Finding the Strength to Prevail: Breath, exist, live

By Marie Stewart

Four young girls have it all until experiences in their lives change everything. 

 

Sara loses her mother when she is six years old and is taken from the loving arms of her aunt to live with her biological father who lacks the knowledge of how to raise a child. This leaves Sara to suffer hunger, neglect, and abuse as she learns how to survive on her own. 

Michele is spunky and full of life, living her dream as she excels in the art of dance. Her parents are loving and supportive but are also very protective. One night, Michele sneaks out when her mother will not allow Michele to do things the rest of her teenage friends enjoy. This leads to a traumatic experience that changes Michele's outlook on life.

 

Agisa is sassy and lives in an exquisite neighborhood in NYC, spoiled with expensive gifts. Her life changes forever when her parents choose her father's career over raising Agisa, leaving her to be raised by nannies. She releases feelings of abandonment by acting out with the aspiration to find love and acceptance. 

 

Elizabeth revels in making her parents proud, indulging in their constant praise. Her world is turned upside down when her parents find freedom with friends and parties, leaving Elizabeth with the overwhelming responsibility of taking care of her five siblings in a small, rundown apartment. 

 

Eventually, these four girls meet when they attend the same high school, finding the family in one another they all have been seeking.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Palmetto Publishing
• Release date: Aug 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9798885909686

Marie Stewart

Marie Stewart lives in a small town in southern Utah where she and her husband of twenty years run a water well drilling business. They also share nine amazing children and sixteen delightful grandchildren. Marie spends her leisure time in Lake Powell, soaking in the sun and the stunning views. Her hobbies include scrapbooking, reading, and writing. Finding the Strength to Prevail is her first novel.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Sara

Where’s Mommy?

Dark gray clouds rolled through the crowded cemetery, wind howling and thunder breaking the silence after lightning lit the Oregon sky. Sara Hanson stood next to her mother’s shiny maroon casket. Her fine blonde hair was matted against her sleek face as tears rolled down her rosy cheeks. She held her Aunt Patricia’s pant leg tightly and tried desperately not to cry aloud. Sara, six years old, her petite body was trembling as her mother’s casket was lowered into the perfectly rectangular six-foot hole.

Patricia carefully loaded her niece, Sara, into her booster seat, all while trying to find comfort from the loss of her sister. Sara was kicking and screaming, I want my mommy! She couldn’t grasp the concept that her mommy was gone forever. Then, finally, the car fell silent. Patricia glanced in the rearview mirror to find Sara had exhausted her final cries for now and was sleeping. Her nose was snotty, and tears had now dried on her tender cheeks.

Patricia gently carried Sara’s tiny body into the house, kicking off her sandals near the front door, and tucked Sara under her flannel blanket on the couch, relieved to have a quiet moment. She stepped quietly to her room to change out of her skirt and into something more comfortable. She ran a brush through her long blonde hair, after it had been blowing in the wind, splashed water on her face, and stared in the mirror at her bright blue eyes that were bloodshot from crying. Then, she peered into Tara’s room after exiting her bedroom, where the door stood open. She could still smell her sister’s sweet perfume. Eventually, she knew she would have to go through her sister’s things and empty her bedroom. Vivid memories overcame her, remembering when she graciously helped Tara and Sara move in a few months before. Tara had been financially struggling to pay her rent after the transmission went out in her car. In addition, she had to have some unexpected dental work done without insurance to help ease the cost.

Patricia quickly offered to accommodate them by providing a comfortable living space. She was ecstatic to have some company in her beautiful, older style, two-story red brick home.

Patricia wiped away tears, smiling at her sister and her baby girl’s beautiful portrait on the nightstand. She had always admired her sister’s love for Sara as a very intellectual, independent single mom caring for her daughter. Patricia closed the door to her sister’s vacant bedroom and peeked in on Sara before retrieving a glass of water, feeling she could also use a nap after the long exhausting week she had encountered. She snuck under the same blanket as Sara on the opposite end of the couch, draping the blanket over her shoulder; her petite body slowly began to relax. She noticed the deck of cards still sitting on the wooden coffee table in front of her, reminding her of the children’s game the three of them were playing the night of her sister’s accident. Tara had cleaned up the cards when she remembered they were out of milk and eggs for breakfast in the morning. Tara prided herself on making a hot breakfast for Sara, insisting that it was the most important meal of the day. Breakfast will turn your brain on and make you smart, she would proudly chime as she filled the kitchen with a sweet aroma of maple and buttermilk, preparing the perfect breakfast of pancakes and eggs. They are Sara’s favorite.

