Christmas Through Your Eyes

Zeilfanaat

Category: Friendship/Drama

Ratings: G/K

Warning: none

Disclaimer: Neither Sue Thomas: F., nor DOC belongs to me. Both shows are created by the Johnson brothers.

Spoilers: Tis The Season (DOC), Silent Night (Sue Thomas: F. B. Eye).

Summary: When a deaf girl and a country boy who lost his parents meet during a camp, will they be able to help each other?

Archive: i2eye Fan Fiction

Challenge: i2eye Fan Fiction Christmas Challenge 2008

A/N: As you guessed, this is a crossover of DOC and Sue Thomas: F. B. Eye. It should be written in a way you can still follow without knowing (either) one of the shows. Thanks to Tracy (tis*me!) for beta-reading!

This was originally divided into chapters, but seeing as I won't be here during Christmas, I figured I might as well post it entirely today. Hope you enjoy!

Edit: June 17, 2010 - edited out the 'heard' and replaced it with 'known', as suggested by trecebo. Thanks, trecebo!

Finished: 3rd of January, 2009.

New York, December 2001

It was two days before Christmas. Clint sat down at the table. His mind went back over his conversation with Raul this morning, when he had asked if Clint remembered the first Christmas after his father had died.

"Been thinkin' about your Mom again?" Clint had asked. Raul nodded.

"Sometimes I wake up at night and, it's like, I can't remember what she looks like. That ever happen to you?"

"Yeah, sometimes. But there was one thing that always helped though."

"What's that?"

"My Dad's favourite Christmas song was 'Silent Night'. So a lot of times when I get to missin' him, I just go off somewhere, and sing that song to myself. Felt like he was right there with me."

"My mom's favourite was 'Away in a Manger'. You think the same thing will work for me?"

Clint had nodded. "Yeah, I think it might."

"Maybe I'll try it."

"I think you should." Clint had replied with a small smile.

It wasn't the first time he shared his way of dealing with those feelings of loneliness, his way of remembering his parents. Years ago, at summer camp, he had met a young girl who had been in as much need of comfort as Raul had been just now… as much as he himself had been years ago.

Suddenly he made a decision. He knew he had her address somewhere. They hadn't kept in touch much, except for some Christmas cards, and occasionally a change of address.

Dear Sue,

How're you doing? Been a while since we wrote. Lots has changed. As you know, I moved to New York a few months ago. During my first week here, I got hired, fired, and rehired again. (It's a long story). One of my new patients was a single mother of a young boy, Raul. Raul's mother died, and made me promise to take care of him.

While he lives with a friend of mine, a police officer, and his wife – they adopted him – I love him like he was my son. They live in the same building as me, and occasionally Raul drops by.

This morning, he came by too, needed a talk. It's going to be his first Christmas without his mother. I know what it feels like. I told him about my 'remedy', which reminded me of you…

Summer Camp, August 1982

The seventeen year old Clint Cassidy strolled through the woods surrounding the camp. It was a warm summer, the evening more agreeable than the day. The younger kids had been sent off to bed already. He would have to find his own sleeping bag in a little while too, but he had wanted to have a little time to himself.

Lance Westwood, camp leader, had said he didn't mind, as long as he kept close to camp. He knew the boy had grown up being surrounded by woods, and he trusted him to not wander off too far.

Clint was older than the rest of the kids at camp here – he had had his summer camp with his own age group a couple of weeks ago. Lance had asked if he'd wanted to stay for the younger kids' camp and help him out. Doc Johanson, good friend of Lance and adoptive parent of young Cassidy, had said it was ok, so here was Clint. Lance's own son, Peter, who was a year older than Clint, was also staying, and the two boys had become good friends.

They helped Lance round up kids, keep them organised, and were team captains whenever they played games. Most of the time, when the kids were occupied otherwise, you could find Peter and Clint together. But sometimes, like tonight, Clint needed a little time alone. Lance had a pretty good idea why. In a few days, it would be seven years ago when the boy had lost his father. His mother had died a year or so before that. It wasn't something you just passed off. Still, with the help of the Johansons, the boy had found a way to deal with it. He was still a boy of course, energy enough to keep the young ones going, up for his share of mischief, and he had a temper alright. But he could be very quiet and serious as well.

The boy had a strong faith, despite or perhaps partly because of everything he had already gone through. He also had a compassionate heart, ready to help or comfort anyone who needed it. Except as the seven year mark grew nearer, Clint would turn more into himself, seeking more solitude than before. Lance let him. He knew his kids, and Clint was one of them. When he needed to talk, he'd talk. Meanwhile, he'd pray for the boy.

