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Back A Penny for Your Thoughts Save as PDF
Chapters (62)
  1. Cover
  2. A PENNY
  3. Dedication
  4. Acknowledgments
  5. One
  6. Two
  7. Three
  8. Four
  9. Five
  10. Six
  11. Seven
  12. Eight
  13. Nine
  14. Ten
  15. Eleven
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Sixteen
  21. Seventeen
  22. Eighteen
  23. Nineteen
  24. Twenty
  25. Twenty-One
  26. Twenty-Two
  27. Twenty-Three
  28. Twenty-Four
  29. Twenty-Five
  30. Twenty-Six
  31. Twenty-Seven
  32. Twenty-Eight
  33. Twenty-Nine
  34. Thirty
  35. Thirty-One
  36. Thirty-Two
  37. Thirty-Three
  38. Thirty-Four
  39. Thirty-Five
  40. Thirty-Six
  41. Thirty-Seven
  42. Thirty-Eight
  43. Thirty-Nine
  44. Forty
  45. Forty-One
  46. Forty-Two
  47. Forty-Three
  48. Forty-Four
  49. Forty-Five
  50. Forty-Six
  51. Forty-Seven
  52. Forty-Eight
  53. Forty-Nine
  54. Fifty
  55. Fifty-One
  56. Fifty-Two
  57. Fifty-Three
  58. Fifty-Four
  59. A Sample Chapter of Don’t Take Any Wooden Nickels
  60. About the Author
  61. Other Books by Mindy Starns Clark
  62. About the Publisher

The graveside ceremony was simple and solemn, the mood quiet and orderly despite the tremendous number of people present. Now that I felt sure I knew who was responsible for my earlier incident, I put it out of my mind and tried to concentrate on the proceedings at hand. I listened as Derek delivered a touching tribute to his father and then watched as a woman stepped up to the podium. She was about 20, slim with long blond hair, and she began singing in a beautiful clear voice to the accompaniment of a young man on a guitar. When I realized what song she was singing, I felt as if someone had punched me in the stomach.

“When peace, like a river, attendeth my way…” she sang, the first line of the first verse of the hymn “It Is Well with My Soul.” It had always been my favorite hymn, but three years ago I had made the terrible mistake of choosing it to be sung at Bryan’s funeral. Now, every time I heard it I was instantly transported back to that moment when I stood next to his grave, listening to the music, realizing that the only man I had ever loved was really and truly dead.

“When sorrows like sea billows roll…”

I hated that song now, hated it in the way a stubborn student hates his teacher, in the way a soldier hates his drill sergeant. I knew there were lessons in that song for me, lessons I needed very much to learn. But I wasn’t even close to being ready to learn them. I knew the song had been written by a man whose life went from blessed to disastrous all in one year: First, he lost all of his money and nearly everything he owned in the great Chicago fire, then he lost his only son to sickness, then he lost his four remaining daughters when they were drowned in a shipwreck. As the man stood looking out at the ocean where his daughters had drowned, he had written this song, the refrain proclaiming that, in spite of everything, he would remain faithful to God and His will.

“Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say, It is well, it is well with my soul…”

But it is not well with my soul! I had wanted to scream at Bryan’s funeral. He’s dead and I’m still alive, and all I want is one more chance to see him, to talk to him, to be with him.