The Girl from Chapel Hill (Book 2): Legacy of a Praying Mama

By Vanester M. Williams

This book is the much-anticipated sequel to “The Girl from Chapel Hill: Her Journey of Faith, Forgiveness, and Freedom.”

Laura has never forgotten the faith-filled lessons learned from her maternal grandmother. With a fearless determination – anchored in prayer - she passes these lessons on to her family. Travel on an unforgettable, suspenseful, and sometimes frightening journey with her family as they endure one challenge after another. Yet, at each juncture, somebody is fervently praying.

“Oh no!” Danielle screamed, “Sara, stay with me … stay with me!”

She looked down at Sara’s hands; they had gone limp. She lapsed into silence. Suddenly, her eyes shot open with a painful look, then rolled to the back of her head. Again, she gasped for breath and frantically clutched her hands to her chest.

Danielle felt as if everything was happening in slow motion. The police officer nudged her more firmly. Heart-stricken, she regrettably released Sara’s hands and backed away—keeping a careful watch on her face. The paramedics rushed inside and took over.

A preliminary diagnosis: cardiac arrest.”

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Jun 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9781664266766

Vanester M. Williams

Vanester M. Williams is the author of “The Girl from Chapel Hill: Her Journey of Faith, Forgiveness, and Freedom.” She has been a minister of the Gospel of Jesus Christ for over 20 years. She is a host/speaker on a weekly broadcast called His Abounding Grace, a program under the ministry of When Christians Speak Talk Radio. She is passionate about encouraging others and teaching them how to strengthen their Christian journey. She is a retiree of the U.S. Federal Government, holds a degree in Biblical Studies, and a Certificate in Biblical Counseling Principles. She and her husband, Rick, have been married for over 46 years. They are the proud parents of two grown children, two grandchildren, and several godchildren. They enjoy each other’s company and happily reside in Fredericksburg, Virginia.

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Copyright © 2022 Vanester M. Williams.

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and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Scripture quotations taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

Scripture quotations taken from The Holy Bible, New International

Version® NIV® Copyright © 1973 1978 1984 2011 by Biblica, Inc.

TM. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

ISBN: 978-1-6642-6675-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6642-6674-2 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-6642-6676-6 (e)

WestBow Press rev. date: 06/01/2022

To

my readers.

Your support and encouragement have been incredible.

You are the best!

To my grandson, Dominic, and my granddaughter, Zoë.

You are my pride and joy.

Do the right thing, even when the right thing isn’t the most popular.

CONTENTS

Acknowledgments

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

A Special Appeal from the Author

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Foremost and above all,

I acknowledge my heavenly Father.

"God is our refuge and strength, a very present

help in trouble" (Psalm 46:1 KJV).

My husband and best friend, Rick.

Once again, you have been my most avid supporter.

Special appreciation for my beta readers: Tarsha

Malone Wells and Byron Williams.

CHAPTER 1

"Lala, did you hear anything I just said?" Drew asked, standing in the kitchen’s entryway. He chuckled and watched the scene unfold before him. His wife, Laura, was scurrying around in the kitchen—going from the oven to the stovetop to the refrigerator to the microwave and to the pantry. The ringing of a loud manual timer on the countertop prompted her to double back to the oven. There were mixing bowls on the counter, pots on the stove, and several baked dishes cooling on the table. He knew from experience this was only the beginning of her holiday cooking, and most of it would occur after the boys and their families arrived.

I’m not quite sure how she manages it all, but she’s clearly in her element. I’m getting tired just watching her, Drew thought, shaking his head. A thin smile edged his lips. Are we having fun yet? he asked teasingly. She barely looked in his direction but smiled and wiped her hands on her red-nosed reindeer apron. A flashback of a particular Christmas morning brought another smile to his face. Many Christmases ago, when Gracie, their oldest grandchild, was around six years old, she had proudly given Laura that apron.

With a shrug, Drew finally gave up trying to get her to listen to him. And he allowed himself to be caught up in her holiday excitement. He had been trying to get her attention regarding his ideas for a few outdoor Christmas decoration changes. When he saw how focused she was, he uttered, Oh well … guess I’ll just go ahead with these changes and worry about what she thinks later. Chuckling again, he headed back outdoors to finish his project.

He shivered and tried to ignore the cold temperature, which seeped through his bones as he sorted through the boxes of holiday lights spread out on the lawn. Feeling his age at sixty-six, Drew Harris was glad he had heeded Laura’s suggestion and hired sixteen-year-old Eric, a neighborhood teen, to help him put up the outdoor decorations.

