“Pray for us ...”
-- by
Amanda
(July 2005)
Jessica’s heart jumped into her throat as she heard the news
from
“Oh, my God,” she whispered. Without a moment’s hesitation she picked up the phone and dialed George’s mobile number, then cursed herself for being silly enough to expect to actually get through.
“He’s a Chief Inspector at Scotland Yard, of course his line is engaged after a major bombing,” she thought to herself. But what if he’s not simply investigating, she thought after a moment. He did, after all, like most Londoners, take The Underground on a regular basis. With her mind still racing, she ran up to her study and booted up her computer…. Why was this connection so darn slow! She sighed as she peeked into her email inbox hoping there was some word that George was safely at his office. Nothing.
After a few minutes of online research, Jessica felt considerably worse. George was clearly at the very heart of danger and there was nothing for her to do at this moment but pray that he was alright. Jessica was not an overly religious woman, but she thought back to a prayer he mother had taught her when she was very small. Jessica closed her eyes and whispered:
Remember O most
gracious Virgin Mary, that never was it known, that anyone who fled to thy
protection, implored thy help or sought thy intercession was left unaided.
Inspired by this
confidence, I fly unto thee O Virgin of Virgins, my Mother.
To thee I come, before
thee I stand sinful and sorrowful. O Mother of the Word Incarnate, despise not
my petition, but in thy mercy, hear and answer me.
Please keep George
safe, she added, I love him so.
Jessica took a deep breath and opened her eyes. She noticed her cell phone sitting on her desk, where she had left it last evening. It was turned on, and a little light was flashing indicating a text message. Her heart jumped as she picked up the phone and read the message. Tears threatened to overflow from her cheeks.
“My
Dear Sweet, Jessie. Don’t
worry. I am safe and well and love you with all my heart. I will be in contact
this evening.”
With this Jessica breathed for the first time in what seemed like hours.
“Thank God,” she whispered.
Jessica had spent the rest of the day in a rather unproductive state. She knew George was safe, but she so much wanted to hear his voice, to listen to his experience and to be there for him. At 5pm Jessica’s phone rang.
“My Bonnie Lassie,” George said, the tenderness evident in his voice.
“Oh, George,” Jessica said breathlessly. “Thank God. What a day.”
“What a day indeed.” George agreed. “I can’t tell you what a wonder it is to hear your voice. I’ve thought about you often today, Jessie, I can assure you.”
“And I, you,” Jessica responded. “When I first heard of the bombings, I prayed so hard for your safety; that I’d be able to see you, again to hear your voice again…” her voice cracked slightly with emotion - “and .. and to hold you again.”
“Oh, Jessie, if I could take you in my arms and comfort you right now, I don’t believe I’d ever let you out of my sight. The things that I have seen today put everything in perspective,” George said.
“I miss you,” Jessica said in a quiet voice.
“And Heaven knows I’ve missed you, my Jessie.” He paused for a moment. “You are the answer to my prayers.”
Jessica thought for a brief moment, and realized that George was exactly right. They were the answers to the many silent prayers both Jessica and George had offered in the years after the deaths of their spouses.
“Do you want to make it official?” Jessica asked abruptly.
“Official? Jessica, it’s been a hell of a day and I’m afraid I’m not following,” George responded.
Jessica laughed slightly. “My lovely, handsome Inspector Sutherland. Today has put things in perspective for me too. When I received your message ... that was one prayer answered – you were safe. I realized that another prayer, a very BIG prayer, has been answered for quite some time now and I’m not about to let it slip away.”
“Jessie… are you serious?”
“Now more than ever,” she said. “I love you, George Sutherland.”
George was puzzled by the sound of key strokes. “Are you writing at time like this?” he asked.
Jessica smiled. “No, not writing.” She hit the enter key one last time and proudly informed him, “I’ll be joining you for dinner tomorrow.”
“I shall be waiting with open arms,” George beamed “All my prayers are answered.”