The Shine of a Tear

By Elena D’Bogdan

Happiness always comes when you least expect it!

Stella is young, idealistic, and ambitious. With a prayer in her heart and a strong determination to help her family, Stella embarks on an adventure that will take her away from her family and comfort and transplant her into a new and strange environment. Her fears are great. Will she come through for her family? Will she be able to succeed with this new undertaking? Worried and anxious, she chooses to put her faith and trust in Gods protection and care.

Colin is rich, handsome, and dark. He is stern, cold, and distant as he lives with a secret buried in his heart, making it hard for anyone but his daughter to bring a smile to his face.

As the two lives collide, will Stella be able to help Colin overcome his past and, together, find happiness?

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Aug 11, 2017
• ISBN: 9781512797176

Elena D’Bogdan

I was born in Romania, where I lived with my husband and children until we immigrated to America in 1984. We put down roots in California and we live there still in Granite Bay. Me, my husband, and children are Christians and are active members of our church community. I love my family, my church, my garden, and writing, of course! Ever since I was a young girl I had a passion for reading and writing. I always wanted to write a book, but the busyness of life distracted me and though I still read, I did not write my own books. Time passed and my children grew up and became more independent, which gave me time to sit and write down the stories that swirled in my mind. This book is the product of my labors and I hope you enjoy it. God bless you!

Book preview

CHAPTER

1

E veryone has a moment in their lives in which they stop and take a good look at themselves. You come to a point where you have to analyze your emotions and situation. You find yourself asking questions about your life, your happiness.

Am I happy? Did I think that I would ever be this happy? As I look back on my life, I try to figure out when my happiness first began.

Stella, would you be able to help me? If you can spare it, may I please borrow some money? Just a little.

Yes, for you, anything.

My mother quickly turned around so that I wouldn’t be able to see the shame and humiliation on her face that came with her simple request. I thought of what I could say to make my mother feel better, but knowing her as well as I did, I knew I should just leave it alone.

I headed out to the pastor’s house where I was a nanny to a well-behaved little boy and girl. On my way to work, I found myself thinking about my own path, my choices, and our family’s way of life. My father came to mind, a good hardworking man who tried to do all that was possible for our family and our well-being. He worked long hours at an auto body shop where he earned a good living, and we lived modestly. There were just enough funds for the necessities of life, such as food and clothes, but nothing more. We were a big family of seven children, and I was the eldest.

Ever since I could remember, I always helped my mother with the household work and taking care of my siblings. The years passed quickly, and I didn’t even realize that I was going to finish high school. I went on to attend a substitute teacher program. However, I couldn’t afford to go any further and had to find work where I could. That was when the pastor asked if I wanted to be a nanny for his kids. I accepted immediately, made decent wages, and was happy to be able to help my family with money. As the years passed with little change, it seemed like one long and endless year.

Although we did not talk often, I understood and sympathized with my mother. I loved her very much. I wished that I could make things easier for her—to have some power to make her feel better and make her happier. Mother did not talk much or show her real feelings, but it did not mean that she didn’t love us.

One memory that proved her love was last year when I had a severe cold and a high fever. I was bedridden, and my mother took care of me with such love and affection. She lovingly gave me a massage with a mixture of water, apple vinegar, and salt. It was so painful that I began to cry out, but Mama did not stop. When she continued, I was so upset with her. I told her that she would’ve stopped if she cared about my pain. When she finished the massage, she wrapped me up in a big towel and told me to rest.

I watched her leave and noticed how exhausted she was. I saw how unreasonable I was with her. Afterward, I was free of pain, and I slept peacefully. My door opened later that night, and my mother walked slowly to my bed. She put her hand on my forehead and felt my temperature, which had gone down. She leaned over me and kissed my forehead. Silent tears ran down her face. That memory was just a small glimpse of my mother’s love and warmth for her children.

As I was approaching the pastor’s house, I wondered what I could do to help my mother more. That thought remained at the forefront of my mind, and the day passed quickly without discovering an answer to my problem. The small town I grew up in didn’t provide many opportunities. If I wanted to help my parents, I’d need to leave town. The only solution was to leave my parents and go to a big city that had more chances for finding a career. But where would I go?

That night, I went to bed with the same thought. Almost instantly, a solution came to me out of thin air. It wasn’t an easy solution, and I knew my parents would not be fond of it.

After a sleepless night, I went to my mother and asked to speak with her. I felt a little unsettled because I was struggling with how to best approach my mother with this topic.

Mama, I know you’re going to be upset, but I decided to go to San Francisco to find a job with better pay so I can help you and Father with the finances.

It was the first time I had seen my mother so pale and worried. The pain in her eyes saddened me. However, she gathered her strength and said, My dear, if you think that this is the best solution, I don’t want to stop you. However, you have to know that it’s not going to be easy for us or for you, and I know your father won’t be too happy with this decision. The concern in her voice led me to believe there was more she was worrying about.

Mama, don’t worry. Everything will be all right. Will you help me pack?

As we packed, we discussed all that I needed to do. After we were done, I asked her to talk to Papa and help him understand. I went into the kitchen to get something to eat, and after what seemed like an eternity, Papa came in and sadly asked if what my mother said was true.

Yes, Papa, I replied.

But, my dear, you don’t have to go so far away just because of us. You’ll see that everything will work out fine.

No, Papa. It is not only for this reason that I’m leaving. I am also thinking about what is best for my future. Besides, San Francisco isn’t that far away. It is only three hours from here. Please give me your blessing. I really want to go.

Very well, if that’s what you think is right. But I want to give you some advice. In all that you do, ask for His guidance—and all will be well. When are you thinking of going?

