A Family for Thanksgiving. Patricia Davids

seemed okay.

      Thank You, dear Lord.

      Nicki forced herself to smile at her class. “Wow! That was scary, wasn’t it? Is everyone all right?”

      Most of the children nodded. Layla, her brown eyes wide with fright, had her arms clasped around her crying friend. The Baker twins were still covering their ears with their hands. Together, they sobbed, “I want Mommy. I wanna go home.”

      Josie’s flashlight snapped on next. She said, “We need to stay here a little longer.”

      The two women exchanged knowing glances. They didn’t dare lead the children upstairs until they were sure it was safe. Nicki had no idea what awaited them.

      The church’s minister, Michael Garrison, quickly assumed charge. “Everyone stay put until we check things out.”

      He headed for the stairs followed by two other men. After several long, tense minutes, Michael returned and approached Nicki and Josie. His face registered such shock that Nicki bit her lower lip in trepidation. “How bad is it?”

      “Really bad. The town took a direct hit, but at least the church and school building are intact.”

      Nicki stood on trembling legs. “Do you think it’s safe to take the kids to their classroom? I think they’ll be more comfortable in familiar surroundings.”

      “That’s a good idea. We’ll need this space to set up an emergency shelter.”

      “Why not use the carriage house?” she asked, knowing the building behind the church had been converted into a family shelter for emergencies several years ago.

      “It’s gone. Completely destroyed.”

      Her mouth fell open in shock. “But it’s only a dozen yards from here.”

      “We were spared by the grace of God. There’s no doubt about that.”

      Pressing a hand to her forehead, she started to turn away, but he grasped her arm. “Nicki, I know you must be worried about your home and your mother, but I need you to stay with the children—I don’t know for how long.”

      Understanding all that he didn’t say, she nodded. “My mother is out of town, thank Heaven. I’ll stay as long as any of the kids need me.”

      Once upstairs, Nicki and Josie struggled to keep the scared children calm in the preschool room until their parents came for them. Nicki’s friend, Maya Logan, was among the first to arrive. She snatched up Layla and covered her face with kisses.

      Although Nicki was happy to see Maya was safe, the damage she described made Nicki sick to her stomach. It seemed that much of the downtown was in ruins.

      With each new arrival, Nicki learned more about the destruction. Nearly half of High Plains had sustained serious damage. Power lines were down, even the cell-phone towers were off-line. Many streets were blocked by debris, including the bridge over the river, the main highway into town. Rescue teams had to travel miles out of their way to reach the stricken area.

      The one bright note she heard was that the area of town where she lived had been spared.

      Nearly two hours after the tornado struck, Reverend Michael found time to check on Nicki and her charges. Noting his disheveled appearance as he entered the preschool room, she asked, “How’s it going?”

      “Outside help is beginning to arrive. We’ve got a medical triage tent set up on the lawn. There are a lot of injuries.”

      “Any fatalities?” she asked softly, not wanting the children to overhear.

      “Not so far, but some of the town and outlying areas haven’t been searched. Apparently, there was more than one twister in this storm.”

      “Have you seen Josie? Alyssa and her little friend, Lily Marstow, slipped away from us. Josie went to look for them.”

      “I saw them all with Silas Marstow a few minutes ago.”

      “Oh, good.” Nicki sagged with relief, happy to know her friend and the children were okay. Lily’s father, Silas, was the only parent that hadn’t been accounted for. She crossed his name off the list she’d made.

      Michael looked at the half-dozen children playing around the room. “I see you still have a few kids left.”

      “Some people opted to leave their little ones here knowing they’re in a safe place. They’ve gone out to help family and friends. I don’t mind watching the children. I’m happy to help any way I can.”

      “What you’re doing is deeply appreciated.”

      Nicki nodded toward four children playing with hand puppets in the corner. “The Jensen girls and the Baker twins don’t have homes left. Their parents are trying to make arrangements of some kind for tonight.”

      “I’ll speak to them. We still have a few empty cots in the basement. Shall I send Avery in to give you a hand?”

      Nicki shook her head, declining the help of his fourteen-year-old niece. “I’m fine, but thanks for the offer.”

      “Okay, I’ll put her to work elsewhere. I’d better get back. There is so much to do….” His weary voice trailed away as he walked out.

      It was another hour before the last of her students had been handed over to family members. When they were all gone, Nicki walked outside the church with trepidation.

      She had been right to be scared. She barely recognized the town she’d lived in all her life. Shredded insulation hung like tattered pink flags from the remains of broken, leafless trees. Whole houses were simply missing. Unrecognizable twisted pieces of metal, broken lumber and fallen masonry blocked much of Main Street. People were wandering around in a state of shock.

      A TV news crew from a nearby city had set up beside a mobile van and were interviewing survivors and filming the wreckage. Help in the form of firefighters, ambulances and heavy equipment had begun pouring in. The sounds of sirens filled the evening air.

      Walking toward the park, Nicki saw that the Old Town Hall had been reduced to a pile of rubble. It broke her heart to see the historic site in ruins, but it wasn’t until she saw the leveled gazebo in the center of the park that tears filled her eyes and slid down her cheeks.

      Her special place was gone.

      An elderly woman, looking lost and confused, stopped beside Nicki. Grasping a broken umbrella in one hand and a battered fedora in the other, the woman said, “I can’t find my husband. Frank never goes out without his hat.”

      Nicki put her own pain aside when she saw the woman was bleeding from a deep gash on her forearm. Ignoring the newsman that had run over to snap their picture, Nicki gently said, “I’ll help you find him, but let’s get you fixed up first.”

      “I don’t know where he could have gone.”

      Taking the woman’s elbow, Nicki led her back to the church grounds where the triage tent had been erected on the lawn. As Nicki turned her charge over to a paramedic at the scene, a tall gray-haired man with a bandage on his forehead rushed forward and engulfed the woman in a fierce hug.

      Nicki swallowed around the lump in her throat.

      Thank You, Lord, for this one happy ending. Please let there be many more.

      Stepping out of the tent, Nicki saw a group of women manning tables of food and drinks for the rescue workers and residents. When one waved her over, Nicki gladly joined them. She simply couldn’t go home. Not when there was so much to be done.

      Many long hours later, a bleary-eyed Reverend Garrison accepted a sandwich from her and said, “It’s after four o’clock in the morning, Nicki. You should go home. There’ll be plenty of work left to do tomorrow.”

      Wearily, she nodded. “You’re right.”

      “I’ll get one of the police to