Squinting at the sunlight, I stared out the window, wishing the throbbing ache in my temples would go away. I sighed and turned over, burying my face in a pillow as hot tears leaked from the corners of my eyes. Nausea from the pregnancy had kept me in bed the past few days, and I didn’t know how much longer I could take it. Am I going to feel this terrible for the next six months? What if I can’t handle it? Maybe I shouldn’t have said yes after all. I let my thoughts run wild, all the way to worst-case scenarios. What if the baby doesn’t make it and I have to go through all of this for nothing?
The sound of approaching footsteps and a soft knock on the door made me turn my head. Sarah stood in the doorway, wearing slippers and a robe. “Come in,” I said.
She padded in and sat on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling?” she asked, tilting her head as she placed a hand on my forehead. “Are you hot? Is there anything I can do for you?”
She sounded compassionate, but I wasn’t buying it. I had been hurt before by others who had claimed to care about me, and this last time had been the final straw. I wasn’t going to let anyone hurt me anymore. Tilting my chin up, I replied, “I’m fine. I don’t need anything. Just leave me alone.” I turned away and shut my eyes, hoping she would get the message. She was the last person I wanted sympathy from. I can handle this. I have to.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Now please leave.”
Reluctantly, or so it seemed, she picked herself up and stole away.
That was the first of several similar conversations, each slightly icier than the one before it. I knew I shouldn’t be acting so childish, but I kept on nursing my hurt until it grew into a raging anger. The bitterness inside burned as hot as my headaches each day.
Then early one morning as I lay in bed trying to get some more sleep before the sun came up, I heard the sound of whispers outside my door. Aidan and Sarah were talking. I wondered why they would have chosen such an inopportune time and location for whatever it was they were talking about and was about to turn over and cover my ears with a pillow when I caught the sound of my name. My ears perked up.
“I just don’t know what to do about Hazel,” Sarah was saying.
“Mmm-hmm” was Aidan’s soft reply.
“She’s so different from how she used to be before she was pregnant. She was grateful and sweet before, but that girl has disappeared. Now she’s sullen and disrespectful.
“I agreed that this was the best route to take, and look where it’s gotten me. Hazel will hardly look at me anymore. I think she hates me. I’m tired of being treated this way, Aidan. I’m not going to put up with her bad behavior anymore.”
I could imagine Aidan nodding his head by now. All he said in response was “It’s in your hands, Sarah. Do whatever you think is best.”
Please let this be a bad dream. My thoughts were muddled as I slowly sank back into a troubled sleep.
A couple of hours later, I woke up feeling better than I had in a little while. My headache was gone. I felt so relieved that I smiled for the first time in days.
Just then, Sarah entered the room without knocking and stood beside the bed. Gone was the gentle smile she had greeted me with for the past several mornings. In its place was a distasteful frown. She looked like she had swallowed a persimmon. When she spoke, her voice had all the softness of a desert cactus.
“What are you smiling about?”
“Good morning to you too.”
“Well, sunshine, since you’re feeling so bright today, why don’t you go down and fix yourself some breakfast?”
“Sure, I can.” I shook my head slightly as I eased out of bed, wincing as I slid my feet along the hardwood floor. Sarah said nothing in response. She turned on her heel and exited the room, leaving me alone.
I grimaced as I tried to restore some order to my tangled hair with a few half-hearted strokes of my brush. Once it looked sufficiently presentable, I changed out of my wrinkled bedclothes into the most comfortable-looking outfit I could find scrunched in my closet: an oversized t-shirt and loose sweatpants. I turned back toward the full-length mirror and sighed at my reflection. I still look like a wreck. Well, it can’t be helped. I’m doing the best I can.
I tossed my head and gave myself a pep talk as I slipped on my favorite pair of sneakers and started making my way downstairs. You can do this, Hazel. You’ve gone through harder things before and come out stronger. It won’t be any different this time.
I should take a shower. But first, breakfast. I held my head high as I stepped down the stairs. I’m not going to let Sarah get the better of me.
