Valerie's Letters to God: A Spiritual Journey

By Alice Ann Ross

The first book took Valerie through a demoralizing divorce, hate crimes, her mothers Alzheimers disease and being condemned by her daughter. Valerie kept her eyes on the future. She entered the university at the age of forty-four to study Comparative Religions and fell in love with Uriah Wexler, from Israel, her professor in Christian Ethics. She set out to educate against hatred and misunderstanding amongst the three major monotheistic religionsJudaism, Christianity and Islam. This is Vals story from devastation, to a career on the lecture circuit teaching tolerance and acceptance and finding the deep abiding love she thought would never be hers.

This second book fills in the gaps and tells the rest of Vals story from beginning to end. Also included in this book are four short stories I hope you enjoy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 31, 2013
• ISBN: 9781479778768

Alice Ann Ross

As a violinist and vocalist, the focal point of my life was music until neuropathy robbed me of the ability to play. At a loss for how to fill the void I decided to go to my second love—writing. I’ve written speeches and essays most of my life, but never fiction. I published my first novella two years ago. This book is the rest of Valerie’s story—plus four short stories for your enjoyment.

Book preview

Valerie’s Letters to God

A Spiritual Journey

By Alice Ann Ross

—Plus—

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Copyright © 2013 by Alice Ann Ross.

ISBN:                 Softcover                 978-1-4797-7875-1

                           Ebook                     978-1-4797-7876-8

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without permission in writing from the author.

These stories are primarily works of fiction. Any references to historical events; to real people, living or dead; or to locales are intended to give the fiction a setting in historical reality. Other names, characters, places, or incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to real-life counterparts is entirely coincidental.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

128344

Contents

Valerie’s Letters to God

Foreword

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Annie’s Dream

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Mazzetti’s

The House on the Beach

Epilogue:

MorrowVille

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

With appreciation, for all their help and encouragement, to my Tuesday Writer’s Workshop, Puyallup, WA.

Valerie’s Letters to God

A Spiritual Journey

Foreword

Daniel Uriah, please slow down. I know I’m ninety-two and can’t live forever, but I have no desire to die in your car this night, Valerie told her twenty-two year old great grandson.

Sorry, Grandma! Danny said. He was notorious for all his speeding tickets.

Danny was driving Grandma Val home after the party in Boston. The city gave her an award for humanitarian efforts that covered a span of over fifty years. Valerie taught against prejudice and intolerance her entire life, especially in the area of religion.

It was a wonderful affair, wasn’t it? I can’t believe it was all for me.

Why not? You deserved it Grandma!

Danny helped Val inside and made sure she was settled for the night until her housekeeper came in the morning.

I’m fine Danny—just a little tired. I’m not used to all this hoopla, you know. Thanks for the ride even though it was a bit brisk.

Take care Grandma. I love you, Danny said and left.

~~~~~~~

She slowly climbed the stairs and prepared for anticipated sleep. While lying in bed she thought about how comfortable she had become with God. It took a long time to get to this place. A journey filled with questions, doubts and trying to believe what the church taught, but never succeeding. Val felt on the outside—looking in, most of her life.

Valerie finally accepted herself and her faith absolutely and she knew God loved her unconditionally.

There were plenty of disappointments, sadness and losses throughout, but her life had been remarkable and Val was grateful.

While lying there, finally able to relax, she wrote a mental letter to God. Val had been communicating with God in this way since she was a tiny girl.

Dear God,

I’ve talked to You all my life. Without You with me

in the dark times, I couldn’t have accomplished a thing.

My heart has always been full of You.

It’s been quite a ride. Thank You.

Love, Valerie

It was a nice party, but she was tired. Getting an award for sharing how she found her path to God had been a privilege. Val closed her eyes with a smile on her lips.

She heard the sound of jacks thrown on a linoleum floor that took her back to the beginning . . .

Chapter 1

Her mother’s voice grumbled, Will you stop with all the questions! You came out of the womb asking why! You drive me crazy! Why can’t you be more like Rachel?

It was the year 1922 and five-year-old Valerie sat on the floor playing with her jacks. She looked up at her mother and wondered what she had done wrong. She was a cute little thing with light red hair and huge blue eyes. If she asked why again her mother would holler. She didn’t mean to upset her mother, but Valerie wanted to know everything. Her sister was three years older and it seemed to Val that her mother never yelled at Rachel and she couldn’t understand why. Maybe it was because Rachel wasn’t curious about anything and rarely asked questions.

The sisters shared a room and a double bed from the time Val graduated from her crib when she was three. Many times while lying in that bed they heard their parents yelling at each other—swearing, threatening to leave and screaming, I hate you!

Val took her pillow and pulled it up over both ears trying to block out the terrible angry words. The tears tumbled out of her big eyes and ran down her temples. It hurt to hear them. She felt her heart would break listening to her parent’s battles and decided the only one she could turn to was God. The mental letters to Him whenever she was upset started then.

Dear God,

Please make them stop fighting!

Love, Valerie

They never stopped and Val was disappointed.