So that's why Clint was now walking in the woods, comforted by the silence, familiar with all the sounds of the forest. He liked to walk in the woods in the evening, when all was quiet. It's where he could pray without being disturbed, where he felt like he could feel God's presence clearer.

Suddenly he heard a sound that didn't belong to the ordinary sounds of a forest at night. The kids were all supposed to be in bed. Not even anywhere near this area of the camp. He approached the source of the noise, and was surprised to find a young girl, her feet drawn up to her chest, sobbing quietly. She hadn't heard him approach, and didn't react when he asked if she was ok. Slowly he walked closer, still talking to her, but he got no reaction from her as she continued to sob.

The moment however when he touched her arm, her head shot up and she pushed herself further against a tree. Immediately he recognised her. She was the girl that always sat close to the front whenever Lance or one of the other staff members were talking or explaining something. She was always picked last by the other kids for being in a team whenever they played games, or she would not join in at all. It had surprised him before, and when he had asked Peter, he'd told him she was deaf. Clint had wanted to go to her at some point, but his attention had been drawn elsewhere when two kids had started to fight. After that he'd forgotten.

"Hey, I'm Clint. What's your name?" Despite knowing she was deaf, he felt he had to ask anyway.

The girl looked at him bewildered, quickly drying her tears with her sleeves. "Go away," she said fiercely. She didn't want to show anyone she'd been crying. She was enough of a laughing stock anyway; she wouldn't give this boy the chance to get his money's worth in.

She knew he was saying something, but it was too dark to make out what. She couldn't even see his face properly. "Go away, I can't read your lips anyway, it's too dark. Save your teasing and go back to your sleeping bag or something!" she tried again to get the boy to leave. For a moment neither seemed to say anything; then she saw him move. But he didn't go away. When a flashlight suddenly lit them and their surroundings, she knew he had no intentions of going away. Boys. Suddenly she realised this wasn't one of the normal boys who had been teasing her. This was one of the older boys who helped the staff with the games and such.

"Hi, I'm Clint," Clint tried again. This time his face was lit sufficiently for Sue to read what he was saying.

"I'm Sue," she replied, still cautious. He may be older, but he was still a boy.

"Pleased to meet you," Clint said. For a moment they just looked at each other. Sue really just wanted him to leave. The darkness had allowed her to cry, the tears hidden in the night. But with Clint came the flashlight, and with the flashlight came light and the inability to hide the evidence of her crying.

Clint for his part had studied the girl in front of him. Once he had realised she was deaf but could read lips, the pieces fell in place, her behaviour and the behaviour of others towards her explained. He could see she wanted him to leave, embarrassed that he'd seen her cry. Yet he couldn't just leave her sitting here alone in the dark. He knew she wouldn't talk to him just like that. Perhaps she wouldn't talk to him at all. That was fine with him. He just wanted her to know she could if she wanted.

He sat down a little more comfortably and looked up through the leaves to see a few stars. It reminded him of the reason why he was here in the first place.

Sue had watched the older boy warily. He seemed content to just know her name. But he showed no indication of leaving either. Perhaps she should just leave herself, and find another place to sit, or just go back to bed. She had half made up her mind to stand up, and looked at the boy to tell him she'd be going. He looked at her for a moment, then started talking.

"I love the woods. They're so peaceful, especially at night. Don't you think so?" He didn't wait for an answer, instinctively knowing she had no intention to reply.

"I grew up near to the woods. They practically started at our backyard, just behind my Mom's rose bushes. I'm not sure if the bushes were there to keep the forest out or me in, but either way, it wasn't very effective…" He grinned. "My Dad would always take me deeper into the forest, hunting, fishing, finding wood for the fireplace. Not that we needed a fire per se, it was just more fun than the central heating. We'd built a 'secret' forest house, pretty much right behind the rose bushes. I think my Mom knew, I'm not sure. Wish I knew. Doesn't matter of course, but it'd be nice to know."

"Why don't you just ask her?" Sue asked simply, having rethought her decision to move away, too drawn by someone actually talking to her, instead of throwing insults at her.

Clint shrugged. "She died a little over eight years ago."

"Oh. I'm sorry." Sue felt bad. Her own mother was demanding, but she couldn't imagine her not being there anymore.

"That's ok. You didn't know." He was quiet for a while. Sue hoped he would continue, but he seemed lost in thought.

"In four days it will be seven years ago since my father died."

