Clarissa nodded vigorously, and wisps of delicate blond hair bounced
under her woolen cap. Already her little nose was pink with cold, but her
beautiful almond-shaped eyes danced. She loved Fridays when they visited
Grandma Patty Carlson before going home. There would be hot chocolate
and cookies with her favorite pink sprinkles.
Jane parked outside the white house with fading green shutters. Please
let him not be there!
she whispered. This was a day to have treats inside,
not on Grandma Patty's porch.
A chill that had nothing to do with an Iowa February clutched at her
heart. Four years earlier she had walked up to this house with her baby
wrapped in a pink blanket. Surely Kevin's parents would accept them, even
though their dreams for their only son had not included her. Even though
this grandchild had been born with one chromosome too many.
A flash of light, a sickening screech of brakes, and Kevin was dead--only
two weeks after the wedding. He was never to meet his beautiful little girl
J
ane held four-year-old Clarissa's hand tightly
as they left the day care center and stepped out
onto Chatham Street. The dingy snowpack had
begun to melt, turning sidewalks treacherous.
"Did you have fun in school today?" Jane asked, wrapping
the toddler's scarf more securely around her neck.
14
The War Cry | FEBRUARY 2014
Illustration Julia Breckenreid
by
LT. COLONEL
MARLENE CHASE
Clarissa's
Valentine