---

Danny gains his - Salvation

---

---

Restoration

"Mrs. Soriano says that Tanisha is going home tomorrow." Linda paused as tears came to her eyes. "It doesn't look good, and they wanted her to be home when...." Linda sat on the bench outside the ward next to Danny.

"I hate this part of it," Danny said. He and Linda grew attached to the children at the oncology ward, despite their efforts. Some psychologists and perhaps other medical professionals may have advised the two to stay uninvolved, but it was entirely appropriate for two teenagers to cry at this news. Part of Danny was relieved, at least only for the moment. As selfish as this may sound, the sad part of their work with the kids was helpful to Danny, since the attention was taken off him (which should be the case anyway.) Linda hadn't brought up what she had seen at his house, despite the fact that it was nearly three weeks since she "caught" him at home wearing girl's clothes; more accurately, she caught him wearing his mother's lovely gray skirt and an ice blue satin blouse. Actually, she hadn't caught him at anything because she, with the help of her Uncle Ben, figured out that he wasn't really doing anything wrong. But at this point, Danny still wasn't sure about that either, which lead to his understandable confusion. He had a long talk with Linda's Aunt Gina, Ben's wife. They had at least figured out that wearing a dress was what he did, and only partly defined who he was. All that to say, he didn't want to talk about it with Linda. She, however, had other ideas.

Linda looked at Danny and said,

"I do, too!" She began to sob. "She was getting...better." What took place next would have been unremarkable for some,
but for Linda and Danny, was absolutely remarkable. Linda looked at Danny once again and then buried her face in his arms. She had been involved with the program from the beginning. Some of the kids had been at the hospital for months, and she had grown attached; who wouldn't. Her emotions were bound to rise to the surface, but her expression of those emotions was a complete surprise, even to her. She had not yet confronted, no....discussed her concerns, as Uncle Ben would have reminded her, about Danny's...choice of apparel. In spite of the fact that her concerns were unresolved, she felt secure around him. He was safe, but not in the safe way. Almost like Aslan from Narnia…”Is he a safe lion? Safe…

No, he’s not safe, but he’s good!” She knew about his years of abuse by his dad and uncle, and she respected his courage. She had seen a completely different side of the boy...the young man who had been teased and taunted by his peers. This guy next to her was considerate and kind, thoughtful and selfless. Sure, maybe she was only seventeen, but she was beginning to fall in love with him. It was somewhat premature, and definitely but appropriately immature. But in her own, seventeen-year-old way, it was a beginning. At least to her.

Danny would have been pleased for the attention of an attractive girl, but his mind was on something else. He patted her back softly as he tried to find words that would console her...console them both for their inevitable loss. He had no words, but for the tearful, "I know...I know," which were the words both of them needed to hear.

 

"I just don't know how to...ask the question," Linda said to Gina, who was pouring some kibbles into a dish for Rocco.

"How about....’Danny? Why did you choose the satin blouse to go with the corduroy skirt?’" Gina thought she was clever, but the glare she got from her niece told her otherwise.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. I know this is very hard for you," she said as she walked back to the kitchen table. She walked behind her niece and began to rub her shoulders. Linda tensed up but began to relax as her Aunt kneaded the nervous kinks out of her neck.

"If you say, 'Danny, we NEED to talk," he'll know immediately what that's all about, and may clam up. Hey, if you just say 'Danny,' he's going to feel threatened. There's not going to be any easy answers today, honey, so the only advice I can give is to pray for the right moment." Gina was careful not to reveal anything remotely connected to any of her conversations with Danny. But Linda was her niece, so it was also appropriate for her to encourage Linda to talk. Ben had done that as well, and even though the relationship between the two teens was anxious, they set aside their own fears for the sake of the kids at the hospital, and continued to meet almost every other day.

"Linda, honey. Remember one thing....no matter what, he's still your best friend, and apart from us adults, you're the only friend he has. You have to remind yourself that. Don't worry about the results." At that, she felt Linda tense up, and she quickly added,

"I'm sorry, but that's just what it is right now. If you continue to love him like a friend and trust God for everything else, believe me, it'll work out. I promise." Being married to a wonderfully sensitive man who occasionally wore dresses himself gave Gina the absolute authority to say that. And she had found that trusting God works wonders, regardless of the situation.

 

"Excuse me," the man on the phone said. "May I speak with Danny Argento, please."

"Danny isn't home from school just yet, may I ask who's calling?" Grace said.

