'd changed so much, not just to look at, but in the way she spoke, the way she moved, and inside her, what made her our mum." Rachel's cancer-stricken mother calls her Miracle Girl because so much rests on her young shoulders. But how do you keep calm at the centre of an emotional storm or in control of a world that's fast falling apart? This is Rachel's answer, with strength, compassion, humour and love. Suitable for ages 12 and over.

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Publié par	Hawkwood Books
Date de parution	01 septembre 2011
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781908577092
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0150€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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Table of Contents
Title Page
1 Water to Wine
2 Calming The Storm
3 Feeding The Hungry
4 Ten Plagues
5 Casting Out Demons
6 Healing The Sick
7 Pillar Of Fire
8 Burning Bush
9 Tablets of Stone
10 Walking on Water
11 Manna From Heaven
12 The Bronze Serpent
13 Water From The Rock
14 Parting The Waters
15 Raising The Dead
Miracle Girl
Ellis J. Delmonte

“That first night wasn’t easy. I thought we’d all be relieved to have mum back, and we were, but it wasn’t the mum we remembered. She’d changed so much, not just to look at, but in the way she spoke, the way she moved, and inside her, what made her our mum.”

Rachel’s cancer-stricken mother calls her Miracle Girl because so much rests on her young shoulders. But how do you keep calm at the centre of an emotional storm or in control of a world that’s fast falling apart? This is Rachel’s answer, with strength, compassion, humour and love.

Suitable for ages 12 and over.

Miracle Girl For Ana

Beauty is truth, truth beauty,’- that is all
Ye know on Earth, and all ye need to know.
John Keats

Text copyright©2007 Ellis J. Delmonte
Second Edition 2010
Cover design©Emma-Jane Black
All rights reserved

Epub Revised Edition © 2013 compiled with Jutoh
ISBN: 978-1-908577-09-2

Print Edition ISBN: 978-0-9555096-4-3
The rights of the author have been asserted.

Conditions of Sale
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted
by any means without the permission of the publisher.