Now. I want to take the bus that leaves in an hour.

So soon? You’ve already packed?

Yes, Papa. The sooner I leave, the less time we have to be miserable.

After I said goodbye to my sisters and brothers, my parents drove me to the bus station.

When the bus finally came, we said our goodbyes, painfully and tearfully. The whole time on the bus, I thought about what was going to happen and what I was going to do. The knots in my stomach wouldn’t subside. Despite all this, there was also hope and anticipation in my heart. I knew that God was with me and was guiding me. I arrived in the city in the afternoon and rented a room at a small hotel.

In the morning, I put an ad in the newspaper, looking for a place to work as a nanny. I listed my hotel room phone number as the contact information. That night, I tossed and turned in my sleep. I prayed, Jesus, you know what I want. Help me find work in a good home.

On the third day, there was still no response to my ad. Anxious thoughts filled my mind. I stepped out for lunch and took a stroll around a park to calm my nerves.

As I entered the hotel, the front desk woman notified me of a call regarding my ad in the newspaper. I could barely contain my excitement, and I called back immediately.

A woman answered. Hello?

Good afternoon. My name is Stella. You responded to my ad in the paper.

Oh, hello. My name is Eleanora. Tell me a little about yourself.

She cut straight to the chase, so I chose my words carefully. I told her a little about myself and the type of employment I was searching for.

She informed me that she needed a nanny for a little girl and asked if I could to go to her house the next morning. I hurriedly jotted down the time and address of the interview.

That night, I went to sleep nervous but happy.

In the morning, I dressed in my best interview-appropriate clothes and took a taxi to the address. Soon, we arrived in a beautiful neighborhood with dignified houses and large, well-manicured lawns. I thought how much I would enjoy working in one of those homes.

After a while, the taxi stopped in front of an iron gate. The number matched the address Eleanora had given me. I paid the taxi driver and went through the open gate. I crossed the flagstone driveway and stopped in front of the house. It was the most beautiful home I had ever laid eyes on.

Before I could reach the door, it opened. A lovely woman walked out, shook my hand, and introduced herself as Eleanora. She was a beautiful, well-dressed woman with kind eyes and salt-and-pepper hair. A few wrinkles hinted at her age, but her warm smile made her appear youthful.

Walking behind her, I couldn’t help but notice the beautiful rooms off the entryway and the lovely furniture they contained. We entered a small sitting room, and she asked me to sit down. She sat down also and asked more questions about me. She seemed very good-natured, and I felt as if she could be trusted. I told her about my family and the reason why I left home. I told her where I had worked and what schooling I had. I also gave her the pastor’s letter of recommendation and his telephone number.

After reading it, she excused herself and left the room with the letter in her hand. A little while later, she returned and informed me that I was hired on the spot. She told me the amount that I would be paid every month and asked if I agreed with it. It was a very good sum—one I had not even considered. I smiled and said, Of course. Thank you!

The little girl you will be caring for is Julia, said Eleanora.

Can I meet your daughter now?

She started laughing and answered, That is the highest compliment I have received in a long time! Julia is my granddaughter, my son’s daughter. Her mother died when she was two years old. My son and I have raised her. I have to go back to my house in Napa, and I have hired you so that you can continue to take care of her. Her father works very long hours and comes home late. Julia needs supervision—but also attention and compassion.

While she was talking, we heard the cry of a child from what seemed to be the backyard.

Mrs. Eleanora ran outside. Next to a large hydrangea bush, a little girl was clutching her foot and crying. Eleanora quickly went to her and asked what had happened. The little girl said she was running after the ball, fell, and hurt her foot. She couldn’t seem to walk.

I picked her up, carried her into the house, and laid her down on the sofa. I checked her foot and saw a red area that seemed to swell before my eyes. I asked for a cold compress and pressed it to her foot.

Mrs. Eleanora asked me to take her to her room to get some rest, but when I began to do so, the little girl didn’t want to go. She began to cry and put her head on my shoulder.

I sat down on the sofa again with the little girl in my arms. I rocked her back and forth slowly and whispered soothing words. She fell asleep after a little while.

Her grandmother gazed at us, smiled, and left the room.

The child I was holding was blonde and had soft, white skin. She was thin, small, and very pretty. Knowing that she didn’t have a mother, sympathy and love overtook my heart. We sat there about an hour before she slowly opened her eyes, looked at me, and asked who I was.

Mrs. Eleanora entered the room, sat down next to us, and told her that I was her new nanny.

She looked at me and said, I like you. Finally, I have someone to play with! Grandma doesn’t always play with me because she says her feet hurt. My name is Julia. What’s your name?

My name is Stella.

Stella? Oh, what a pretty name. I like it a lot!

Mrs. Eleanora invited us to have tea and pastries. While we were eating, Mrs. Eleanora asked if I had more things at the hotel. I told her that I did, and she said they would take me to the hotel to collect my things. When Julia heard that, she exclaimed that she wanted to come with us.

On the way to the hotel, I began to pray and thank the Lord for all of His help so far. After we sorted everything out with the hotel, we headed back to their home with my small suitcase.

When we arrived at her home, Mrs. Eleanora showed me my room and then Julia’s room, which were next to each other on the second floor. She left me in my room so that I could put my things away and settle in. It was a large and attractively furnished room with two large windows overlooking the garden. When I descended the stairs, Julia took me by the hand to show me the rest of the house. She led me through all of the rooms, except her father’s room.

All the rooms were spacious, bright, and furnished with good taste and quality furniture. I was glad I was going to work in a house like that. We went outside to the terrace, and I saw the most beautiful garden