"This is Jerry Davis, from Central High. I'm the new baseball coach. Could you have him stop by the A.D. office tomorrow? I'd like to talk with him."

"Yes, I'll give him the message." Grace put down the phone. She didn't know why she did what she did next, but it felt good. She clenched her fist and pumped it twice, saying,

"Yes!"

 

"Oh, Danny, come on in and sit down." Jerry said, pointing to the chair in front of his desk. Danny hesitated until Jerry said, "I promise...no tacks, no paint, nothing."

"I'm sure you heard that Coach G. is retiring. I want you to know that I am sorry for the circumstances that led to my getting this job. I was the assistant coach over at Upper Merion last season, and I witnessed some of the things that went on...with your Uncle, God rest his soul. I'm sorry he lost his job, because he would be sitting in this chair but for that. And I am so sorry about his death. I know it must have been difficult for you."

Danny started to get red, and he wanted to get up and leave until Jerry continued.

"To be treated like that, it must have been difficult to forgive him, and especially since he died." Jerry leaned forward slightly, his hands on his desk. Danny noticed a Bible sitting on the desk underneath some manila folders.

"I want you to know that I remember the play you made in the semi's. Not too many people can think of making that play, much less make it. Phil Johnson actually has it on video. Now no one expects you to hit like Jimmy Rollins, but I like your defense. It'll be hard, considering the jokers who are still the team might ride you, but I think it's worth the effort. Just think about it. No promises...we won't pretend there's a full ride waiting for you at Temple, but I'm pretty sure you might still miss playing. Think about it, Danny."

Danny stood up, a confused look on his face.

"And Danny? Practice is right after school until five, so you still have time to do other things...don't neglect them.

This is only a game. Thanks for coming in."

 

Danny walked out of Jerry's office. He would have been surprised to see the two pictures on Jerry's desk. Oh, the first picture wouldn't have been a complete surprise; it was a photo of Jerry and his wife Michelle and their two little girls. The other photo would have completely taken Danny off guard, and the last thing Jerry needed was to have his starting shortstop crying in his office. The other photo had a pretty woman, about twenty-one. His sister Joann...She was holding a two year old...her son Joey..." Jerry wiped the tears from his eyes and picked up his Bible and began to read.

 

"Danny?" Linda said, fully appreciating the impact that one word would have. "Can we talk for a while?" They sat on a bench outside the school, waiting for her mother to pick them up.

Midterms were upon them, and Linda was glad that the other kids would not be coming today. She needed some time alone with Danny, and this was likely the only chance she'd get. Danny glanced at her crosswise and started to get up, but she grabbed his arm gently.

"Please...it'll only take a few moments, and I promise not to ask a lot of questions. Please?" Her last please sounded more like "pleathe," you know...Katie Couric? Danny sat back down reluctantly.

"I just want to ask you one question, okay? She smiled at him nervously, but tried to convey as much acceptance as she could. She placed her hand on his arm once again and continued.

"I want to understand you." Danny tensed, but she continued. "You are my best friend, and I want to understand you. I don't understand, and I want to. You are too important to me." With that she grabbed his hand and squeezed. "Just promise me that when the time is right, we can talk. Just that, okay?"

Danny wanted to say no...He was embarrassed about being embarrassed, and was afraid someone might notice the color of his face darkening. But the thing that changed his mind was the look in her face when she asked. She was smiling, but her eyes were misty. Something in that look and the words, "best friend" convinced him.

"Okay, Linda." He never called her by her first name. In fact, he never called her anything. He found it hard to speak to her, and his conversation with Gina last week helped him understand why. His feelings went beyond their mutual interest and passion for the children. Sure, he was only a seventeen year old guy, and some of what he felt was premature and maybe immature, but that was okay. Everything in its time and place. But Ben had told him that it was more important to be honest than understood. And Linda deserved at least that much. "Okay."

 

The sweatpants and baseball tee lay in a pile next to the bathroom door. A baseball glove, only recently having been used after a long hiatus, lay on the bed, along with a somewhat satisfied basset hound. The room was brighter than usual; the overhead light was on for a change. The girl stood in front of the mirror. Her hair, recently cut shorter for some reason, still looked long enough for her satisfaction. She wore some blush and lip gloss, and her face was adorned by an uncharacteristic smile. She wore a teal tee and white clam diggers, only recently purchased with birthday money she had saved. She wore a pair of sandals that she had borrowed from her mother. It was a very rainy Thursday, and the weather had provided her with a free afternoon. Her mother wouldn't be home for another two hours, so she had time to relax and read before starting dinner. She was about to leave the bedroom when the girl in the mirror waved for her attention. She stared in, waiting for the girl to speak.

