Page 9 of A Song in the Dark

Her favorite story when she was a young girl was that of Queen Esther. Mordecai called on Queen Esther to save her people, though it put her own life at risk.

“If the need becomes more urgent...” Was she being called? Was this her time?

If only she had Mum’s courage! But she didn’t. She’d grown so ...fearful. Timid.

When did that happen?

Chaisley was always ready to take on the world. She often challenged Melanie to step out of her comfortable, predictable life.

Dr. Grafton’s eyes softened. “I understand that this is a lot for you, but I’ve seen how fiercely protective you are of Chaisley. I’ve seen how passionate you are about bringing people hope.”

He tapped the letter from Mum.

“Maybe this will help more than I ever could. Just know that I will always be there for you. Always. If I need to travel across Europe to help you in some way, just say the word.”

Her heart swelled. She loved this man like a father. “Thank you, Dr. Grafton.”

“I’m sure we’ll talk much more before you leave so I’m going to go check on Chais now. The piece she’s been writing sounds like it takes at least ten hands to play.” He shook his head as he stood. “I’m sure God has an amazing plan for this trip, Melanie. He’s going to use you both in mighty ways.”

He tipped his hat and walked back toward the house.

Once he was out of sight, she looked down at the envelopes in her hands. Mum’s called to her with such a longing that she shoved the other into her pocket and ripped into the worn envelope. How long had Dr. Grafton carried this around with him?

She unfolded the paper and read.

Dearest Daughter,

You have been the light of my life. I have mourned the fact that I will not see the day you get married, or get to hold my grandchildren. But ... I am rejoicing in a way that you cannot fathom. Soon and very soon I will get to see Jesus’ face.

When we left Germany, I saw you retreat into yourself.

You became afraid of a new life—a new country, new people, and a new language.

It took almost two years for me to see my brave little girl again.

Please, my darling ... don’t retreat into fear when I’m gone.

You are older and so much wiser now. You have a wonderful job working with Chaisley.

I asked Dr. Grafton to hold this for a while so you could grieve and find your footing again, but if, by chance, you find yourself afraid of life without me, go and read the book of Esther.

Melanie’s heart fluttered. Esther.

She closed her eyes. Father God ... I don’t know what You’re doing, but I’m listening.

She inhaled the sweet fragrance of the garden long and deep, then lifted her shoulders and read on.

It was your favorite Bible story when you were little, and I believe it helped you to finally move past whatever held you back.

Melanie blinked back more tears. Mum never pushed her to get over her grief and was always right there whenever she was afraid. But Mum was also a great encourager. How many times had Melanie requested to read the story of Esther? And her mother had told her she was just as brave as Esther.

Funny, as a child, she hadn’t understood the depth of the story, but she clung to another girl swallowing her fear. Now, it resonated and thrummed within her chest.

What was God asking of her?

She had no idea. Other than to step forward in faith and let go of her fear.

But fear had become a bit comfortable. She thought of herself as the voice of reason. Keeping a realistic view of the world. Not pessimistic. Not optimistic.

Shaking her head, she cleared her mind and went back to her mother’s letter.

You have the potential to change the world, my sweet Mel. I don’t know how the good Lord will use you, but in my mother’s heart, I know He will . Don’t be afraid, precious daughter. I pray you cling to Him and seek to know Him more and more each day.

I don’t have much energy to write all that I long to say, but I pray we have the chance for many conversations in the coming days.

Since this is now after your twenty-fifth birthday, I am gifting you the last of what I had on this earth. Dr. Grafton knows how to contact Mr. Abelman, and he will give you the money I saved up for you, as well as the house left to me by my parents.

Use it for whatever God lays on your heart.

My energy is depleted but I love you, my darling daughter. Forever and always.

Remember ... “For such a time as this...” Be willing to step out in faith and courage.

Mum

She looked to the sky and watched the white clouds move and shift across the blue expanse. A slight breeze picked up and the smells of the garden intensified.

As she breathed deep, the oxygen seemed to stoke the small flame alight in her soul. She stilled, her eyes fluttering shut as warmth flooded her, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

All right, God, You have my attention. What do You have for me to do?

