Hope Springs Eternal

By Lee Ann Valetti

How does a walk with your dog on one wintry evening change the course of your life from status quo to serendipity? That's the question I answer in my inspirational story depicting a time in one woman's life when she's all but given up on her future. Fiercely independent, she hides behind the thick armor she wears of her own making, thinking if she lives her life in this manner, no one will ever hurt her again. Boxing herself off comes at a high price though-loneliness and loss of self-worth. In essence, she's lost hope. My story is about finding it again.

It was their nightly walk that started out no different than any other midwinter evening. With only her beloved West Highland white terrier, Marshmallow, as her companion, she is about to embark on a journey that will alter her world as she knows it. Her complacent life would soon be changed forever by coming to terms with her deep-rooted and unfounded guilt.

She strives to raise her two sons alone after a painful divorce, all the while trying to make the world a better place for children as a children's advocate. She prays to God for guidance and to help her make sense of where her life is leading and to find happiness. She is in awe and, at times, even disbelief that God would personally answer her never-ending prayers by transporting her back into time to resolve her issues with her past. In a continuing battle to regain her old way of life, she soon learns that God makes all our plans, and only in His time are we fully able to grasp His intentions. With the help of a handsome but puzzling guide, she finally settles down and begins to carve out a new life for herself in a new world. Fifty-year-old Hope is about to have her prayers answered in a way she never expected.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Sep 9, 2021
• ISBN: 9781098063825

Book preview

One

I’ve always been a led-by-your-heart kind of person. Sometimes I can be impulsive, but more often than not, I tend to put things off and then rather than think them entirely through, lead with my heart and not my head. This mode of thinking yields to snap decisions when I know I’m running out of time and usually not the outcome I would have wished. You’d think I’d have learned by now, but sadly I had not. Sigh. So tonight, I began a trek toward my future and ultimately my happiness, or so I thought. It was a small step, but in actuality for me, it was huge. Stubborn to a fault and owning a my way mentality, these traits have usually brought me sorrow and even anguish at times. So in typical style, I set off for a walk on a midwinter evening.

The night was exquisitely beautiful but could be viewed as ordinary to anyone who wasn’t aware of its quiet splendor; all one had to do was look up. We don’t often pause to appreciate the natural beauty around us and thus take it for granted, but tonight I didn’t. It was cold, clear, brilliant, and the full moon shone brightly against a midnight blue backdrop. There was a full accompaniment of stars strewn by His hand across the sky as far as the eye could see. It was solemn, hushed. I could tell it was a different sort of night, but that’s just me. Sometimes I know things ahead of time but never realize it till later, and then looking back, it’s, Aha, now I see! Tonight was just that kind of night, and I was brimming with hope and anticipation.

The new fallen snow, while not very deep, muffled my footsteps as I made my way across the park. I could see the pine trees a short distance away and smell its pungent, fragrant scent each time I took a breath. Marshmallow, my adorable West Highland white terrier, bounded joyfully beside me as we made this journey to find what I had been searching for the majority of my life. She blended in well with the landscape on this crisp winter night, and usually it was hard to discern where she stopped and the snow began. Tonight it was easy because she was sporting her red, sock monkey sweater. She looked good in red; you would too if you were white as snow.

Marshmallow loved the snow; she’d roll around in it then bury herself and come up for air with a full-length beard of snow akin to Rip Van Winkle. She was my companion and not just any dog. Moreover, I liked to think of her as the daughter I never had. I’d wanted a Westie for years, and Mallow was certainly worth the wait. She loved me unconditionally and never gave me a hard time about it. Too bad she wasn’t a man.

I pulled my scarf up closer to my face to ward off the cold as the wind kicked up a bit. I could see for quite a distance by the light of the moon and the well-lit park. Since I was in no particular hurry to reach my destination, I slowed my pace. After all, I’d waited this long; what was another fifteen minutes or so? I began to savor the anticipation because sometimes anticipation is better than the actual result. Part of me couldn’t wait, so I picked up my stride. An internal struggle ensued. Did I want to know? Didn’t I want to know? Was I too late? Being in limbo is its own kind of hell. I slowed down again. Trouper that she was, Mallow adjusted easily to my sporadic gait. Back and forth in my mind, Turn around, forge ahead. It was maddening! Most of my life, I’ve had cold feet, and now I had them both literally and figuratively. Mallow sensed my discontent and stopped abruptly, cocking her head to the left. There was still a sprinkle of snow on her black nose, and she gazed up at me with her bright shoe-button eyes adoringly, if puzzled. I wish she could talk; I needed someone to talk to right about now.