You wouldn’t understand, but this type of physical work is a harsh reminder that I don’t have the body of a forty-year-old anymore, he said. Eric, who was on the ladder hanging a string of lights around the upstairs windows, nodded. Drew looked at the bushes, admiring his handiwork. A combination of dogwood and hydrangea shrubs lined the front of his house. He was pleased with his decision to decorate the bushes with alternating red and green twinkling lights.

His thoughts turned to the time when his three boys had helped him replant some of the aged bushes before Mike, their youngest son, had left home for college. Wow, that was many years ago. With Christmas being just two days away, they will be arriving tomorrow, probably within hours of each other. I’m glad Christmas day is falling on a Friday. With a weekend holiday, the boys and their families plan to stay at least two days. That should give us plenty of time to catch up on sports and other events. Yep, they will be here and gone, just that quickly. Oh yeah, I’ve got to make sure I take my multivitamins. The grandkids will surely try to wear this ole fellow out.

Feeling spent but pleased with the outcome, he walked toward the sidewalk and gazed back at the myriad of decorations that covered their house and yard. Thanks! Great job! he exclaimed to Eric. Drew handed him an envelope and gave him a firm handshake.

Eric grinned. Thanks, Mr. Harris. And Merry Christmas. After finishing up the last of his work, he helped Drew return the excess decorations to the garage closet. He took a few steps toward the sidewalk, turned around, and grinned. With a glint in his eyes, Eric blurted out, Oh, please tell Gracie I said hello. Whistling, he jogged down the road, glad to have a few dollars in his pocket for the holidays.

Gracie? I wonder how close those two are getting. Can’t be that close … with over two hundred miles between them, Drew thought. He fingered his salt-and-pepper beard.

Drew’s mind returned to his entire family, especially his grandkids. He eagerly rubbed his hands together and tried to contain his excitement. His anticipation at seeing the looks on their faces when they beamed at all of the new decorations made him happy. Rather than cutting back this year, he and Laura had gone all out and decorated all three levels of their modest, thirty-five-year-old colonial home in Florentine, Ohio. They had even purchased and decorated two live six-foot Christmas trees.

He remembered earlier conversations he had with Laura about moving to a smaller house. For years, he had brought up the subject of them downsizing, especially since they had been empty nesters for quite some time. But she wasn’t having any of that. Whenever he tried to get her to at least consider the idea, she would always frown and say, No, honey, we need to make sure there’s enough space for when the boys and their families come to visit. Besides, this is their childhood home. With so many memories here, how can we upset them and move? What will they think? Her response was always the same.

Memories of Gracie. When she turned eleven, Laura convinced him to have their first-floor den converted to a bedroom. How thrilled the two of them had been when Gracie came to visit during spring break and saw her brand-new bedroom for the first time. Laura and Gracie had spent hours shopping for preteen bedroom decorations. Shortly afterward, when other grandkids came along, Laura convinced him to have their entire basement renovated, which resulted in two extra bedrooms.

Using the childhood memory response as an excuse, Laura did not even waver when her wealthy dad had offered to build them a house in a brand-new waterfront country club community. Drew, an avid golfer, would have been eager to move to a community with its own golf course. However, that wasn’t as important to him as pleasing his Lala. So, without a doubt, he knew his quest to downsize would never happen.

Putting aside all thoughts of downsizing, he wrapped the wool scarf even tighter around his neck and returned to the front of the house. Breathing heavily, he shoveled some wintry mix from the sidewalk leading up to the door. He proceeded to spread some sand on the slippery surfaces. He scolded himself for not asking Eric to shovel the wintry mix. It’s really freezing out here, he said, groaning. He brushed the snow off his boots and rushed inside.

The aroma of the coffee from the percolator drifted toward him, causing him to inhale deeply. After removing his gloves, he rubbed his shivering hands together. I can hardly wait to grab a cup of coffee and thaw out in front of the fireplace, he mumbled.

He peeped into the kitchen to see if Laura was still in there. Glad to see she wasn’t, he hurried in, grabbed his coffee, and glanced toward the door before cutting a generous slice of warm sweet potato pie. This will go great with my coffee! he said mischievously. He halfway looked over his shoulder and jovially added, If someone were to see me, I know they would think I’m acting like a silly child who is thrilled he didn’t get caught with his hands in the cookie jar. He didn’t notice the trail of pie crumbs he left behind on his way to the family room.