Both Patricia and Tara decided it made the most sense for Tara to run to the grocery store since she was still in her uniform from work while Patricia was already in her lounge clothes. Tara headed out the door to the store while Patricia drew a warm bath for Sara. She played contently with her bath toys, singing a joyful tune. Patricia helped her into her pajamas and was surprised that Tara had not returned. Sara refused to settle down for bed because she enjoyed the comfort of her mommy cuddling with her while they read a short story before Tara tucked her daughter in each night. Sara finally dozed off into a peaceful sleep, but Patricia’s worries ran deep. She couldn’t understand why Tara still was not home. She called Tara’s cell, but it went straight through to voicemail. She peeked through the window at Tara’s parking spot near the picket fence, but it still sat vacantly. Patricia sat in her Victorian-style floral chair near the front door for nearly an hour, glancing at the brass clock as the minutes ticked away. Then, she was startled by her thoughts when the phone rang. She received the devastating news of the terrible car accident that claimed her sister’s life. She began to hyperventilate, choking on her uncontrollable sobs. Tara’s accident happened in the same area on the interstate where they had lost their parents nearly seven years ago, right after Tara’s graduation while heading home.

Sara began to stir, interrupting Patricia’s horrific images in her head. Patricia was pleased with the distraction. Are you feeling better after a nap, sweetheart? Patricia asked softly.

Sara wiped her eyes. Where’s Mommy? Sara cried.

Day after day, as a couple of weeks passed, Sara seemed more content with the changes in her life, only asking for her mommy occasionally.

Patricia and Sara were baking a fresh batch of cookies one day when they heard a knock at the door. Patricia walked away from the kitchen to answer the door. A classy-looking, middle-aged blonde lady introduced herself as Grace White, and she was a social worker. She held a black binder under her arm, and the sleeve of her floral blouse flowed over it. Grace began to explain the reason for her arrival. Patricia invited her in while she listened carefully to the woman trying to discuss a living arrangement for Sara. Finally, Patricia interrupted her. Oh, Sara will live with me. Eventually, I plan to adopt her. She is so young. She needs a mother, Patricia said with pleasure, never intending to replace Sara’s mom. She just wanted her to have a stable place to call her home. Grace was thumbing through her binder, and what she said next brought Patricia to tears. She couldn’t believe what was flowing from Grace’s perfect pink lips. I’m sorry to inform you, but Sara’s biological father, Jonny Hanson, has come forward. He wants Sara to live with him and his partner in Glensburg. She knew Glensburg was about 115 miles from where she and Sara were living. Patricia let out a gasp that brought Sara to her side. Sara was clinging to her pant leg, wondering what was going on. Patricia’s head was spinning as she called her friend to come to take Sara for a while. Then she explained to Grace that Sara didn’t even know her father and that he had never been a part of her life. He had only attempted to visit her one time when she was three months old. She told Grace that Jonny didn’t even pick her up from her car seat. He just rocked her with his foot. She also told Grace that he hadn’t been paying child support for over four years. None of this seemed to help Patricia in her debate. Grace simply said that Jonny had the rights to his biological daughter since her mother had died. Patricia felt unsatisfied with anger and hurt. Grace proceeded to tell her what to expect in the next few days, informing her to pack everything that she wanted Jonny to take to Sara’s new home. She suggested that Patricia pack toys She was attached to, blankets she slept with, and plenty of clothes for a fresh start because Jonny would not know her clothing size. Patricia reluctantly shouts, Jonny needs to prepare for this. He has no idea how to raise a little girl who has just lost her mommy!

