As promised, here’s a free novelette that shows the beginnings of NewAm. the setting of my new Christian series, Messengers. I hope you enjoy this free novelette–MESSENGERS–THE BEGIINNING.

This is the story of Mary and the origins of NewAm where life is perfect…unless
you believe in God. You can learn more about the series if you click on the
link below. Thanks.

AMAZON
LINK TO MESSENGERS SERIES

MESSENGERS—THE BEGINNING

She looked in the mirror. An old lady stared back. She touched her brittle gray hair. When had that happened? She hobbled over to the desk that was tucked in the corner of her room.

Her room. Her home. She shook her head. One room with a small kitchenette. That’s what her world had been reduced to. At one time, she’d had a grand house where she’d entertained the most important of people in the country. Extravagant for sure. She’d never needed, or truth be told wanted, that life.

But it had been expected, considering who she’d been married to.

Mary picked up the pen in her gnarled fingers. She rubbed her eyes. She’d put this off long enough. It wasn’t because of the danger, though she knew full well how dangerous it would be to write the words that needed written.

It was because she would come face to face with her failure. Her failure to serve the God she loved more than life. But he’d forgiven her and so now it was time to prove that.

My name is Mary Frances Wayne Matthias and I have a secret.

I’m ashamed to admit that it’s something I should have shared long ago. If I had, perhaps, life would be different now—for all of us. 

But I have to believe it’s not too late.

I have to believe I can still make a difference. Or perhaps, I just want to believe that to ease my conscience.

Either way God has forgiven me for my silence, but he’s prompted me to write down all that I can remember about the “old days.”

Even though I’m old,  I will do my best to recall events from years gone by in hopes that my words will be read by whomever God means to see them.

My words are true, but my recollections and perceptions are not necessarily the same as someone else who lived through the same events. I can only share my thoughts, my memories, and my story.

One thing I’ve learned is that the truth we see, that we believe, or even live may not necessarily be the truth at all. It is only the truth we believe. So, in fact, it may not be truth at all.

But this is my story as best I remember it.

I was born in the United States of America—land of the free and home of the brave. And then…the pandemic happened.

That’s when everything changed—at least that’s the way it seemed to me, but history tells a different story. History says that it was the gradual ending to a story that had been unfolding for generations.

The ending of that wonderful experiment called democracy.

 I’m an old lady and now I live in NewAm where we’re told it’s still the land of the free and the home of the brave. Is that the truth or only what someone wants us to believe as truth?

Life in NewAm is very different from my days as a child in the United States of America. In those days, children went to school, not a Life Training Center. Most children lived with their parents until they graduated from high school—about seventeen or eighteen.

High school graduation was an exciting time for most. It was the beginning of their adult life—the end of childhood.

Some young adults lived with their parents after graduation if they were so inclined, but most were not so inclined. They either got a job or went to college. People decided on their own what they would do or not do to make money. (Yes, we still had money then.) People decided where they wanted to live—what city, state or even another country.

Speaking of other countries, travel was a popular form of entertainment. People traveled all the time—for all sorts of reasons. Sometimes for business. Sometimes to visit family and friends. And sometimes just for the pleasure of experiencing other places and different cultures.

I’m sure that’s hard for you to imagine in a land that now encourages, or perhaps a better word is force people to live their entire life within several city blocks.

We had to pay for everything we needed or wanted from the money we earned. The government didn’t provide it. That meant some people had more than others depending on how good they were at making money and saving it.

Life wasn’t necessarily fair or equal, but we did have freedom. True freedom. We were free to make our own choices, our own opportunities, and our own mistakes.

Free to live our life the way we wanted, mistakes and all.

People married because they loved each other or thought they did. Sometimes the marriage worked out and sometimes it didn’t. There was no such thing as a mating contract that you could let lapse after a certain number of years because you wanted to explore other options.

Marriage was for life—unless it failed.