"You lost both your parents?" Sue asked, shocked. Clint looked at her, but his eyes didn't meet hers.

He nodded. "It's always a little harder this time of the year."

Sue could imagine. She loved both her parents, and wouldn't want to miss either of them, much less both!

"Is that why you're walking here tonight?" she asked.

"Well, partly, yes. I always like to go out to the woods at night to pray."

Pray. She sometimes wondered what was so special about it. She said her standard prayers, but it was just something you did 'cause you had to. She was sure God was there, but she didn't really think about Him much. And if she did, she sometimes wondered why, if God was so powerful, he'd let her be deaf.

"Can't you pray in bed?" Sue asked curiously. After all, why would you go through the trouble of going outside only to say a prayer.

Clint woke up from his own thoughts and studied the girl sitting opposite him in the glow of his flashlight. "Sure, I can. But I like to be outside, where I can look at the stars, or just be alone for a while. Helps me concentrate."

"Can't you concentrate in bed?" Sue asked again. Clint was an odd boy, she decided. But then, all boys were odd.

The seventeen year old boy chuckled. "I'm easily distracted. I want to make sure I give God my full and undivided attention."

Sue frowned. She guessed she could live with that answer.

"So, how old are you, Sue?" Clint asked.

"Seven," she said proudly, although a little defensive. "You?"

"I just turned seventeen," Clint replied.

"That's older than my brother, and he's older than me," Sue said, suitably impressed.

"Do you have many brothers?" Clint asked.

"Three."

"Do you like them?"

"They're ok. But they're boys," Sue said, a slightly disgusted look on her face, which caused Clint to laugh.

"I'm a boy too you know."

"I know, but you're older. You don't tease me."

"Do your brothers tease you a lot?"

Sue nodded. "Yeah, but they're not as bad as the others."

"What others?"

"Kids from school. They tease me 'cause I can't hear what they're saying. They think I'm dumb or something, but I'm not!"

"I don't think you're dumb either. I think you're a pretty smart girl," Clint said. "Do the kids here at camp tease you as well?"

Sue stilled. That was why she'd been sitting outside. She hadn't wanted to let the other kids notice she was crying. A touch on her arm had her look up at Clint again.

"Is that the reason why you're sitting here in the dark, alone?" Clint asked softly.

At first, Sue wanted to deny it, but Clint seemed nice enough, and there was something about this setting that just set her at ease; made her comfortable enough to talk about it.

"Yes," she admitted at last, feeling the familiar hurt bubble to the surface. "Why can't I just be hearing?"

For a few moments, neither said anything. When Clint spoke, it seemed at first that he was talking about something else entirely.

"When my father had just died, and I went to live with Doc Johanson and Dottie, all I wanted was to be with my parents. I just wanted to be with my Mom and Dad. One evening I told Doc Johanson, and he said 'Son, it is not up to you when you die – that's up to the Lord. But it is up to you how you live. God's got a plan for everyone, and that includes you. And you can be sure of it that He won't let you out of His sight. There's gonna be hard times in life, but He'll be right there with you. There's gonna be good times too, and He'll still be with you. It's important to remember that, even when it seems like you're all alone and there's no one who cares or no one to help, or cry with you, He is right there.'

I'm going to tell you the same thing, Sue. God's got a plan for you, like He has a plan for me."

"Are you saying God made me deaf on purpose?" Sue asked angrily. Clint shook his head.

"That's not what I'm saying. I'm saying that God can use you, either for something for which you don't require hearing, or perhaps He can use your deafness for a goal that hearing people would not be able to achieve."

"How can He use me when I'm deaf?" Sue asked, still angry. Clint shrugged. "Doesn't seem like too much of a hindrance at the moment. We're talking, aren't we?"

"Ok, yes," Sue admitted grudgingly.

"You can walk, talk, run, read, feel, and everything else."

"But there are also lots of things I can't do because of my deafness," Sue countered. Usually she was the one trying to convince others she could do anything just as well or better than any hearing person. Now here she was trying to convince Clint of the opposite. She was too young to realise the irony. Right now, it was just frustrating.

"Like what?" Clint asked calmly.

"Well, I need enough light to read someone's lips. That is, if they remember I need to be able to see their lips. I can't hear what someone's shouting when we're playing a game, and I can't read someone's lips from a longer distance, and because of that, everyone thinks I can't play at all! People already think I'm dumb, just 'cause I can't hear them." Sue felt tears burning behind her eyes again, and angrily she swiped them away.

"I think there's plenty of things you can do, despite your deafness, or even because of your deafness."

"Yeah right," Sue grumbled.

