Chapter 5

Pastor Adam

As I live and breathe, I never expected to see Harmony King set foot in Charleston again. She was always a kind child, but so, so broken. It wasn’t just the lack of a family that got her started off all wrong. The kids made sure she never forgot what she was missing.

I often encouraged my daughter, Abigail, to reach out to her, but she insisted that it would be social suicide to have the girl no one liked come to our house for a bit of food and kindness—no matter how much the poor thing needed both. Abigail herself never made matters worse for Harmony, but I often wonder how much it would have meant to that poor girl to have a stable friendship to lean on for support.

Of course, I still remember the first time she was shifted about the system. I was certain that she was lost to Eternal Grace forever, but she had an angel on her side working at the Child Protective Services. That angel kept her nearby enough so that she could attend church and stay in Abigail’s class at school.

No, she didn’t make it every Sunday after that, even though I suspected she might like to. I offered to pick her up before first service and drop her home after second, but she never agreed to accept my help. I suspect she didn’t want to depend on anyone if she could help it, and I can see she’s still very much the same.

That’s why I entrusted Muffin to her.

Oh, I saw her hesitation, the fear that she was now responsible for another life when she’d barely figured out how to manage her own, but God doesn’t give us more than we can handle—I know that for a fact. And from the very moment I set eyes on Harmony praying like her life depended on it, there in the middle of my mostly empty sanctuary, God leaned in real close to my heart and whispered, “This girl needs a miracle. Let’s give one to her.”

And around here, “miracle” is just a fancy word for “Chihuahua.” Yes, Harmony needed our church dogs in her life. Mostly because she needed someone she could count on, and I suspect she’s never quite had that before. She needs to learn to forgive those involved in what happened to her—hard as it may be—and she needs to learn to look forward to better things, let others in to enjoy them with her.

But for now?

A dog will do just fine.

More than fine—miraculously.

A little love can go a long way. Now it was up to Muffin to answer God’s call and finally give Harmony the chance to live a life to His glory as well as to her own satisfaction.

God speed, little Muffin.

And God bless.