"Are you really going to tell her about me? You're not going to back out now, are you? The girl in the mirror had only recently discovered her manners and quickly apologized.

"I'm sorry...I promised not to tease. Please tell her about me." The girl looked at her image and answered.

"I....I'm not sure I can." She would have cried under these circumstances in the past, but talks with friends helped her feel better about herself. "But I want to...I do."

"Please...I promise I'll behave," she heard her image say.

"Okay...I'll tell her about you....about me, I mean." She really wasn't crazy, you know. She was just having a talk with herself, like we all do from time to time.

"Okay...can we rehearse...Just a little?" The girl smiled and continued before the other girl had a chance to interrupt.

"Linda Sorrento? I am so pleased to meet you."

"No...WE are not going to meet her...not just yet. Just a talk for now." The girl in the mirror started to mist up, but the girl on the outside continued. "I'm sorry....We...I will meet her...I promise, but not tomorrow. Maybe next month."

She really wanted to say, "next year," but the girl in the mirror would have been majorly disappointed. "You know how busy we...I am." In spite of the perfectly normal and acceptable conversation she was having, she nevertheless felt uncomfortable. She was really just getting to know the girl in the mirror.

"At least tell her my name, can you? Please?

"Okay, but we never really...what's your name?"

The girl in the mirror closed her eyes and folded her arms, thinking for several moments. She opened her eyes and giggled, as if she discovered something for the first time.

"Danielle Paula Argento....but I prefer Paula, okay?"

The girl smiled at her image and then to herself. She looked back at her image in the mirror and for the first time in their lives, they actually liked what each other saw.

"Paula," the girl said with a smile as she walked out of the room,

"Paula...I like that," she said as she walked down the hall to the kitchen for some tea, a happy basset hound at her
feet, tail wagging in approval.

 

Completion

"Hey, Danielle...coach wants to see you. Maybe the softball team needs a cheerleader," the boy said. Danny looked up from his book and smiled. Things had changed since last season...no, change that. No Thing had changed, but Danny had.

He was finally at a place of peace in his life. Well, as much peace as any boy who has to face finals, continue visiting sick children, play starting shortstop (with some success, I might add) among other things.

"Thanks, Chuck." He smiled as he got up, and ran off to the coach’s office, leaving Chuck to wonder what just had happened. What had happened in one year was that Danny had discovered despite rumors to the contrary, he wasn’t such a bad kid after all. Seriously, he continued to struggle with doubt and issues regarding self-esteem which arose from years of abuse by his father and uncle. But he had friends; true friends that actually cared about him. And then there was Linda. She patiently continued to wait for their little "talk" to take place, not once asking him if he was ready, and he welcomed her patience, as he wondered if he would ever have the courage to talk with her regarding what she had seen.

 

"Hey, Dan, come on in." For some reason, Coach Davis felt it more appropriate to call him that.

"Now, I know about your situation and all, so don’t start apologizing before I’ve said anything." Danny wondered what his "situation" might be. No, dear readers, not that one. Grace Argento made just enough money to be disqualified for aid, but not enough to put Danny through college.

"I’ve got a cousin over at U.S.P. (University of Science of Philadelphia). You, young man, happen to be in the right place at the right time, like people say. I sent him your pre-lim grades, and he thinks it will be enough to enter their undergrad Psych program. I know how much you have invested in your time at the hospital, and with your background (at this, Danny cringed in embarrassment). Jerry put down the papers he held in his hand and got up. He walked slowly to the office door and closed it.

"Dan," he said as he sat down. Most kids would have needed a hug for assurance at this point, but Jerry figured what they were talking about was difficult enough without adding to the embarrassment. "I’ve talked with Gina Kelly over at the Middle School. I didn’t ask her any specific questions, but several of us at Central know what your Uncle Jack put you through, and some of us in town knew about how your Dad treated you. Gina says you are one of the most sensitive people she has ever met, and your work with Linda over at the hospital proves it." At one time, Jerry would have held back what he was about to say, but Danny needed to hear it. He reached over to the picture on his desk and turned it to face Danny. He continued.