No matter. I reached down, patted her head, and told her I was fine, and we pressed on. It was a good night to think, to mull things over in one’s mind. I tried debating with myself. What’s the worst thing that could happen? Don’t answer that! I knew full well what the worst thing that could happen could and would be. If I dwelled on that long enough, I’d turn around for home in a heartbeat. I liked to think I was brave, but in actuality, I was hardly the stuff heroes are made of. However, I knew I had to try. Trying was a relatively new concept for me and not trying was no longer an option. I finally figured out that not trying yielded zero results whereas if I actually tried, the odds increased by half. I have become braver than I was before, just not as brave as I’d like to be. I’m working on it, a work in progress as it were.

The fact that you try equates bravery. Yes, you risk failure, but that’s when the bravery part kicks in as the flip side is success. I am not saying that I’ve succeeded in every endeavor I’ve attempted; however, had I not tried, I would not have succeeded at anything.

We were now traveling away from the beaten path as this part of the park was not frequently used by walkers, although there were still a few milling about. I felt relatively safe as I knew that there were more people around only a short distance away, and I had the moon as my night-light. I loved the moon. I really don’t know why, but I had a great affinity for it. Plus, I had Mallow, who was a lamb with a heart of a lion all in one compact little body. If need be, she would defend me with her life.

We paused a minute to get our bearings and looked all around us. The trees were outlined in snow, giving it an enthralling and pristine look. The full moon shining upon the snow on the wide expanse of unfettered land made it glitter like diamonds twinkling intermittently. It was such an exquisitely beautiful night. There was such a startling contrast between the midnight blue sky and the stunning white blanket of snow that it took my breath away. Resuming our walk, we continued on and were now closing in on the forest. It was not a very deep one with residential homes just on the other side of it.

We continued walking until at the edge of the forest, we came across a large flat rock that had been covered with snow, making it look like a table adorned with a tablecloth. On top of it sat a wide-mouthed jar, half-filled with a rose-colored liquid with its lid off sitting beside it. The liquid was not frozen, which I thought odd. I tried to inhale its contents, but by now I’d been outdoors for quite a bit, and my nostrils were frozen. There was also a biscuit broken in half, lying beside the jar. I let it be but wondered who had left it there and for what purpose? My imagination took over and envisioned all kinds of possibilities and scenarios. The first was obvious: Who was out here besides me? I shuddered involuntarily and surveyed my surroundings. I saw no one close in all directions I looked. There were no tracks in the snow leading up to this rock except mine and my dog’s; therefore, this jar had to have been there for a while. However, since the jar and biscuit were not covered by the new fallen snow, it remained a mystery.

How is this possible? I asked Mallow, who remained mute, so I took it that she didn’t know either. I didn’t know if it would be better to remain silent or shout and cause attention to myself. I weighed my options and decided that it would be best to move on…quietly.

We were entering the pine-tree forest now. It was a little darker than it was in the park because of the trees. However, because it was not a dense forest with the trees spaced further apart and there was the light from the moon, I could still see moderately well. I only had to get to the other side of this forest to reach my goal. Maybe another few minutes, and we’d be there. I could already see the lights of the homes and streets beyond the trees that showed the way.

Marshmallow decided to pick this particular moment to start her infernal sniffing. One would think with the snow, she wouldn’t be able to discern other dogs’ markings, but never underestimate my pup. Once she started, it took a lot of cajoling and coaxing for her to stop. After the third time, I tugged on her harnessed-leash and said, "Okay, Mal, that’s enough. We’re going for a walk, not a sniff! She stopped and looked up at me and decided it would be best to humor me. She began trotting alongside me once again. We continued on quietly, and I was relieved she didn’t switch to snow-angel mode," where she’d flop on her back in a bed of fresh snow and wiggle this way and that.

Of course, this was when I would hear someone following me. It wouldn’t have happened out in the open in the park where I could see for miles and with people still around. It would have to be in the forest fraught with my wild imaginings. I quickened my pace. Mallow began to growl softly. My heart was beating a mile a minute, and I thought it may leap out of my chest.