You got married and then you worked hard to make it successful. You had children and you raised them until they were ready to go out in the world on their own—not until it was time to ship them off to a life training center.

Like I said, life was very different.

 When I was very young we went to church and sang praises to the Holy One—to God. …Mary put her pen down…lost in her memories…

Mary touched her long blonde hair. It was in a pony tail today. She swirled around, admiring the pretty pink dress she’d chosen for today. She yelled down the steps. “Mommy, I’m ready for church.”  She loved going to church and singing songs to Jesus.

Her mother walked up the steps. “We aren’t going to church today, Mary..”

“Why not? It’s Sunday. We always go to church on Sunday.”

“I know we did. But we can do that any longer.”

“Won’t Jesus be mad if we don’t go?”

Her mom knelt down in front of her. “I don’t think so. Jesus is probably just as sad as we are about this. The truth is we don’t have a church anymore. The government locked up the building.”

“Then I hate the gov…gov…what did you call it?”

“Government.”

“Then I hate the government.”

“Shh…we can’t say things like that.”

“I don’t care.”

“But I care. About you, sweetie. About keeping you safe. So we can’t talk like that. Now we can’t go to church but we can go to Aunt Z’s house. You can sing to Jesus there.”

“OK. I like Auntie Z. She makes good cookies.”

Mary smiled. She hadn’t thought of Auntie Z for many years. Even through, she wasn’t her real aunt, Mary had loved her as if she were. Auntie Z was short and round. And always smiling. Probably because she ate too many of the wonderful cookies she baked quite often.

Later Mary learned the government not only outlawed church but any religious activity. But that hadn’t stopped her parents. For a few years, they’d gone to what was called house churches. Her parents and some of their friends would meet in homes and talk of God’s miraculous love, read his amazing Word, and sing wonderful songs that praised the Creator and his Son.

And then the Proofs started.

I only attended one Proof—The Last Proof.

 It was the day my mother and father died.

It was the day I was orphaned.

It was the day God gave the authorities the proof  that God was real, but they refused to accept.

It was the day the government said there were no more Christians, but they were wrong about that. Because it was the day, I became a Christian—as far as I knew at the time I was the Last Christian.

Perhaps this is why God wants me to write my story.

I’ve always fancied myself a storyteller so I’ll start my story the way all stories should be started…

Once upon a time there was a little girl named Mary Frances.

Mary had a mommy and a daddy who loved her very much. and they were all very happy…and then the pandemic happened.

CHAPTER 1

Six-year old Mary Frances leaned against the door watching Mommy and Daddy. She wasn’t allowed to go in the room because Daddy was very sick. Mommy said it was for her own protection, but it still made her mad.

Her daddy needed her.

“Daddy, I want to come in and see you.”

“No, Mary Frances. I don’t want you to get sick. Do not come in here.”

“But I want to help you. Mommy’s being mean.”

“Mommy’s not being mean. She’s keeping you safe. And that’s exactly what I want. Do you understand me, Mary Frances? No sneaking in here when Mommy’s not paying attention. Promise me.”

She sighed, “I promise, Daddy.”

Mommy walked past her and took in a tray of food into the room, but Daddy said he wasn’t hungry.

“You really need to eat something. Please, Carl, eat a little bit.”

“I know. I wi—” Daddy started coughing—and he kept coughing.

Mary could hear him gasping for breath. Mommy leaned over and rubbed his chest. “Try to take a deep breath. Let it out slowly. And another.”

When he finally stopped coughing, he said. “Thanks, Susan. You’re a great nurse.”

“I don’t know about that. I wish there was….something more I could do. Maybe, I should go sign the paper so you can get treatment.”

“Absolutely not. Promise me, Susan, not to sign the paper. No matter how sick I get. Don’t sign that paper. Ever. Never turn your back on God. What happens in this world isn’t important. We’ll be together forever. In eternity. Promise me.”

“But they won’t give you treatment if I don’t sign the loyalty oath.”