Patricia’s nerves were getting the best of her, and she was thankful that she had called her friend Robyn to pick Sara up so she would not have to witness this conversation. She began crying silently. Grace tried to comfort her with a pat on her shoulder, apologizing sincerely. Patricia asked about visitation with Sara but was disappointed when Grace told her that it was up to Jonny if he wanted to allow it or not. Patricia felt so confused about how things were happening, and there was nothing she could do about it!

It was a frigid December morning when Grace knocked lightly on the door just a few weeks before Christmas. Patricia had boxed up all of Sara’s belongings and neatly placed them outside the door on her oversized porch. She answered the door with a look of anguish, and it was apparent she had been crying all morning. She had been hopeful that Jonny would change his mind before this day came. But instead, Grace and Jonny stood on the front porch. Patricia glanced in Jonny’s direction; she hadn’t seen him in six years. He was tall and skinny, his clothes were ragged, his brown hair was longer than she remembered, and he wore black sunglasses over his eyes. She avoided making eye contact with him; she knew that she would start crying and needed to be vital for Sara. So instead, she knelt on one knee and gave Sara a loving embrace. Sara wore her floral coat and a pink beanie on her head, and her body was trembling with fear, wanting never to let go of her aunt’s hand.

Finally, Sara cried, Please, Aunt Patricia, I want to live with you. Please don’t make me go. Patricia held back her tears, promising she would write and visit as often as possible. Jonny aggressively ripped her hand from Patricia’s grip and led her to his beat-up, tan-colored Chevy pickup. Grace sympathetically smiled at Patricia with a tear in her eye. Patricia stood in the doorway, watching the pickup drive away, and she saw Sara looking out the window with a despondent look on her adorable face. She went back into her house and fiercely shut the door, leaning against the door, allowing her body to slide down the back until she sat on the floor, held her face in her trembling hands, and cried hysterically. She didn’t know if she would ever see Sara again.

CHAPTER 2

Michele

Can I go, mom, please?

Michele’s mom, Marci Miser, stood at the bottom of the beach-style wooden staircase. She turned around quickly, and her flowing mid-length brown hair swayed as she turned when she heard her rustic, handcrafted entrance door swing open. Her handsome, dark-haired husband, Mike, came through the door full of excitement that he was able to leave work early, so their family could ride together to Michele’s dance recital. Mike wrapped his masculine arms around Marci’s slim waist and gently leaned in to kiss her plump, sultry lips. She looked at him and smiled with her deep-green eyes.

Marci hollered up the winding staircase to their children, Come on, you guys, let’s go. We are going to be late. She turned slightly to throw her rose-colored purse strap over her shoulder. It perfectly matched the luminous floral dress she enjoyed wearing for special occasions.

Six-year-old Michele tiptoed down the stairs, holding her pink ballet slippers, while adjusting her five-layered, silk, frilled tutu, flipping her brown-haired ponytail from side to side. Nine-year-old Mitch was not far behind her, thumping his feet as he solemnly walked down the stairs, hanging on to the perfectly hand-carved wooden rail. He held his electronic game with his other hand, shouting, I don’t know why I have to go watch a bunch of girls’ dances! Mike and Marci assured their son that he would survive.

Mike’s black jeep backed down the curved driveway as they left their luxurious, rugged, distressed log cabin home, located in Williams, Arizona. Mike and Marci often reveled in their early years, spending long, exhilarating hours building their dream home. Mike’s dad died when Mike was twenty, leaving him a significant amount for an inheritance. It was enough money for them to build their six-bedroom home and for Mike to open his thriving law firm. He makes a decent living to support his family, allowing Marci to stay home and care for their children. She exquisitely takes pride in keeping their beautiful home clean while always making their family a top priority. The main living space basks in light from floor to ceiling, displaying a dramatic stone fireplace under a beautifully vaulted wood ceiling. Next was the formal dining area where they enjoyed the extravagant meals Marci prided herself in preparing every evening. The kitchen has granite countertops engulfing a large island where they have their leisure breakfast. Bay windows led to access to the redwood deck, allowing stunning views of the surrounding pine trees where they have their seasonal barbecues, hanging out with the playfulness of nature’s butterfly wings greeting the air. Finally, their large bedrooms consisted of log-lined walls embracing stained log beds, each room uniquely designed for them.