CHAPTER 2

On Thursday, Christmas Eve, around noon, fifteen-year-old Gracie and her nine-year-old brother, Kyle, came rushing through the front door. They went straight to the kitchen and headed for their grandmother’s famous home-baked chocolate chip cookies. Their parents, Marty, and his wife, Danielle, paused in the doorway, armed with suitcases. How do they always manage to get away with leaving the majority of the luggage for us to carry? Marty asked, shaking his head.

He bent down and greeted his mother with a kiss. Danielle frowned and whispered in his ear, Because they know your mother will spoil them. She followed him into the house, dragging one of the larger suitcases. They heard laughter from the kitchen and knew Papa was with the kids—all enjoying way too many cookies. The scene was almost always the same.

Twenty minutes later, the arrival of Marty’s twin brother, Matt, his wife, Pam, and their rowdy eleven-year-old twin boys (Joel and Jon) added to the excitement. Everyone took turns pacing and looking out the window. They were eager for the last members of the Harris bunch to arrive. The wait was not that long. But in the minds of the younger ones, it was like waiting an eternity.

Mike, their youngest son, his wife, Giana, along with their eight-year-old daughter, Shelly, and six-year-old son, James, arrived about an hour later. The excessive loud noise they made coming through the door caused Laura, who was in the kitchen, to laugh out loud. Is that the cavalry coming? she asked jokingly as she rushed into the hallway.

Shortly afterward, the kids started grumbling and whining about how starved they were. No one mentioned how many chocolate chip cookies they had eaten, even though the aroma lingering in the air was clearly evident!

The arrival of the Harris’s family circle was complete.

As was tradition, after a hearty meal of Laura’s homemade chili, rice, and corn bread, they all gathered around the Christmas tree in the family room. The little ones’ eyes flickered with excitement as they anxiously waited for her to hand each of them a personalized, handcrafted ornament to put on the tree. They knew the ornament would be boxed up later for them to take home.

As the oldest grandchild, Gracie retained the honor of placing the antique angel at the top of the Fraser fir tree.

She climbed the small ladder to the top of the tree and giggled, thinking, I’m so glad I’m the oldest—and their favorite grandchild! No one would ever be able to convince her otherwise. She relished this belief and looked forward to spending as much alone time as she could with her grandparents.

Laura gazed at her family—surrounding the tree. She bowed her head, deep in thought. Inwardly, she thanked God for blessing her with such a beautiful family. Lord knows, we aren’t perfect, but I’m so grateful to You for lending these precious jewels to me, she prayed.

Looking toward the ceiling, her eyes brimmed with tears. Why do I always get so emotional? she thought. All eyes were on her as she wiped the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. She looked over at Drew, who was adjusting some of the lights on the tree. She then glanced again at her family. Love bumbled over in her heart. She held a unique bond with each of them—yes, even her daughters-in-law. Satisfied, she thought her sons had chosen wisely.

Her thoughts turned to her dear mama and how she still missed her, even after many years. I sure wish Mama was here to see her fourth and fifth generations. I believe she would be so proud of them. I surely am.

She could see the little ones getting restless. Shrugging her shoulders, she fought off the urge to walk around the circle and give each of them another hug. She knew her family thought she was overly sentimental, but she just didn’t care.

She opened her mouth to say something, and guessing what she was about to say, they all chimed in unity, I love my family! Everyone started laughing. Even though no one would admit it, they loved that the matriarch of their family was so transparent and affectionate. They were also glad she was a praying mother.

Laughing, she threw her hands up in the air and left to go into the kitchen. She needed a distraction in order to control her emotions, and the need to check on the food was a welcoming one. Even though she had prepared a majority of the main holiday dishes ahead of time, Laura, now sixty-five years old, still insisted on cooking most of the daily meals as well. No one had quite mastered her cooking, so she got no argument from the family. Each year, she enjoyed watching them feast off of her buffet-served holiday meal. It consisted of appetizer trays, including shrimp/crab rolls and meatballs, an assortment of meats and vegetables, side dishes, her famous ambrosia salad, and yes, all kinds of homemade desserts.

Each Christmas holiday, Gracie spent hours in the kitchen with Nana, going over her recipes and listening to her talk about how much things had changed since she was a little girl in Chapel Hill, Tennessee. She occasionally got a bit antsy when Nana began to share one of her famous stories. Then she got sidetracked by the need to check on whatever food was baking in the oven. She knew Nana would eventually pick up the story from where she left off, but sometimes the suspense caused her to pace the floor. Yet she smiled, shook her head, and humored her grandmother—as she told one tale after another—while keeping a watchful eye on whatever food was cooking.