"My sister Joann told me how you treated Joey." Danny’s eyes widened in recognition and quickly looked away. "Son," Jerry started to say. It was the first time in his life that Danny had heard that word in that way, and he began to weep. "Someone once wrote that we should comfort others with the same comfort we have received. I believe that you are capable of being for other’s what your Dad never was for you. You were there for Joey, and the other kids, and I think you should think about continuing." Jerry’s eyes were filled with tears. If Danny’s teammates had seen the two of them, they would have laughed, sadly out of ignorance and their own lack.

Jerry composed himself and continued. "Anyway, there’s a scholarship waiting for you, if you decide to accept. Four years, conditional upon grades, of course, and they just might need a shortstop for their baseball team."

Danny looked up, almost in a daze. This couldn’t be happening to him. He was so used to bad things, that it was almost impossible to imagine something good might happen. At least that was the way he felt. Now, with friends and family and a renewed faith in God, he was able to received, if awkwardly, what Jerry had to say.

"I...I didn’t know," he said, looking at the little boy in the photo.

"Joann had him when she was nineteen. She and her boyfriend broke up right after Joey was born, and she blamed herself for his illness. It must have been a punishment, she used to say. But first Linda and then you came to visit the kids, and she saw that what she saw as a punishment was really an opportunity to see how much God loves us." It’s hard not to cry when you hear something like that, but Danny quickly reverted to form. He was glad the door was closed and no one saw the coach get up from his chair. No one saw him stand over the boy as he wept, crying soft but manly tears over the boy. No one saw him lean over and kiss the boy on the top of the head, a fatherly kiss to console and encourage. "It’s okay, my wife Michelle says I cry more than any man she ever met, but she still loves me, Dan..Go ahead and cry...I miss the little guy something awful myself."

 

"Can you do me a favor, Ben?" Danny said to his friend. "Oh, Gina, I’m sorry, you, too." He apologized quickly. Rocco looked almost hurt that he hadn’t been included, but he would be anyway.

"Sure, Danny my boy," Ben said playfully, his brogue thickening somewhat for effect.

"I have something I need to talk with Linda about, and I don’t think I can handle this on my own." He looked down and covered his face with his hand. Gina finished wiping the dish she held and walked over to the table. She reached down and grabbed Danny’s chin gently.

"It’s okay, sweetie." She smiled and looked at Ben for approval before she continued.

"I think we need to talk to you before you talk with Linda. What we say might help you a little." She sat down at the table and continued. Ben excused himself and left the room. "That’s okay, honey, I’ve just got something to take care of, won’t be long," he said as he left the kitchen.

Danny looked up, relieved that Ben had left the room. He struggled to fight back the tears, but his shame came back like a flood as he looked at the empty doorway.

 

"Not as easy as we wanted it to be, is it, sweetie?" Gina said. "Honey, it’s okay...it’s okay to be a man and cry.

After what you’ve been through, it makes me want to cry for you. Ben understands (Danny would find out shortly how much) and he doesn’t think anything less of you."

"But," Danny began, and he didn’t stammer. "It’s been months..since..." He was having a fair amount of success fighting the tears, not so much not to cry as to continue talking.

"Go on, honey, it’s okay." Gina said with a soft smile.

"Since she saw me dressed...as Paula." He began to sob, not knowing whether his new friends could still love him and accept him.

"Sweetie, it’s okay." Imagine the sweetest music you’ve ever heard, almost unbearably sad and yet with hope, like Perlman playing Schindler’s List. Gina loved Danny like a big sister. She accepted him, not because she was a counselor, not for the doctorate she held, but for the compassion and love that nudged her gently into her chosen profession. Today she was a friend and family to a boy who had received little in the way of acceptance by more than a few members of his own family. His mother loved and accepted him, but that’s what mothers do, isn’t it?

"We will be with you every step of the way." She paused, questioning her next words, but she continued. "I told someone recently that we can’t worry about results. We can only be as honest and loving as possible, and God will help us sort out the details." She rubbed his shoulders. Another time and another place, he would have shrugged off her attention, feeling even more unworthy and ashamed. Today, however, he was able to receive the love of a good friend. She continued to pat his back with an occasional "there, there," assisted by the snuffling yips of the bull terrier rubbing against Danny’s shins.

 

"I’m sorry," the voice softly said from the archway, "I can come back another time. Please forgive my intrusion." Danny looked up to see a pretty blond woman. He recalled meeting her somewhere. Noticing his expression, the woman went on.

"I’m Ben’s sister Katie, and you, if I recall correctly, are Danny...Danny Argento."

Danny was surprised at the woman’s recollection of his name, but would be much more surprised in a few moments.