~~~~~~~

Sharing a room and a bed didn’t alleviate the tension between the sisters and they partitioned the double bed with an imaginary line down the middle. It was not a good idea to let your foot wander over that line unless you were prepared to be kicked. The sisters slept together until Rachel left for college. It’s amazing they didn’t kill one another!

~~~~~~~

Dealing with her mother’s dissatisfaction was never easy. The 1924 Annual Christmas Pageant turned out to be one of those ill-fated times. Long before Christmas Valerie tried to convince her mother not to force her to play a duet with that dumb Norma Jean Muncie.

But Mom, I don’t want to play with her. She can’t even play good. She stinks!

Valerie Elaine Frazer! That’s not a nice way to talk!

Val was seven years old and considered quite advanced for her age. She started playing music the year before in the first grade. It was not easy to learn the violin. The sound the instrument made when the bow was pulled across catgut strings could not be considered music and Val wanted to make beautiful music more than anything. She practiced and practiced to make her violin sound better. The desire to make music was strong enough in Valerie to keep playing in spite of the complaints from the whole family. It wasn’t always her assigned lessons, however. A neighbor gave her a pile of piano music with wonderful melodies. Val picked out the melodies from the strange looking piano music and got lost in the miracle of Strauss waltzes.

By the time Christmas Eve arrived, Valerie knew her part backward and forward. She hoped Norma Jean had practiced, although she didn’t think it would do any good. A new dress was purchased, a rare thing for her. She thought it was beautiful. It was dark green velvet with long puffy sleeves and a red bow. Her mother told her she looked best in green since she had red hair. In time Val grew sick of green.

The moment was at hand. Val and Norma Jean started their rendition of Good King Wenceslas. Mistake after mistake came from Norma Jean’s cello. Right in the middle of the piece the E string on Val’s violin broke, snapped and smacked her in the face. It startled and embarrassed her so much she ran off the stage and left poor Norma Jean to finish Good King Wenceslas playing nothing but the harmony. It was horrible!

What is the matter with you? That was not a nice thing to do. You shouldn’t have left that poor girl up there alone. You could have still played a few notes. I’m ashamed of you! her mother hissed.

As far as Val was concerned, in her seven-year-old wisdom, after Norma Jean made all those mistakes—she deserved to be left up there alone.

Why did you make me play in the first place? I told you I didn’t want to! Val bawled. She knew it was wrong to run off the stage, but would choke to death before she’d admit it to her mother.

Do not talk back to me, young lady. Go to your room. (Valerie’s later estimation—she was banished to her room 1,673,128 times.)