Chaisley sipped her t e a, the warmth coating her throat. There wasn’t anything left to do in preparation for the tour. Her trunks were packed and downstairs ready to be loaded into the car tomorrow. Melanie was somewhere in the massive house, checking off the last few tasks on her to-do list.

Chaisley took another sip, relishing the quiet of the room.

The fire crackled in the hearth, its heat soothing.

There were no other sounds in the room. Savoring the peace of the moment, Chaisley leaned back into the plush chair and kept her hands wrapped around her teacup.

This was the last time she would be alone for a long time.

Best to tuck away the memory of what peace felt like.

She’d need it when she was being shuffled from venue to hotel to venue.

A frown tugged at her lips. Gracious. They hadn’t left yet and already she was dreading the travel and tight schedule.

Not good. She needed an adjustment in her attitude before they began their journey.

A ribbon of anxiety wrapped around her ribs.

It was more than her attitude that was the issue. This whole tour had her on edge.

But why? It didn’t make sense. This is what she’d been preparing for—for months and months on end. Every time the creativity flowed and new music formed in her mind, she couldn’t wait to play it, finish it, share it.

She should be thrilled that she could travel Europe and play her music. But instead? She’d rather stay right where she was.

Her fingers trembled, sloshing warm tea onto her hand.

Chaisley wiped at it with the linen serviette in her lap, leaned forward, and finished her drink, her fingertips feeling for the cool china saucer. She slid her cup onto the small plate with a clink.

Her thoughts pecked at her like the geese at bread morsels by the pond on the back of her property.

She’d never been afraid to travel and perform.

The thrill of her fingers slipping over cool piano keys .

.. the surprised gasps from the audience as she played difficult pieces .

.. the roar of the crowd when she finished with flair a piece played to perfection . ..

Those things had inspired her. Refreshed her. Invigorated her. Her playing prowess was not in question. So why this hesitancy? Why was she reticent about leaving?

Have you prayed about it?

Heat warmed her cheeks. How many times had Grandmother asked her that question when life perplexed Chaisley?

Too many to count.

But she hadn’t prayed about it or anything else the last few months. Other than her prayers at meals and bedtime for her grandmother, she’d become stiff and reclusive. It happened before any of her big tours and she promised herself each time not to let it happen again. But it did.

Tears pricked her eyes. The Lord felt so distant. But she’d been the one to stop communicating. Stopped her excited study of Scripture each day. Her mind was consumed with the tour during church. At home, she was at the piano most every spare moment.

She dropped her head in her hands. “I’m sorry, Lord.” Her hands muffled the words.

The door burst open. “Chaisley! You have—” Melanie’s slippers slid across the wood plank floor as her words fell off. “Are you all right?”

She waved a hand. “Fine. Just thinking. Praying.”

Melanie’s steps became muffled as she crossed the rug. “Okaaaay. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not right now. But I’ll be fine.” Chaisley straightened and pasted on a smile. “You sounded excited when you opened the door.”

Her friend was silent for a moment. Then the cool weight of paper touched Chaisley’s hands. “Here. I was going through the mail and found another letter from Mary Beth. Did you write to her?”

Chaisley loved the idea that her letter had reached the young girl. “I wrote her in braille and encouraged her to respond in kind.”

“Did you tell her?”

The question hung in the air.

Over the years, Chaisley never wanted any special treatment because she couldn’t see.

In fact, she’d done her best to keep it hidden from everyone except those closest to her.

She didn’t want or need anyone’s pity. She simply wanted to be herself.

Being a famous concert pianist drew enough attention as it was.

“No.” She whispered the word then lifted her chin. “I haven’t told her.”

“Hm.” Melanie didn’t expand on that but settled into the couch. “So why tell her to write to you in braille?”

Silence fell as Chaisley’s fingers traced the lip of the envelope. “Nothing is wrong, Mel. I’ll read my letter and then come down for dinner.”

Her companion didn’t respond with words, but came close and gave Chaisley’s shoulders a squeeze.

She bit her lip, covering Melanie’s hand with her own. It wasn’t her intention to worry her friend. But she wasn’t sure she could explain all the swirling emotions inside her right now.

Soft footsteps were followed by the click of the door.

Tugging the letter free of the envelope, she found two pages. With practiced movements, she ran her fingers over the raised dots.

Dear Miss Chaisley,