Cough. Wheeze. “I…don’t…care. We must stay faithful. To God. We must stand firm. Only our faith in God can save us, not some loyalty oath that denies God.”

“I know. I know. You’re right.” Mary peeked her head in. Mommy was crying. Mommy leaned over toward Daddy and kissed his forehead. “But this is so hard. I love you so much. I can’t do this. I…I need you.”

“You can do this. You’re stronger than you know. With God, all things are possible. Look to God for your strength. He will never forsake you.”

“I know, but—”

“I love you. And Mary so… I’m so sorry I caught the virus. I should have been more careful.”

“It’s not your fault. You had to go to work.”

The coughing started again.

Lots of people had died from the stupid virus. She’d heard them talking about it on TV. Mary needed to help her daddy. She went to the door. “Mommy, can I come in?”

“No, you can’t. sweetie. Daddy doesn’t want you to get sick.”

“But I want to help Daddy.”

“You can help Daddy by not coming in and getting sick. That would only make him worry.”

“But he’s so sick. Is he going to die?”

“Only God knows that, Mary. But if he does, God will take care of him. And us.” Her mother wiped Daddy’s face. He’d stopped coughing. He looked so pale. So weak. Mommy turned toward her. “Hush now. Daddy needs to rest.”

“I love you, Daddy.” She called from the doorway.

He opened his eyes. “I love you, sweetie. Never forget that.”

Mommy patted his cheek and then walked to the little tray outside Daddy’s room. Mommy cleaned her hands and took off her mask. Then she took hold of Mary’s hand and gave her a little tug. “Come on, sweetie. Daddy needs to rest.”

“I’m scared, Mommy.” Still holding hands, they walked down the hall and into the living room.

“Me too. But we have to trust God.”

“Why did God let Daddy get sick?”

“It wasn’t God. It’s just the world we live in. People get sick. It happens.”

“But if God loves us, he wouldn’t let Daddy be sick?”

Mommy stopped walking and knelt down in front of her. She took Mary’s chin in her hand. Her voice serious. “That’s not true, Mary. God loves us so much that he let his own son die for us so we could live in heaven with him forever. Bad things happen in this life, but our life on earth is temporary. Heaven is forever. Never forget that. No matter what anyone tells you.”

“But I don’t want Daddy to die.”

“I don’t either, but remember this earth is not our final home. Heaven is our real home. Forever and ever. When it’s your time to go to heaven, you’ll be with Daddy and me and Jesus forever and ever.”

She stood up and they walked down the steps.

“Is heaven nice, Mommy?”

“Nice? No. No. No. Not nice. Amazing. Wonderful. Spectacular. The best place in the whole wide world.”

“I want to go there.”

“And you will. As long as you believe Jesus is the son of God and that he died and rose again on the third day.

“If Daddy dies, maybe, he’ll rise again on the third day.”

“No, Mary. That won’t happen.” Mommy sat down on the couch and put her on her lap. She hugged Mary close to her.. “Don’t be scared about Daddy. God never forsakes his children. Jesus is the way, the truth and the life. Through him, we never die.”

“Because we get to go to heaven?”

“Exactly, smart girl. If you believe Jesus is the son of God, you might die here on earth. But then you go to heaven and live with God forever.”

“And with Daddy?”

“And with Daddy.”

“Forever? That’s a long time, Mommy.”

“Yep. A long, long, long time.”

“Tell me more about heaven, Mommy?”

“The Bible doesn’t tell us a lot, but the things it tells us are so wonderful. It says all sickness and pain will be gone. No suffering at all. Jesus will wipe away our tears.”

“I love Jesus.”

“And Jesus loves you.”

“Heaven sounds like a good place.”

“It’s more than good.  But remember, you only get to go to heaven if you believe Jesus is the way, the truth and the life.”

“I believe that, Mommy. Does that mean I get to go to heaven? With Daddy?”

