Promises to Keep, Nan Rossiter [feel good fiction books .txt] 📗

to say to give me encouragement, simple things that would focus my mind. . . . And these are the things that helped me push through, so I thought I’d just share some of them with you.”

He looked up at his mom, saw that she had a tissue clutched in her hand, and then took a deep breath and swallowed before pressing on. “As I made my way up here, I could almost hear my mom whisper one of her most famous phrases in my ear: Be bold and mighty forces will come to your aid!” He looked at her and she laughed. “This quote is one of her favorites—she has said it to me so often that it rattles through my head on a daily basis, often on repeat, like the lyrics of a song that gets stuck in your head.” He looked around. “For the longest time—in fact, right up until this morning—I thought it was from the Bible, but I googled it and discovered it’s actually paraphrased from a longer quote: ‘Go at it boldly, and you’ll find unexpected forces closing round you and coming to your aid.’ It’s attributed to the Canadian clergyman and author Basil King and it is included in his book Conquest of Fear—a book that was written a hundred years ago, but is still as profound today . . . and all this time, I thought it was from the Bible.” He paused. “I’m sure I thought this because I know the Bible—another of my mom’s favorite books—is filled with assurances to not fear. So, in my head, I heard my mom whisper it because it has given me courage throughout my life when I’ve faced other daunting tasks—like public speaking,” he added and then waited for the laughter that ensued to die down.

“You see, my mom has always loved to read—a passion she has passed on to me. Our house is full of books—we have so many books, in fact, we could probably open a library! From poetry to prose; from history to science; and from mystery to romance, it’s from the pages of all those books that my mom has gleaned an endless wealth of wisdom . . . and trivial knowledge,” he added with a grin.

“One of her favorite authors is the esteemed Maya Angelou, and another timeless quote she often shared was Maya’s: ‘I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.’ It’s such a simple quote, but we would all do well to take it with us when we leave this place—these halls, classrooms, playing fields, and cross-country trails—where we’ve grown up and learned about life . . . as we leave the teachers and coaches who have taught and inspired us . . . and as we leave the friends with whom we’ve done all this learning. It doesn’t take a high school diploma or a college degree to keep this in your heart, because when it comes right down to it . . . how did you, by your actions and your words, make other people feel?” He smiled. “It’s probably one of the most important things we can learn in life.”

He paused, looking around at his classmates. “We have come so far, but I’d like to leave you with one final quote.” With a smile, he continued. “When the poet Mary Oliver died, my mom mourned her passing as she would a dear friend. That winter night—I remember it well because it was dark at five o’clock when I got home, and my mom was so sad as she told me about her passing and her poems, and then she went to the shelf where her most cherished books are kept, and pulled out a dog-eared volume of House of Light. She flipped through the pages until she came to her favorite poem: ‘The Summer Day’ . . . but my mom didn’t need the book to share the poem because she knew it by heart. . . . And when she reached the last line, she looked right at me and made it her own. Tell me, dear one, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”

Mason pressed his lips together. “These are just some of the things my mom has taught me, but I believe they are more important than any diploma or honor or degree, and I think we would all do well to keep them in our hearts. I know I will.” He turned, and with glistening eyes, looked solemnly at his mom. “With my one wild and precious life, Mom, I plan to be bold . . . and to be kind . . . and to make you proud.”

Tears streamed down Laurie Callahan’s cheeks as her son made his way toward her. The crowd around them rose, weeping and clapping thunderously, and when Mason reached his mom, Laurie pulled herself up and wrapped him in a hug. She held her son as if she would never let him go. She would never feel more proud—the young man she’d raised was so poised and well-spoken, respectful and honest, handsome and strong. He had given a poignant message straight from his heart . . . and she knew he would do well, no matter what path he chose. “Thank you, dear one,” she whispered, and he smiled and kissed the top of her head. Then he gently helped her sit down, hugged Mr. and Mrs. Harrison, too, and went back to his seat—the audience still standing and clapping.

17

MAEVE HEARD HER PHONE HUM, FELT HER BACK POCKET, AND FROWNED. She picked up large clumps of crumpled packing paper and pushed them into an empty box, but she still couldn’t find her phone so she stood in the middle of the room, waiting for it to hum again. Finally, it did, and she looked up and saw it on top of the mantle—right where she’d left it. She looked at the screen and saw a text from Gage:

How’s the unpacking going?

It’s going.

Do you have anything planned for dinner?

She raised her eyebrows—she