Apparently there was a flaw in her plan--

        Madam Orantia predicting that Ivory would try something to get out of the field trip.

        "No funny business, Missy," the woman said. "This trip will be good for you."

        "But Madam Orantia--" Ivory began.

        The woman shook her head. "It is final, Ivory. And I believe you won't regret going."  With that, she turned on her heals and left the orphan behind.  Ivory stared at the elder woman's form as she went back to her office.  The girl bit her lip and eventually turned away, walking up to the girls' bedroom, body slumped.  Her body language made her thoughts obvious, but none of the girls asked if she was alright. 

        Ivory didn't care.  Instead, she picked up her book and continued reading where she left off.  She was now reading, "Little Britches: Father and I were Farmers," and her mind was replaced with glee when Ralph won the trick riding contest.  It had been so unexpected for Ralph, but it had been so amazing to read about his excitement and pride.  That win had even made him a bit famous.

        Ivory didn't wish to win some contest or lottery, she just wanted things to get better for once.  She wanted something good to happen.  Something unexpected and wonderful.

        Something to look forward to. 

        Something to amaze her and bring light to the depressing darkness in her life.

        But she knew things like that only happened in fairytales, so she didn't expect anything like that to happen to her.

        "Everyone line up at the door!" Madam Orantia called. "You better have your dresses or suits on already!"

        Ivory leapt from her bed in fright and rushed to her tiny closet, ripping a pretty dress from a hanger, and bolting into the bathroom.  Her hands shook as she rushed to get dressed and wash her face.  When she finally made it downstairs, she was the last one--just like always.

        "I'm here! I'm here!" she exclaimed between heavy breaths.  She ignored the giggles and whispers as they walked outside into the cold.

        And that's when Ivory realized that she had forgotten her coat.

        She rose an ice cold hand into the air, keeping it there until noticed.

        "Yes, Ivory?" Madam Orantia questioned, raising her eyebrow. 

        Ivory knew the woman already had an idea of what the girl wanted, but simply wanted her to say it herself.  A silent sort of punishment.

        "I forgot my coat," Ivory replied. "Can I go get it?"

        Madam Orantia's eyebrow rose higher toward the sky, and she gave a silent scolding look.

        Understanding, Ivory quickly cried, "I mean! May I go get it?"

        The eyebrow finally lowered down, and Madam Orantia nodded slightly. 

        Ivory flew inside, grabbed her coat from the hanger and rushed back outside, her scarf dragging behind.  Her boots slushed against the soft snow as she ran toward the group.  Visible breaths appeared in front of her when she finally made it.

        "Very well," Madam Orantia said, turning forward. "Follow me, children. And quickly. We are already late."

><><><><><><>   <><><><><><><

        Ivory sat down next to Madam Orantia in the last pew of their church.  They had already started their praise and worship, and the pastor's daughter was singing What a Beautiful Name.  Ivory could hear the other children fidgeting around her, but she ignored them and closed her eyes, relishing the peace.  

        The song finished too quickly, and the pastor climbed the steps to the stage.  He made some announcements, most of which Ivory tuned out, before he started his sermon.

        "You never know who or what God will put into your life. All you know is that you can trust Him with everything He does."

        Ivory sucked in a sharp breath, her heart beating unexpectedly.  Her tongue ran over her teeth as her thoughts drifted away from the rest of the paster's words.

        Sure she had heard of the things God did for people.  But she'd never deeply thought about it--thought about how it could effect her.  She had never had a strong faith in God, moving to different orphanages, some Christian, some not.  No one had ever approached her on the matter of being saved.

Why was this affecting her so much?

        Madam Orantia always prayed before their meals and reminded the children to pray before bed, but Ivory rarely thought about the words she spoke in her head.  She just acted like praying was just another part of her day.  Like school or chores.

        Trust?

        That wasn't what she described as her relationship with God.  

        Miracles? 

        Such a thing?

        Ivory didn't think it was possible.

        When the the service finished, Ivory simply followed Madam Orantia and the rest of the children out into the cold, paying no attention to her surroundings.  She was barely aware of the wind playing with her hair and allowed it to continue its antics.  The girl rubbed her shivering shoulders--which were not shivering from the cold.

        The thoughts that flew through her head were dizzying, but soon a hand on Ivory's shoulder pulled her from the thoughts.  She looked up into Madam Orantia's face and saw that she was leading her back into the orphanage.  Finally realizing that she had completely stopped at the bottom of the stairs, she continued up, Madam Orantia following right behind. 

        The motions of the day blurred together.  By the time she knew it, it was time for bed.  The unexpected closing of the day drew her from her constant thoughts.  

        She bit her lip, wondering if she was going insane...

        "Madam Orantia?" Ivory called, one hand on the stair's railing and her foot hovering over the last step. 

        "You know you are supposed to be in bed, child. What are you doing still awake?" the woman questioned, her arms folding over her chest. 

        "I had a question," Ivory replied, her hands finding each other and twisting together in a nervous habit. 

        "What is it, child?" the woman asked, her tone turning kinder and more understanding.

        She was  definitely different from all the other orphanages, Ivory thought. She's been nothing but kind to me. I was so terrified when I first arrived, but now...

        "I was wondering..." Ivory began. "Have you always been a...christian?" Her answer was careful--shy--unsure.  She braced herself for Madam Orantia, expecting the elder woman to snap at her.  But instead, a smile lit up the woman's face, and she slowly approached Ivory.  She put a gentle arm around the girl's shoulder and led her into the dinning room to two chairs beside each other.

        "To answer your question, no, I have not always been a christian," Madam Orantia answered, sitting down in one chair while Ivory sat in the other. "In fact, I hated God. I was an orphan just like you and blamed him for all the problems in my life. I yelled at him every night, questioning the kindness, generosity and overall love all His children seemed to speak of."

        "You...did?" Ivory couldn't help questioning, not sure what the woman's reply would be--or if her patience would run out.

        "Yes, child, and I am ashamed of my actions," Madam Orantia replied, looking down at the hands resting in her lap. "I sometimes wish I could take it all back. But I know I can't. And I am thankful every day that God is a forgiving Father. And so loving too."

        Ivory swallowed, her thoughts flying even faster through her head.

        "You said...you hated Him," Ivory started, biting her lip. "What changed?" 

        "God sent someone into my life that changed my perspective," Madam Orantia answered, a small tear sliding down her face. 

        "Does He do that for everyone?" Ivory questioned, a little nervous as more tears slipped down the older woman's cheeks.

        Madam Orantia shook her head slightly and said in a small voice, "No, child. Everyone's story is different. I'm sure yours will be unique, beautiful, and touching. Now go upstairs to bed. We have to wake up early tomorrow. For the fieldtrip."

        Madam Orantia ushered Ivory up the stairs and into the bedroom.  But Ivory didn't resist, her thoughts were too distracting. 

        When she climbed into bed a few minutes later, she was still thinking about everything the older woman had said.

        Would God give her a story to tell?

><><><><><><>   <><><><><><><

A/N I hope you guys enjoyed! Don't forget to comment --->

Thank you all for sticking into chapter three, and I hope you'll stay with me until the end! Thanks for reading!

Ciao,

𝓢𝓲𝓢𝓲