They arrived at Leah’s dance studio. The building was bright pink, with a floral mural covering most of the old brick building. Leah lovingly provided a creative environment for the dancers to grow, learn, and excel in the art of dance. Michele had learned so much. She started dancing at the studio at the tender age of four. Dancing had built her self-confidence and artistic expressions while instilling grace and poise.

Marci found seats near the front of the stage, while Mike found a parking spot for the jeep, then joined Marci and Mitch. Meanwhile, Michele scuttled away to find her teacher and dancing friends. Mike and Marci watched with amazement as their beautiful, spunky daughter lit up the stage. Michele loved dancing, and she frequently stole the whole audience’s attention with her attitude! Her smile was contagious as she flipped her hair with elegant poise. After the recital, they enjoyed burgers and fries on the second floor of the covered deck, showcasing a twenty-five-foot waterfall at the canyonland restaurant. They were enjoying a family fun evening, and when they returned home, Marci instructed the kids to get into their PJs, and she would be up to read and tuck them into their cozy beds. Mike headed to his well-lit den, enhanced with elegant barn doors, to finish preparing for his case first thing in the morning.

Marci read quietly to Michele as she dozed off into a peaceful sleep. Snuggling the blanket around her petite body, Marci kissed her gently on the forehead. When she entered Mitch’s room, he had already fallen asleep with his gaming system in his hand. She removed it from his lazy grip and placed it on his black two-drawer nightstand next to his bed. She tucked him in softly and kissed his tender cheek.

Michele always seemed full of laughter. One stormy afternoon, she sang a joyful tune and danced when she got home from school and excitedly handed her mom a green envelope containing an invitation to a birthday party for a boy a few years older than her, named Joe. Marci read the invitation and set it aside. Michele squealed, Can I go, Mom, please?

Michele’s mom knew this young boy from helping with a school activity in Mitch’s class. She remembered his short, blonde hair and black wire-rimmed glasses. His pants seemed too short for his chubby legs, and he struggled following rules. She recalled him being a disobedient child. So obviously, she wasn’t sure how she felt about Michele going to this party, and he was nearly three years older than her. She spoke with her husband and chose to decline the invitation.

Marci was very structured with the way she raised her children. And they had rules that she expected them to follow, and they had chores that she believed they could do. She taught them how they needed to be done if they didn’t do them right. She did not tolerate bad attitudes and taught them to be respectful and never steal or lie. She always believed that if you start something, you always finish, and if you say you will be there for someone, you make sure you show up.

After school, one day, Michele didn’t walk in the door with Mitch. Marci abruptly asked Mitch where his sister was. He shrugged his shoulders and raced up the stairs to his room. Marci began to panic; she checked with every neighbor she associated with on the lane, but nobody had seen Michele. She phoned the bus driver and everyone else she could think of. Her phone finally rang; it was Michele. She told her mother that she was going to play at Abby’s for a while. Marci didn’t know who Abby was. They were new to the lane. Abby’s mom got on the receiver to inform Marci that she was fine to stay and play but wanted Michele to phone home, so she didn’t worry about where her daughter was. Marci declined the offer for Michele to stay and play because she knew better than to go to a stranger’s house, especially without asking first. She walked down the lane to Abby’s house to walk her daughter home. Then she promptly placed a chair facing the laundry room door and told Michele, This is time out. Five minutes later, she spoke with her daughter to make sure she understood her punishment.

It was a hot, humid summer afternoon when the school year was over. There was a knock at the door. Marci answered a six-year-old girl announcing her name as Tara. Her long blonde hair flowed around her shoulders, and she wore a purple polka-dot swimming suit with a brown towel wrapped around her delicate waist. Tara sang cheerfully, My mom said Michele can come to my house and swim. Marci didn’t know anything about this enthusiastic little girl or her parents. Marci politely told Tara that Michele was busy and couldn’t go out to play. Michele was