~~~~~~

Of course, there were happy times to be remembered. There were trips to downtown Boston and the annual picnics at the fairgrounds with all the aunts, uncles and cousins. Everyone brought food and placed their offerings on a huge picnic table. No one knew what the others were bringing, but it always turned out a tasty balanced feast with just the right amount of sandwiches, salads, fruits and desserts. Oh, and watermelon! There was always watermelon in a tub of ice. The women brought lots of saltshakers. You couldn’t eat watermelon without salt in the Frazer family. Valerie thought it was against the law.

~~~~~~~

Valerie and Rachel stayed two weeks every summer with Great Uncle Roy on his small dairy farm in upstate New York. Rachel stayed indoors with Aunt Lucille while Val stuck to Uncle Roy like glue and loved all the animals. There was Charlie the draft horse, Sow-Sow the pet pig, Limp-Along the three-legged dog, all the milk-cows and one goat.

Uncle Roy also had chickens, ducks and geese. He gave Val a newly hatched chick one day. She never had a pet before and thought it was the cutest thing in the whole world. She named it Donald. Uncle Roy neglected to tell Val the chick was not well and would die soon.

When Val found Donald dead in his bed made from an old cigar box, she screamed, took off running and ran through the orchard into the woods. She ran until she couldn’t breathe and fell face down in wildflowers.

Dear God,

Is Donald with You?

Love, Valerie

Chapter 2

Valerie lived in Amiable, Massachusetts all her life. Her grandparents owned a neighborhood grocery store at the end of Andover Street during her youth. When they retired, Val’s parents took over and expanded one side of the store to include a soda fountain and lunch counter. It was a huge success with the high school and college crowd.

When they built the A & P in the area, the little grocery felt the repercussions and closed down, but the soda fountain continued in great form. Valerie’s mom and dad turned the old grocery area into a restaurant specializing in American cuisine. The menu read like a travel log—Louisiana Ribs, New England Chowder and Chicago Deep Dish Pizza. The restaurant and fountain are still there, although her mother, Ruth, sold it when Val’s father died.

Amiable is located about thirty-five miles north of Boston nestled between rolling wooded hills. It looks like a postcard of a New England town with tree-lined streets and a small liberal-arts school—Thomas Jefferson University. They called it TJU.

As is usual in Massachusetts’s towns, there’s a church on every corner. The Frazer’s went to Amiable First Baptist Church. Val and her sister Rachel went to Sunday school every week. Their teacher’s name was Mrs. Church, which Val thought was hilarious.

All went agreeably until Valerie reached the age of reason, which in her case came at eight years. What could be done with this precocious girl who continually asked questions? Her poor mother had no idea.

If God made everything, why did He make hell? Why didn’t He kill the devil? Why are Chinese people going to hell? Why is it a sin to dance, unless you’re on skates? What’s wrong with going to the movies?

Her mother was frustrated and Valerie felt the consequences of her annoyance many, many times.

Dear God,

Why doesn’t my mom like me?

Love, Valerie

~~~~~~~

Rachel and her friend Margie told Val to go home. She was not old enough to play with them, they said. After all, they were almost ten years old. Val trudged toward home—head down—kicking stones on the sidewalk. Some boys from the next block saw her and yelled, Saucers, Saucers! She’s got eyes as big as saucers. They laughed as if that was the funniest joke ever known.

She finally looked up a few doors from her house and saw her grandma’s car parked in front. Breaking into a full gallop, Val ran into the house, slamming the door against the wall and jumped on her grandma’s lap. She was Val’s’ favorite person in the whole world.

How’s my pretty girl? her grandma asked. Grandma was the only one who ever told her she was pretty.

"Rachael and Margie won’t let me play with them and those dumb boys from Irving Street called me Saucers again."

Don’t you pay any attention to them, honey. Someday you’ll be glad to have great big blue eyes, her grandma said and squeezed her tight.