"Katie, Danny has been struggling with something that he has to tell a friend, and I think he’s afraid that she’ll reject him." Danny was surprised at Gina’s candor. He immediately tensed, as Gina expected he might, but she continued. "Sweetie, I haven’t said anything to Katie about your situation, and I would never unless you gave me permission. But Katie has some experience with some of the things you’ve been through. Why don’t I let her explain."

She looked at Katie and smiled, mouthing the words, "I love you."

"My father was a terrible person. He married my mother right after university, and she had me when she was twenty-three. He was older than her, and he treated her..." Katie’s eyes misted at the thought. "She loved him and he treated her like dirt. It killed her eventually...the insults, the constant belittlement. He was almost never physically abusive, but enough to hurt her beyond repair." Her eyes filled with tears, as if she could hear her mother’s sobs at that moment. "I couldn’t take the hurt....all the time. From the time we moved to the states until she died I cried every night. A lot for me, but mostly because I felt so helpless and alone." She looked at Danny and saw a glimmer of recognition...a moment of connection. "I know a boy such as yourself...excuse me, a young man such as yourself may not ever have seen it, but there was a picture once...maybe you’ve heard of it? The Little Princess. From my fourteenth birthday, the week after we got to the states, until I went off to college myself, I was like that little girl, in her own room, in her own world. My father never came back from the war like the little princess. He left my mother for another woman, and I haven’t seen him since. I wanted so much...I wanted so much to be loved, and he never did." Gina got up from the table and stood beside Katie. She kissed Katie on the top of the head, saying through her own sobs,

"It’s okay, honey, go ahead."

"It took me years to realize that he’d never come back. Oh, I knew he’d left physically forever. I just never realized how much I missed what he never gave me. But eventually, through the help of some good people, I was able to get help. With the help of some friends, I was able to find my way back to God. And with His help, I was able to find my way back to family."

Danny tried to take it all in, but he couldn’t. He didn’t have to take it all in; like strong effective medicine, it sometimes only works a little at a time in small doses. But he took in enough. He wiped his face with his sleeve, even excusing himself politely for the gesture. And he asked a very important question.

"Where was Ben?" He looked at Katie with some anger, as if someone should have protected Katie and her mom. (Some One did, but you already know that.) "Where was he when this happened...how could he let it happen."

"Oh, sweetheart, he couldn’t have stopped it, though he tried. I remember once he (and this is where it would get confusing if you didn’t know Katie or Ben) stepped in front of Mum when Daddy was yelling at her. She was crying so bad, and he just couldn’t take it. ‘Stop’, he said, ‘Stop’ but Daddy had the drink on. He slapped Ben so hard that he sent him flying into the wall. There was blood all over, and Mummy couldn’t stop it. Daddy cried ‘I’m sorry,’ and took him to hospital for stitches." Gina had not heard this part of "Katie’s" story, and she began to weep. Danny expected that Gina would respond in compassion for a story like this, but she seemed way too connected. "Oh, honey, I didn’t know."

"Ben was there the entire time, only he was so helpless and with no one to turn to. He heard it every day, from the time he saw Daddy in the morning until he went to bed every night. ‘You worthless sod....you...sissy...you’re just...like your mother." By now everyone was crying; Katie from the memory; Gina out of love; and Danny out of compassion. “You’re just like your mother,” a familiar phrase that Danny heard every day of his life while his own father was alive; what should have been a blessing, but instead had become a curse or indictment. And then…

Imagine trying to find something you’ve lost...something of so much value that you would give your life for it...that you already had given your life for it. Imagine rooting around on a dirty floor in the dark, wondering if you’ll ever find it again. Then someone turns on a light...the light not only lights the room, it falls directly on the one thing you thought you’d lost. If Joey’s death was the means of forgiveness, then Katie’s story showed Danny his salvation.

"Buhhh...but I don’t understand." Danny actually did, but he couldn’t believe what he had just heard or seen. He looked at Katie and noticed a small scar over her right eye. "Ben?" Danny said, his eyes filled with tears of understanding and acceptance and forgiveness. "Ben?"

Gina stood up, her hand brushing Katie’s shoulder softly as she walked next to Danny. She leaned over and kissed him sweetly on the cheek, saying softly,

"As ever was, Honey, as ever was."

 

"I’m not ready," the girl said from her home in the mirror.