When I got downstairs, Sarah was seated in her favorite spot on the living room couch, a book in her hand and a steaming cup of tea on the table beside her. Without looking up, she said, “You can make breakfast for me too while you’re at it. Pancakes would be nice. I’ll take a couple of eggs too. You know how I like them.” She took a sip from her teacup and flipped a page in her book.
Frustration immediately rose up inside me. How dare she treat me like I’m her maid? I deserve to be treated better than this, especially given what I’m doing for her already. I gritted my teeth and reminded myself of my earlier resolve. I can’t let her see she’s bothering me. “Sure,” I replied, forcing my voice to sound cheerful.
She nodded, keeping her eyes on her book. Whatever has come over her? She didn’t treat me like this before.
I huffed my way into the kitchen and vented my frustration by banging the pans and utensils more than was necessary. Sarah must have noticed, because she called out, “Can’t you be more quiet, Hazel? I’m trying to read.”
What is the matter with her? I stomped over to where she was sitting and retorted, “Well, if you were in the kitchen helping me rather than sitting on the couch trying to read, then it wouldn’t be bothering you. You expect me to do all the work while you act like a princess.” To emphasize my point, I shook the wooden spoon I was holding and pointed it at her.
Unfazed by my outburst, Sarah gazed at me steadily and replied evenly, “I’m not going to allow you to talk to me that way anymore, Hazel. You should respect me after all I’ve done for you. I expect you to apologize before going back to your work.”
My mouth dropped open. What? She expects me to apologize to her? She’s got it all wrong! She’s the one who should be apologizing! “Are you serious?” I spluttered.
“Yes, I am,” she replied in the same even tone. “You can decide what you want to do, but I refuse to let you disrespect me any more.” She took a sip from her teacup.
I was so angry I felt like snatching the teacup from her hand and throwing it on the floor. Instead, I stood there for a few minutes that felt like hours, breathing hard as I tried to think what I should do. Then a thought came to mind. I know what I’m going to do. She won’t be able to conquer me now. I smiled triumphantly. “I’ve made my decision,” I said, crossing my arms and giving Sarah a defiant glare.
She gazed back at me calmly. “Well?”
“I’m leaving this house right now. You aren’t going to boss me around one minute longer.” With that, I spun on my heel and started trotting off before she had a chance to respond. Sarah didn’t make a sound: I guess she was in shock.
Just then, the smell of burning pancakes drifted from the kitchen. I stopped in my tracks. I forgot all about breakfast! I started to turn around, but changed my mind and kept heading in the same direction. Let Sarah take care of it. I’ll get something to eat later. I pounded up the stairs into my bedroom, where I snatched a few personal items and stuffed them into the backpack Aidan and Sarah had bought for me when I first moved in with them. Ironic.
By the time I came back down the stairs, Sarah had left her spot on the couch. She’s probably in the kitchen. Great. I’ll have to go right by her. But when I strode into the kitchen to fetch the keys to the convertible Aidan had purchased for me, the room was empty. I felt relieved. I snatched the keys off the counter and hurried out the door.
After getting into the car, I realized that I didn’t have any place to go. Well, I guess it doesn’t really matter, as long as it’s far from here. With no particular destination in mind, I headed as far away from the familiar part of town we lived in as I could.
―
My thoughts brought me back to the present and to the burning question that now seared its way through my mind, overcoming all else: What am I supposed to do next?
There were no easy answers.
I brushed my hair out of my face and let out a frustrated sigh. First, I needed to figure out where I was going—or rather, where I was, because as I looked around, I quickly realized that I had very little clue where I was at. In my frustration at the confrontation that had taken place and in my eagerness to get away as far and as fast as I could, I hadn’t given much thought to where I was going, and now here I was in the middle of the desert. All that surrounded me as far as I could see was a windswept landscape of sand dunes dotted with an occasional cactus or small scrubby tree.
Great. I pulled off to the side of the road and reached for my phone, thinking I could check the built-in GPS, but when I picked it up, the screen was black. It must have died or gotten overheated. I ruffled through the dash, hunting for the charger I kept there. Then I realized that I had left it at home sitting on the counter next to my car keys. Even better. Now what am I going to do? I raked my hands through my hair, trying desperately to think of some solution to the situation I found myself in. Nothing came.