Val wished for the millionth time that her grandma could be her mother.

~~~~~~~

One incident etched permanently in Val’s mind happened when she was ten. The lady who lived on the corner of their block threw a Halloween party for the neighborhood kids that year. Her twin cousins, Mary and Martha, lived a few doors up the street from their house. Her Aunt Laura showed Val the costumes she’d made for her girls. Mary and Martha were going to be daisies. Their faces were the center of the daisy with white petals going all around. The costumes even had little tutu skirts.

Val’s mother dressed her up in her father’s navy uniform. The bottoms were tied-up with an old rope. Then Ruth burned a cork with a match and gave Val a black eye by rubbing the blackened cork against her skin.

I hate this, Val blubbered. If I have to wear this, I’m not going! Everyone will make fun of me.

"You are going with Rachel and that’s final. People are supposed to laugh. It’s a costume party for goodness sake," her mother said annoyed once more.

Walking down the sidewalk to the party with her sister was gut wrenching. Val was convinced people in the houses they passed were peering out their windows and snickering at her. If she was a daisy they wouldn’t laugh, she thought. Val wanted the sidewalk to swallow her.

When they got to the party, her cousins, Mary and Martha, were already there in their tutus and daisy heads.

Hey, look at the swabby with a black eye, the kids all yelled and doubled over when they saw her. Val wanted to die.

Mrs. Morgan said, Val you look soooo cute! She knew the lady was trying to be nice, but it didn’t help and Val disappeared into a corner and sat on the floor.

Come on honey. Don’t you want to bob for apples? Mrs. Morgan asked.

No thank you. I don’t like apples, Val said sadly, but politely.

She wanted to go home so she could cry. She tried never to let anyone see her cry. She spent the entire party in that corner. She was ten years old and again wished she were someone else—anyone—but not Valerie Frazer. When Rachel told their mother how Val acted at the party, Ruth yelled at her

You drive me crazy. You’ve got to stop wearing your heart on your sleeve!

It never occurred to Val’s mother to feel sympathy for her sad little girl or wonder why Val was so easily hurt. If someone had told Ruth that maybe—just maybe—telling Val that she should be more like Rachel and that Rachel was the favorite of the entire family and never paying Val a compliment, could possibly have been part of the reason.

Ruth, would have snarled, Oh baloney!

Lack of self-esteem stayed with Val most of her life, but she worked hard not to show it. Most people commented on her confidence. Val relied heavily on God, but did not understand what the church meant about all prayers being answered. Val already knew that wasn’t true—prayers aren’t always answered. At ten she thought, maybe I’m not worthy.

~~~~~~~

As Rachel and Valerie got older, the rivalry between them became more difficult and evident, especially to their poor mother. Rachel and Val couldn’t be in the same room for two seconds without some kind of confrontation.

Another clash, Val remembered, happened when Rachel was sixteen and she was thirteen.

One night her mom said she’d help them with the dishes. I’ll wash and you girls dry, she said. What was Ruth thinking? That was not a good idea. It put the combatants side by side at the sink and Ruth should have known better. Rachel pushed Val and Val, the stronger of the two, shoved Rachel back roughly pushing her into their mother.

Valerie Elaine! her mother hollered.

She pushed me first, Val cried. You never see what she does.

Ruth was fuming! You girls get out of my sight. I tried to do you a favor and what do I get—the two of you in a shoving match! I’ve had it! Go to your room.

Rachael bolted out of the kitchen, ran upstairs and locked herself in the bathroom.

Valerie unwisely tried to talk her mother into calming down. I’m sorry Mom. I’ll finish the dishes all by myself.

Ruth clenched her teeth and said in a low steady voice, Valerie, go away from me.

But Mom . . .

That’s when Val saw the look in her mother’s eyes and took off running around the dining room table with her mother hot on her heels. Around and around they went. As soon as she could make a break for it, Val flew across the living room and up the open staircase with her mom in close pursuit. Halfway up the stairs Ruth lost her footing and bruised her shinbone.

Shiiiit! she screeched.

When Val got to the top, she banged on the bathroom door telling her sister, Let me in. I think she’s really going to kill me this time.

Now, the sisters were in cahoots against the demon-mother. Later they ventured out of the bathroom and tiptoed to their room. As they passed the top of the stairs, they heard Ruth in the living room, which had since become dark, chuckling softly.

Holy Cow! What the heck is she doing down there laughing in the dark? I think she’s finally had the nervous breakdown she’s always talking about. Val whispered to Rachel.

Out of the dark came the voice of doom, "You girls come