Hawkwood Books 2013
1Water to Wine
Mum came downstairs this morning looking anxious and uncertain. I asked her if she was alright, which was a silly question because I could see she wasn’t, but she said she’d be okay. She wandered into the kitchen as if she was half asleep, keeping her balance with one hand against the wall. I thought she might just be tired and would feel better after a cup of coffee.
That was when I heard a crash.
“Mum?”
I found her on the floor, eyes closed, still as death. I held my breath.
“Mum?”
She blinked.
I breathed out.
She didn’t seem to know where she was. I called her again.
“Rachel?” she answered, “what’s going on? Help me up.”
I lifted her, which wasn’t easy. She shouldn’t have been heavy because she’s slim, but she had no strength to help herself. I sat her in a chair and gave her a glass of water. She sipped it slowly, her hand trembling.
“Better?” I asked, although I could see she wasn’t better at all; she was white as anything and still trembling.
I wasn’t sure what to do, but mum nodded gently and said, “Rachel, you’re a treasure. You know that don’t you?”
I didn’t know that at all and wondered why she’d said it to me.
“What happened?” I asked. “You’re not pregnant or anything, are you?”
She smiled, but not her normal bright and breezy one.
“I’m something,” she said, “but I don’t know what. Don’t you worry, Rachel, I’ll be alright.”
I sat with her and watched her drink.
“You just want water?” I asked her.
She looked at me in a funny way and said, “Tastes like wine when you give it to me, Rachel, my lovely daughter. Water’s perfect.”
I thought about this, and though I couldn’t change water into wine, I knew what she meant. I’m not a great daughter at all. I do stupid things and I can be selfish like anyone. I’m just ordinary. I’ve given mum and dad grief, too, not on purpose, but because it just happens. They still seem to like me, and mum sometimes looks at me as if I was so special, I get embarrassed. She looked at me like that then, with her green eyes full of affection. I gave her a cuddle and said, “Shall I call the doctor?”
She shook her head.
“I’ll be alright soon, Rachel. Best get yourself ready for school.”
Dad had already left for work. He works in a great big office in a great big glass building, which doesn’t tell you much, but it’s all I know. He doesn’t say a lot about it, except that it ‘pays the rent’, but then he doesn’t say a lot about anything. Keeps most things to himself, does dad. I wondered whether I should call him and say that mum wasn’t well.
“I know what you’re thinking, Rachel,” mum said. “No need to tell dad. I’ll be okay, really. Get yourself ready and see how Baz is doing, too.”
I don’t know how she does this. Maybe when you become a mum your mind gets joined to your kids, like Siamese twins. I could never lie to her, not even a white one, she’d know.
I did what she wanted, got myself ready, and told Baz to hurry up. Baz is six and a bundle of energy. He was playing with some of his toys when I went in.
“Suds! What are you doing?”
I suppose it’s too hard for you to guess why we call him Suds? It’s all to do with connections. His name is Baz, right, and Baz rhymes with a well known washing powder - can you see where I’m going? Anyway, he looks like a soap sud, all soft and bubbly.
“Playing,” he answered.
“You have to stop and get dressed. I’ll take you to school this morning. Mum’s not well.”
“What’s the matter with her?”
I told him she’d fainted, but kids want to know every detail and you can’t tell them because either the questions go on forever or you don’t know the answer. Like now. Baz is alright though, he’s no trouble, so I trusted him to get himself ready for school. I could take him easily enough, it’s only a two minute walk away.
When we left, mum was still sitting in the kitchen.
“You want me to stay at home, mum?” I asked.
She didn’t. She kissed us both and said she’d be fine, not to worry.
Baz held my hand and didn’t say a word about mum on the way to school. Maybe he wasn’t thinking about her, but I was. I had this horrible feeling and the more I tried to get rid of it the more it stayed there and bothered me. I was afraid, you see, and I didn’t know why. Here I was taking my adorable little brother to school on an ordinary day in May, it was warm and Springy and everything was as it was supposed to be, and yet my mum had collapsed for some reason and I’d left her at home looking white as a sheet. She was going to be okay, for sure, but I was still afraid. Silly, I know, but that’s how I felt.
After I left Baz, I set off to my own school, which is about ten minutes away. I normally meet Jen, my best friend, but not if I drop Baz off, that’s a different direction, and anyway, I was late.
I took out my mobile and called nan. Nan’s real name is Michaela, which is a lovely name if you’re twenty and beautiful, and nan was beautiful, in a way, but she wasn’t young any more.
“Nan?”
“Rachel! What’s going on? Shouldn’t you be at school?”
“I’m on my way, nan. It’s just…” and then for no reason, I started crying. I hate doing that, especially in the street, I feel so stupid, and there wasn’t a reason, but I did it anyway.
“Rachel, what’s happened? Are you in trouble?”
“No, nan,” I said. “I’m fine. It’s mum,” and I told her what had happened in the kitchen. She told me not to worry and said she’d pop round and see mum straight away.
“Shall I call dad?” I asked.
“No, love. It’s probably nothing. I’ll go. You just get on with school and you’ll see, she’ll be fine tonight. You did the right thing to call me, though. Your mum can be stubborn when she wants to be.”
That was true, but so could I, and so could nan. It ran in the family.
Jen knew something was wrong when we met at school. I wasn’t going to say anything, but when someone knows you and likes you, they can tell. Same as mums and kids. I think I must have been in shock.
“You okay?” asked Jen. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Raich.”
I wasn’t sure what I’d seen. I saw my mum on the floor and that was like, well, worse than all the worst news stories you ever heard wrapped up together. News is bad, and you want to do something to change it all, but you can’t, not really, it’s all too big. But seeing your mum lying there, my mum, my lovely, special, one and only mum, I felt like I was having my own little earthquake. Everything seemed to shift a bit, as if I was looking at the world in a different way, like through the wrong end of a pair of binoculars. None of it seemed real, and even if it did, it was a long way away. It made no sense. Mum was probably fine. But you see, she’s strong, she works hard and she’s always there for me and Suds, of course for Suds, he’s only small, and to see her so still and helpless, even though it was only for a few seconds, I was scared. But like I say, she’ll be alright. Nan will sort it out.
I told Jen what had happened. I wasn’t going to, but I had to. If I didn’t, it would have built up inside me and I’d have been even more miserable and lonely. Jen listened. She always listens. She doesn’t do it like a lot of people do, pretending, just to be polite, she really takes notice of what you’re saying and remembers it. We didn’t know each other before we came to this school, but as soon as we met we got on.
She gave me a hug when I told her because she could see I was crying inside, and when she hugged me I started crying outside, too. “I’m so stupid!” I said.
“No, you’re not,” said Jen. “I’d go spare if my mum did that. It’s probably something ordinary, Rachel, like amoebia.”
“Anaemia,” I said, and we laughed, but it wasn’t a belly laugh, just a relief laugh, and there’s a difference.
I couldn’t concentrate on anything. We’re putting on a performance of Macbeth in July, and I’m Lady Macbeth. We had a rehearsal that day, but Mr. Ferris, he’s the drama teacher, could see I wasn’t up to it. He asked me what was going on but I couldn’t tell him. There was nothing to tell, yet. Jen came to my rescue. Jen’s playing Lady Macduff, which isn’t a big part because she gets murdered pretty much as soon as she shows up, but she said something to Mr. Ferris and he went on to rehearse different parts of the play.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not making a fuss, it was just the way I reacted. I hate making a fuss about anything and I made Jen promise she wouldn’t tell anyone. I thought she’d told Mr. Ferris, but she hadn’t. I don’t know wha