“Yes, some day.” Mommy hugged her so tightly. She was crying. “But hopefully not for a long long time.”

“Are you sad, Mommy? Because Daddy’s sick.”

“Yes, I’m sad, but I know that Jesus is…” She paused.

“The way, the truth, and the life.”

“Good girl. You’re so smart.”

“Thank you, Mommy. Can you read to me.?” She handed Mommy her favorite book.

Mommy smiled at her. “THE UGLY BUGLY WHO TRIED TO CANCEL EASTER. Didn’t I just read this to you yesterday?”

“But it’s my favorite.”

“Well, if it’s your favorite then I guess I’ll read it to you again.” Mommy opened the book.

Easter was fast approaching in the Land of Plenty.

So busy—so much to do!

Easter hams.

Easter egg hunts for the little runts.

Chocolate bunnies to be bought.

The Ugly Bugly sat in his Ugly Bugly hole and wondered.

I thought Easter was about the Risen Savior, not jellybeans and peeps.

The People of Plenty have forgotten.

So there is no need for Easter.

The Ugly Bugly laughed.

As he watched the People of Plenty making their plans.

He had a plan of his own.

To cancel Easter.

So busy—so much to do!

The Ugly Bugly crawled out of his Ugly Bugly hole.

He looked around.

He stretched his wings from the sky to the ground.

And he laughed some more.

So busy—so much to do!

But what could he do?

After all, he was only one little ugly bugly.

He thought and he thought.

And then he knew.

There was only thing he had to do.

 Keep the People of Plenty in the dark.

If it stayed dark, there could be no sunrise.

If there were no sunrise, there could be no Easter.

It was the perfect plan!

So busy—so much to do!

He flew away from his Ugly Bugly hole and into the Land of Plenty.

Everywhere he flew he left a drop or two of mist and dew.

Not much, just enough for one or two.

But the darkness grew.

Along with the darkness, came the fear.

Darkness and fear.

No sunrise.

No Easter!

The Ugly Bugly laughed and cheered as he shouted with glee. “No sunrise; No Easter!”

His plan made perfect.

Easter was cancelled indeed!

The People of Plenty sat in their houses, so afraid and sad.

Life was so bad.

And they were so mad.

No Easter hams.

No Easter egg hunts for the little runts.

No chocolate bunnies to be bought.

In the twinkling of an eye, they went from the Land of Plenty to the Land of Darkness. Fear, and Want.

People bought and bought.

They did not share.

They did not care.

The Ugly Bugly laughed and cheered.

Knowing he had won.

Easter was cancelled indeed!

But then the people opened their Bibles.

But then the people sang praises to God.

But then the people looked to the Cross.

And they remembered.

Easter wasn’t about ham or eggs or even chocolate bunnies.

Easter was about the Risen Savior indeed!

Death and Darkness could not stop him then.

Nor would it stop Him now.

The people left their sad little houses.

And walked out into the darkness.

Holding high their crosses of light.

They sang praises to the Risen Savior.

And the sunrise came.

And with the sunrise, Easter came.

And the People of Plenty proclaimed.

Jesus is the Risen Savior indeed!

The Ugly Bugly frowned and stomped his feet.

No1 No! No!

This simply wouldn’t do.

He would start again.

More darkness.

More fear.

More dread.

But the People of Plenty had remembered.

They refused to listen.

They sang ever louder and louder.

They held their crosses higher and higher.

Because they knew no weapon formed against them could prosper.

And that the Risen Savior loved them indeed!

Mommy closed the book. “The end.”

“Does Daddy have the Ugly Bugly?”

“I think he does.”

“We hate the Ugly Bugly, don’t we?”

“Yes, we do. But that old Ugly Bugly isn’t as strong as God. Remember in the story the Ugly Bugly wasn’t able to cancel Easter. Instead everyone lifted their hands to God. That’s important to remember.”

“I’ll remember, Mommy. I’ll remember.”

Mommy started coughing.

MORE TO COME…