I heard, Wait a minute! I thought maybe I heard my name too, but I wasn’t certain, and I wasn’t waiting for anything. I started to run, putting as much distance as I could between myself and the pursuer. Mallow was excited; she loved to run. She thought it was a game; I only wished it were. To be alone and a couple miles from home in the cold night, being chased by who knew what, was not exactly my idea of a game. However, I tried to cut her some slack; she was a dog after all. I kept thinking that if only we could get to where the houses were right on the other side of this forest, we’d be safe. I started to get a stitch in my side from running, but before I could even consider slowing down, the voice yelled again, and this time much closer. Then I slipped and stumbled in the snow. Thankfully, I still had Marshmallow on her leash. As I scrambled to my feet, I spied an opening in the side of the slope of a hill. I didn’t think twice. Mallow and I plunged into the darkness and sat and waited.

In a few moments, my pursuer ran rapidly past, but I couldn’t catch a glimpse of who he was. I decided to stay put for just a few minutes to make sure he was gone. The space was a little cramped, and Mallow curled up beside me. She must have thought we’d be here for a while. Upon further investigation, as my eyes became adjusted to the darkness of the interior of this place, I noticed that behind me seemed as if was a very deep cave, almost cavernous and abysmal. I never heard anything about a cave or whatever this was being here before, I thought. I let the leash go slack in my hand, and that was my first mistake. What was I thinking? I knew better than to not hold on to her leash, ever. Apparently Mallow had ideas herself, and one was exploring this new space; she took off before I even knew she was gone. She’s awful quick when she wants to be. I called out her name over and over with no desire to enter this cave any farther than I had already. She ignored me, and I knew I had no choice but to follow her. Boy, was she going to get a scolding when I found her! I did have the sense to bring a flashlight with me when I left the house tonight. I rummaged through my pockets, retrieved it, and turned it on. Its beam of light was welcome in the midst of obscurity. Did I mention before that I am not very brave? But I loved my dog more than my fears, so I began to crawl deeper into the eerie darkness. Upon further investigation, I discovered that this was, indeed, a cave. Not too far in, I saw that the hole widened and was large enough that I was able to stand and permitted me to walk, which was my second mistake. I should have sought help, but I felt that time was of the essence, and I just couldn’t leave her. It was dark as pitch, and besides, how far could she have gotten?

I kept walking and was surprised because the cave was a lot larger than initially thought and that the ceiling was several inches above my head (that’s not saying much as I am barely five feet tall, or should I say short?), and it widened to approximately ten feet. It was dank and dark; the cold and clamminess permeated me to the bone.

Onward I went, sweeping my flashlight beam from side to side, and soon I noticed that the walls were no longer dirt but made of stone. Then the path veered off in two directions. I pondered which one Mallow had chosen to follow. I called out her name again. No answer. I selected the path on the right, hoping I chose correctly, and continued on my journey. It was very strange, and my uneasiness continued to grow—how I wish I could turn back. I was becoming exceedingly concerned about Marshmallow the longer it was taking to locate her, not to mention this was a very scary, dark place. I kept walking and calling her name and swinging my flashlight back and forth. I wondered about the proximity of bats; then I immediately dismissed it. I had a more pressing problem: I had to find my Mallow.

When first traveling down this path, it was the same stone walls; then it started to change—rapidly. I noticed that it was becoming lighter inside of the cave. I heard people talking, cars blaring their horns, streetcars clanging, (streetcars?), noises you’d hear from a busy city street. I became very confused. How was it possible that I would be hearing these sounds so far away from the city, and underground? It was unnerving, and I slowed my pace a bit. Again if it wasn’t for my dog, I’d have hightailed it out of there! It seemed like I was coming up around a bend, and that’s when I saw an opening into daylight. I had walked right out of a mountain into the light of day and onto a sidewalk of a thriving, bustling town that seemed to be set in the past, many, many decades before.

As I stood on the sidewalk, there were Rambler station wagons and Ambassador sedans, some with paneled sides driving past me with a policeman directing traffic from the middle of the intersection, complete with a whistle in his mouth, his arms moving so fast they reminded me of propellers on the airplanes of long ago. I was right about hearing the streetcars; they were running up and down the street, emitting sparks from the cables they were attached to above, providing the necessary electricity to operate them.

The sun was shining where before it had been nighttime. I thought that was very strange, but there was hardly anything normal about what I was encountering, so why would the time of day be the same?

There were buildings, stores, and people walking to and fro. I spied a Mobil gas station complete with the Pegasus logo, now obsolete, that I vaguely remembered from when I was a little girl. There was a rack of tires for sale alongside the entrance of the station’s building; you never see that nowadays. I could hear the faint ding of the bell from the cable wire on the ground. A car just ran over it, alerting the attendant that a customer had pulled in for service. It had been a very long time since I saw gas being pumped by one attendant and a windshield washed simultaneously by another.