I have to get out of here. I’ll die in this heat. No one will find me. No one would look for me anyway. I’m just a homeless girl carrying a baby that isn’t mine to keep. Unbidden tears of pent-up anger and hurt started pressing behind my eyes, but I blinked them back. I can’t cry. I’m not going to give in.
I pulled back on the road again and started driving faster than I had ever driven before. I couldn’t quite make out the speedometer through a sheen of unwept tears, but I must have been going 80 miles an hour or more. Then the car started sputtering, and smoke poured out of the engine before it stopped running. Now I was truly stranded in the middle of nothing.
I pounded the steering wheel with my fists in frustration. How could this be happening? Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, they had. Feeling drained, I let my head drop until it rested on the steering wheel. Maybe I should just give up. There’s nothing worth fighting for.
Then I felt a faint fluttering in my belly, and I remembered. It’s not just me anymore. I have to think about the baby.
For the baby’s sake and my own, I needed to get out of the heat. Glancing to my right, I saw a Joshua tree. It wasn’t much, but at least it would provide a little shade. I got out of the car and stumbled towards it, clumsily coming to rest against its trunk. At least now I had a reprieve from the blazing sun.
I leaned back against the tree, letting its weight bear mine. Trying to silence my swirling thoughts, I closed my eyes. I wished I could shut out the world around me that easily. If only I could just drift off and wake up to find everything right again. But of course that would never happen.
I was starting to drift off when I heard a voice calling my name. Any sense of calm I might have had before vanished as my pulse quickened. My eyes fluttered open, and I squinted into the vastness before me to make out a form swimming up through the haze. I blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the blinding sunlight. As my vision grew clearer, I saw the figure of a man standing before me. It must be Aidan. How did he find me?
As I looked closer, I realized that the man was not Aidan, but a stranger. He wore a plain long-sleeved shirt, loose-fitting pants, and high top shoes—all white. His face was kind, and he smiled at me as he spoke.
“Hazel1, you do not need to fear. I have not come to harm you.”
As soon as he spoke, my heart slowed down, and a strange calm came over me. I had no idea what was happening. Who is this man? Somehow I sensed that he was no ordinary man. But before I could ask, the mysterious figure spoke again.
“Hazel, Sarah’s helper, where have you come from and where are you going?”
What a question. My mouth went dry, and I had to lick my lips a few times before I could answer. “I’m running away from Sarah,” I replied.
“Return to her and obey her,” he commanded.
What? Does he have any idea what he’s telling me to do? Now I wasn’t so sure if I should listen to this man after all.
As if sensing my suspicious thoughts, he continued, “The children who come from you will be multiplied so that they cannot be numbered. I see that you are pregnant. You will have a son, whom you are to name Ishmael, because the Lord has heard your cry for help in your suffering. Your son will be strong and free, not dominated by anyone. He will have many enemies, but he shall overcome them.”
After he had finished speaking, he vanished out of sight.
Was I hallucinating? The thought crossed my mind, but somehow I knew that wasn’t what had happened. It was real. A messenger of God2 had been sent to me. Tears came to my eyes once more, and this time I let them flow freely as I tilted my head back to look at the sky, praying brokenly.
“You are the God who sees me,” I said. Looking around at my surroundings, I shook my head in amazement. “I have seen the one who sees me!” I could hardly believe it was true. Did God really care for me? I had wondered about that so many times since the start of this whole ordeal, thinking that maybe He had forgotten about me. But now I knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that He still cared about me. He had sent a messenger to remind me that He remembered me. He saw me, and He met me where I was.
I didn’t know for sure what would happen from there, but one thing I did know: wherever I went, God was watching over me.
I smiled, and for the first time in a long time, I let myself laugh. Within me was something that hadn’t been there before: hope.
There was no way that I was going to give up, now that I knew God, the one who sees, was on my side.
- The name “Hazel” has Hebrew origins and means “God has seen.” This phrase only occurs a few times in the Bible; one of the main instances is in Hagar’s story. ↩︎
- I believe that the angel of the Lord mentioned in the original Bible passage is actually a form of the preincarnate Christ; however, for this modernized story, I changed the messenger to an angel. ↩︎
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