"After all this, you can’t just change your mind," the other girl said back. She stared at her image in the mirror, and the girl glared back. "Don’t you look at me that way....It was your idea, and besides, she’s on her way over here, so you might as well get ready."

"Fine," her image said, looking almost as if she wanted to cry. "Tell me again what she said.

"We went over this. She understands that I don’t know everything about you. No, I haven’t told her everything. I’m not sure I was ready for everything myself, but I’m ready for this, even if I’m not!" She looked at her image in the mirror. Like I said before, they were only just getting to know each other, so explaining the girl in the mirror would be difficult. She decided that she cared too much about her friend to stop now. Her friend accepted completely that she didn’t know everything about herself; that she would be there to help her discover and learn and grow.

 

Linda walked up the steps to the front door. She had walked from her Aunt Gina’s house after two cups of tea, a good cry, a long prayer and hugs and kisses from Ben and Gina. She knew one thing alone that she would believe with all her heart. She was here to visit her best friend. She was here to show her support, and most of all, she was here to show her friend the love that God has for his children. She knocked once on the door, almost afraid that it would open, but she waited patiently, nonetheless. After what seem like an eternity, the door opened. A pretty teenage girl stood at the door. She was the same age, perhaps a little older than Linda. She wore jeans and a maroon tee shirt, covered by a beige cardigan. Her black hair fell to just above her shoulders and was pulled back into a loose ponytail. She wore some blush and lip gloss and just a hint of eye shadow. Her smile was genuinely welcoming, even if just a little bit nervous. She was about Linda’s height; she wore her mother’s sandals out of habit. A basset hound peer out from behind the girls legs, his tail wagging in recognition.

"Hi, Scooter," she said awkwardly, glad for at least a brief moment that the introduction was delayed. The girl in front of her made no pretense. They had never actually "met," but they had been friends...best friends. The friendship would change, it would never be the same again, and that would be okay... that’s how life usually works. The girl leaned forward. No girly kisses like pre-teens; just a real hug from one friend to another. Linda accepted the hug awkwardly at first, but quickly held her best friend as if she would never let go.

A voice in the back of the girl’s head said quietly but with some insistence,

"Go ahead...you promised."

The girl pulled back from the embrace and smiled, nervously at first, but with relief after seeing the look of acceptance on Linda’s face.

"She...." The girl’s face started to redden. "I wanted to tell you my name."

Linda said nothing, but reached forward and grabbed the girl’s hands in hers.

"Go ahead, what’s your name?" But it sounded more like "whathe."

"Paula...Paula Argento."

 

Danny went on to college and took Coach’s advice. He did specialize in psych, but only played two seasons of baseball.

He eventually got his doctorate and specializes in child psychology at a kid’s residential program in the Philly area.

Linda works as a grief counselor and still volunteers at the hospital where their story began. And they married, almost immediately after Linda finished her master’s. I believe Gina’s response at the engagement was, "Absolutely friggin fantastic." Jerry Davis served as best man and Gina was the matron-of-honor. Along with Grace and Linda’s family and their friends, the wedding party included two ring bearers; a old but frisky bull terrier and a loveable basset hound. After settling in, God blessed the couple with twin girls, Gina and Grace. They go to the same high school where their mom and dad went and where Aunt Gina now heads the guidance department.

Danny still has the cards his mother gave him to this day. A little dog-eared and faded, they remain part of the treasured legacy that his mother left him. She passed just after the girls’ sixth birthday. He also saved the letter of acceptance from college, which holds a place in his Bible along with card he gave Grace for his own birthday. He really didn’t get it right…the quote. "He who is forgiven much loves much," is what it really should read, but he was actually right. He needed to forgive as much as be forgiven. When my own mother was dying, she asked me if I could help her discover if she had forgiven someone enough. I simply said, "If you can ask that question, then you probably already have. We may all, from time to time, ask ourselves the same questions, gentle reader, for that is what life is all about; acceptance and forgiveness.

Along with the usual gifts, the girls received hand-made cards for their seventeenth birthday. Not normally a hallmark birthday, if you’ll excuse the expression, but an important milestone in the Argento home. The cards spoke a blessing over each girl; Danny and Linda wanted them to know the love and acceptance that they both had experienced. And one more thing. The family mantle piece gained an old photo the day of their birthday. A nice photo of Linda and her very best friend ever; two teenage girls at college for the first time. Linda thought it was a good idea, and it was probably high time, as my mother used to say. I can’t recall which twin asked the question, but it went something like this.

"Mommy…who’s Paula?"