It was just unbelievable what I was seeing! Women had hats on with colorful feathers pluming out of the center or the back. Their dresses sprang outward from their waists from the abundance of petticoats underneath. Young ladies were dressed in pink poodle skirts and saddle shoes with white anklets. Young men, with what seemed like an entire tube of hair cream on their heads, were wearing blue jeans and white T-shirts. Apparently, they never heard of a little dab will do ya! The men’s apparel was dated too with suits that sported large lapels along with wide ties and topped off with a fedora or bowler hat.

I realized that it must be late spring or early summer because I was starting to feel very warm attired in my winter garb. I quickly took off my coat then my hat, scarf, and gloves and stashed them in the sleeve of my coat, then carried it in the crook of my arm. I turned off my flashlight and stowed it in my pocket of my coat. That done, I stood there marveling at everything again, not even sure that it was real, when I heard a loud bark. It was Marshmallow with her leash trailing behind her! I’d found her (or rather she found me), and she looked so relieved. So was I! I felt a bit guilty as I’d forgotten for a moment why I was there in the first place, which was to find my beloved dog. I dropped my coat to the ground and bent down to scoop her up in my arms, and she began licking my entire face. I was so happy and thankful to have her back that I quickly forgot to chastise her. I held her close for a few moments, kissed her in the special place I had for her (between her eyes), then sat her down for a moment while I took off her doggie sweater and stuffed it inside my coat’s pocket too. Then I walked a bit down the street with her back in my arms. Mallow dislikes being carried, so I knew she must have been very frightened that she was lost to allow me to continue to hold her.

The town was a wonder! I guess my wide-eyed stare gave me away because it seemed that the townspeople must have known that I was a visitor (I finally remembered to close my gaping mouth). They were friendly, gave me a welcoming smile, and nodded their heads, almost as if they knew me, but said nothing. Intrigued, I began walking farther down the street with Mallow still in my arms and gazed into the store-front windows. There was a bakery, bank, millenary shop, deli, and an ice-cream parlor. On the other side of the street, there were many stores too, including a dress shop, a jewelry store, and a little café with a striped green-and-white awning, and a pizza shop—everything a small town would have and more. I thought I must be dreaming. How can all of this possibly be here, I wondered? I just couldn’t get over it. There was another gas station farther down the street that sported an Esso sign. It had been decades since I had seen a sign for Esso with the "Put a Tiger in Your Tank" their commercials used to boast.

Mallow squirmed in my arms; apparently, she was done with being frightened. I gently set her down onto the sidewalk, remembering to keep a strong grasp on her leash. There was no way she would get away from me again. I was just getting ready to turn around to leave and find my way out of this blast from the past when I saw a man running full steam toward me and nearly ran me over.

Hey! I’ve been following you! he said, stopping and bent over at the waist with his hands on his knees, obviously winded.

Me? What for? I responded, nonplussed.

I’ve been following you since the forest. I tried to stop you from entering here, he said, getting his breath back.

Why, is it a secret? I asked, still looking around at everything.

Of course, it is. Just look, there’s nothing like it anywhere else. But that’s not the entire reason. Now that you’re here and know about this place, you can’t go back. That’s why I was chasing you. I was trying to stop you so that you wouldn’t have to be kept here, Hope.

Two

Pardon me! Are you saying that I am trapped here? I went on nervously without giving him a chance to answer. Well, I’m leaving now, and no one’s going to stop me! I said in a determined voice, which was contrary to what I actually felt; I was more than a little panicked.

"I wouldn’t use the word trapped. No one has to stop you because the way out is sealed. You’ll never be able to go back now," he said, but I barely heard him. Mallow and I had already bolted back the way we had come, but there was only a street. Everywhere I turned, there were city streets. Nowhere was the portal I had come out of into this retro world. Tears of frustration sprang to my eyes as I searched for a long time back and forth, up and down streets, to no avail. I stopped a moment, closed my eyes, breathed in, and felt the sun on my face, and I could feel my unchecked tears course down my cheeks. As they leaked into the corners of my mouth, I could taste their saltiness. I was trying to see if I was dreaming. If I was, it was an awfully realistic dream. I opened one eye at a time and quickly closed them again. I opened them both this time, and it was just as it was before; nothing had changed. My breathing became shaky, and I thought my knees may give way.

