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Angela Reynolds had a new look in her eyes than she had before. It was one of new hope, and one of a bright resolution.
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In a not so over-chipper voice she said, “Come in and sit down.”
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I then proceeded to ask how she was feeling and asked her other questions to determine how she was. After ten minutes went by, an young girl and boy entered the room. I said “Hello, I am your new minister, Pastor Nathan Bishope. How are you two children today?”
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“Not so happy that this week was the week that dad was killed,” said the girl. She then said, “Oh but my name is Jewell Gabrielle and this is my younger brother Johnathan.”
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Jewell started to cry some tears when I said that her daddy was just fine and in the hands of God.
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“Trust me Jewell, I know what it is like to lose both my parents at a young age. But the Lord sent me some new loving parents to help me through the pain.” I noticed that this family must have gone through a great time of pain, losing a parent like I did, I understood their pain. I knew that someone being there for me was a great help thus I offered a helping hand, “Mrs. Reynolds, if you ever need me to run any errands for you, it would be an honor to help.”
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“Thank you, Pastor.”
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After a whole year of running errands for Angela, her and I became best friends. She asked me one night to take her and her children to dinner. We had fun at Reynolds Cafe in town. My favorite meal from there was the Country Fried Steak Dinner. I got time to bond and talk with Angela’s children and grew to know their likes and desires. As I also learned their mother’s dreams, something seemed different between us. This continued for two other times. On the third time, Angela had left her children with their Aunt Elaine.
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Angela on that night had a very fancy desert she ordered that she said she would pay for. As I was sitting there, I wondered what it could be. After our meal, Angela took out a box and then she outright, in front of everyone else proposed to me.
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One month later, we got married and then when we got home Jewell asked to go to a friend's house and then Angela told her, “No, sweety, not now.”
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Jewell then asked again and then I said in a low quiet tone, “Jewell, your mother said no.”
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She then yelled out, “Your not my father, don't tell me what to do!”
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I was shocked. The sweet girl who I had known for a year now had just yelled at me. And then she ran to her room crying. Angela was about to run in there and see what was the real reason, but I stopped her saying, “Angy, this is something I need to resolve myself.”
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I opened the door to Jewell's room and was greeted by a “go-away.” I shut the door quietly, sat down on the chair by her desk and said with a voice that was calm and assuring, “Jewell, remember what I said when we first met?”
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She sniffled a bit and dried some tears and said, “Yeah.”
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“The Lord sent me to help you through the pain. Did you know that?”
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“No,” she said with tears starting to well up in her eyes.
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I sighed and continued, “I can’t help you through that pain, kiddo, if you won’t tell me or you mother what is bothering you. Why did you really want to go see your friend?”
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“I really don’t want to talk about it.” Her voice had a slight tinge of irritation, so I did what any parent in my situation would do, ask some leading questions. “Jewell, why did you say I’m not your father?”
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“Because you aren’t,” she snapped.
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Now that I had some confirmation of her feelings, I knew the source. I turned the conversation back to what was bothering her. “Jewell, if you needed to go to your friend's house to talk with her, why didn’t you say so? I know that even after my salvation, I still needed someone to talk to about the loss of a dear person.”
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“Who was that?”
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Jewell's interest was peaked and I started to regret what I had just said, but I had to tell her.
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“Your mother.”
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“How did you lose her?”
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“Jewell, I know we will never resolve this unless I tell you.”
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“Tell me what?”
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I let out a small sigh and prayed that the Lord would give me strength to say what I needed to say.
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“Jewell, your father did not die there in the alley like they said he did.”
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“How do you know this,” she asked with a slightly irritated voice.
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Somehow all Johnathan's memories came flooding into my head. I let out a small groan and I pulled out Johnathan's watch and glasses to show her.
She looked at the watch and glasses and froze, as if to look at the blue rims that were starting to fade, and the dull metal of the wrist watch in my hand. Jewell asked in a slightly apprehensive voice, “Where did you get those?”
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“I have had them since March 7, 2027.”
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“What, you’re telling me that you're my dad?”
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“Yes, Jewell, I am your father.” I suddenly started to feel like a load had been lifted off my chest, but then I knew things had just got suddenly worse.
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“Then why did you leave me and Mom at the time when we needed you?”
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“Jewell, I was badly injured in a gas line explosion in an alleyway and if I had returned, you and your mother would have been in greater danger.”
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“Why daddy?”
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“Because a very bad man wanted to kill you and your mother. All since he blamed his wife’s death on me.”
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As I saw that I still had her attention, I said, “Jewell, you throwing a fit made it to where I could not tell your mother who I was. But now that I am in here, I think that it is best that she doesn’t know. It would only make her worry about Jack again. Anyways, I knew that my little girl would be more understanding why I had to leave.”
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"You were right, daddy, I've missed you."
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At the sound of that answer, I was relieved. For a minute, I thought that my Jewell might have not forgiven me. Fortunately, I have an awesome daughter. I had to tell her one last thing.
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“Jewell, I don’t know if you realize yet, but all of my memory was removed. If you give me a chance I would like to be your father, as Nath-” I was cut short and fell into a seizure. The memories imposed on my brain was too much for it and it was starting to reject them. It was like things started to black out and I saw a flare in my field of vision. Jewell looked at me and just about screamed for Angela. It was then that Cy took the memories out of my head before they set like cement.
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