Defeated and thoroughly frightened now, I walked wobbly back to where he stood waiting patiently for me and asked him, What am I going to do?

It was then that I remembered my cell phone. I reached into my pocket, retrieved my phone, and quickly flipped it open while wiping my eyes with my other hand. I was puzzled because after a few moments, the screen said, Searching for service.

That won’t work here. Cell phones haven’t been invented yet.

I looked up at him like he was out of his mind. This…cannot…be…happening…to…me.

I thought about my sons, sisters, job, and my home. I thought about the children I was trying to help. I was so upset that I began to cry in earnest. I could tell he felt very badly as he tried to console me by putting his arm around me.

This is not a terrible place. Everyone is very kind, and you’ll find your way here. I promise.

A thought occurred to me suddenly. How was it that he was able to get out of here then? After all, he was on the outside when he was chasing me, and he even knew about cell phones. It really was his fault too because had he not chased me, he wouldn’t have caused me to do the very thing he was trying to prevent. I took a ragged breath and asked him.

Wait a minute, how is it that you were able to leave and then return?

That’s a good question. He waited a beat, gave a half of a smile, and then continued, I come and go as I please. I live amongst the townspeople now though. There’s more to it than that, but that’s all you need to know right now, he said mysteriously. Just being here is going to be hard enough for you to accept.

I was incredulous. Again, I thought this just was not happening. I was going to wake up from this dream (as I kept calling it in my mind) any moment now. I closed my eyes. Okay, one, two, three—wake up! I told myself. I opened my eyes, and I was still there, stuck in what appeared to be the 1950s. Unbelievable! I told myself. It’s going to take some time to wake up, so just go along with it for now. It’s amazing what you’ll tell yourself in order to survive. I took a deep breath and tried to compose myself. I looked up at the stranger and really saw him for the first time. He was very good looking, if a little delusional. He looked to be in his late forties or maybe early fifties. His chestnut-brown hair was worn a little long with loose waves tinged with a touch of gray here and there. He was around six feet or so with a medium build and was dressed in blue jeans, rather denim, the cuffs shoved haphazardly into scuffed, brown leather lace-up boots. A blue plaid flannel work shirt, collar opened at the neck that revealed a white T-shirt underneath, completed his ensemble. He also wore a navy-blue peacoat that he now took off and slung over his right shoulder and held it there with the crook of his right index finger. Neither his apparel nor hairstyle matched the mode of the men I’d seen so far here. A five-o’clock shadow graced his jaw and gave him a rugged look. However, it was his eyes I was so taken with. They were a sparkling blue, and staring into them, I knew in that instant that I could trust him. I began to calm down just by returning his steady gaze as his eyes locked with mine. He reminded me of someone, but before I could fully grasp whom, the thought disappeared from my mind. It was replaced by another thought that occurred to me.

How did you know my name? I asked softly while trying to blink back the tears that kept threatening to resurface. I didn’t wait for an answer. I wanted to know his name then asked him quickly.

Merrick, he replied.

I looked back up at him. My mind was wandering, and I felt the beginnings of panic again. I had to bring it back to the present, or in this case, the past. He looked down at me; and for the first time, it seemed, he noticed Marshmallow.

Who do we have here? he asked as he squatted down and balanced on the balls of his feet to pat her head. Of course, she preened. I love when she does that. Her ears become very erect and alert; then she prances with her two front paws shamelessly. She does not do this maneuver often, so it’s a treat to watch when it happens. I smiled indulgently at my precious pup.

Mallow did love the attention, and Merrick’s good looks weren’t lost on my dog either. She enthusiastically wagged her tail and seemed extraordinarily happy that this man paid her the time of day.

What’s her or his name?

Marshmallow. She’s a girl. I call her Mallow for short. I paused then continued softly, The daughter I never had. He seemed to like her name as he broke into a smile upon hearing it and my comparison.

Becoming impatient, I tried another tack. Look, Merrick, you realize what you are telling me is impossible, right?

He straightened up and said, Nothing is impossible for God. (Luke 1:37) Now, would you like to be shown around the town?

Sure, I said with a sigh, giving up for the time being. But could I sit down for a few moments please? This journey has worn me out. This was a lot to take in even if it was a dream, I thought, humoring myself.

We found a bench outside an ice-cream shop, and I watched people coming in and out. They would look at me and smile. I tried to smile back,