"Yup," Clint said with a smile. "For one, I have no clue how to read lips, and you do it fluently."

"Well, I've had to work hard for that," Sue said, still grumpy.

"Of course, but we all have to work hard for something or another. Just 'cause someone's very good at sprinting, doesn't mean he first didn't have to learn to walk."

Sue shrugged. She understood what he was saying, but didn't feel like admitting it.

"And you can also sign, no doubt."

"Yes, of course, but it's not like anyone else here knows sign language as well, so what's the use of that?"

"It means you can communicate with two worlds." She shrugged again, but was interested to see where he was going with this. "Perhaps you'll be one of those people who bridge the gap between the two worlds," Clint said simply. Sue startled. She'd never thought of it like that.

"So… you're saying that God's going to use me to be a 'bridge' between the hearing and the deaf world?"

Clint shrugged. "It's possible. There's so many things God can use us for."

Sue decided that perhaps she should think more carefully about her deafness from this new perspective. But then she remembered why she'd come to sit here in the first place.

"How can I ever 'bridge' the gap when no one from the hearing world will talk to me?"

Clint sighed. "Unfortunately, some people think that people who are different are scary, 'cause it means they need to change a little of their own ways."

"But to just talk to me they don't need to do anything different. Well, except make sure they look at me when they talk."

"There you go – some people are afraid that they won't be able to adapt, so they shy away from even trying."

"But that's not fair."

Clint shook his head. "It's not. But then, things in this world are rarely fair. One day it'll be fair again…" Oh, how he longed for that day, when Jesus would return, take all His children with Him to Heaven, where he'd see his mother and father again, and where there would be no more pain and no more sickness.

"You mean when Jesus comes back?" Sue asked. She remembered her Sunday school teacher talking about it. She didn't really understand everything, but she knew that much.

"Yes. Until then though, we'll just have to deal with it. But we don't have to deal with it alone."

Clint looked at Sue, and contemplated something. Then he asked, "Want to pray together? You can keep your eyes open," he said as he winked at her, making Sue smile. She nodded hesitantly. "Ok."

Noticing her hesitation, Clint went ahead and prayed for them both. "Dear God, thank You for this day. Thank You that Sue and I met, and that we had such a good talk. I'm glad we could talk. Thank You that we may know that You have a plan for our lives, and that we may trust You to guide us and help us and comfort us when we hurt. Lord, I ask if You can give Sue strength to carry on, and show her that true happiness doesn't come from other people but from You." Clint's voice wavered a little, but this went unnoticed by Sue. She did notice the small pause, and she could see the emotions clearly on his face – the sadness and gratitude, both at once. "Thank You Lord that You're my Father, who is always with me. Amen."

The young girl was a little in awe. She'd known some grown up people to talk to Jesus like He was a close friend, but Clint was the first 'not-grown' person who also talked like He knew Jesus personally. She was touched that he'd included her in his prayer, but also that he'd shown her part of his personal pain and joy.

Perhaps she should start praying more like He wasn't far away… and maybe she should pay more attention to when her father read the Bible. Clint seemed to be comforted enormously because of it.

"You ok?" Clint asked, after a few moments of silence. Sue nodded and yawned, which didn't go unnoticed by Clint.

"Well, since the batteries of my flashlight are about to die," Clint nodded at his flashlight, which indeed had started to flicker occasionally, "how about we both head off to bed?"

"Ok," Sue said. She was ready for bed now. She felt she could face another day, knowing both God and Clint would be nearby. Somehow she felt she'd learnt a lot more about who God was during the past half hour than she had during Sunday school. "Thank you," she said, trying to hide another yawn.

"You're welcome," Clint said, as he pulled her up from the ground. Together they walked towards the building with the dormitories. At the door, Sue turned a little. "See you tomorrow."

She hesitated a little, not sure if he'd mind a hug. Clint made the decision for her though, and he gave her a gentle hug, before pulling back. "See you tomorrow. Good night."

Watching Sue enter through the door, satisfied she wouldn't be wandering through the woods anymore that night, Clint contemplated the last hour for a bit, then decided he should at least let Lance know Sue had been outside. After he'd found Lance and explained how Sue had been sad about being teased and being the outsider, Lance nodded thoughtfully. "You say you've had a good talk?"

Clint nodded. "Yes, Sir. I think we got somewhere."

"Very well. Well done, Clint. We'll keep an eye out tomorrow. Now, off to bed with you."

"Yes, Sir," Clint said, glad he'd told Lance, yet absolutely ready for bed.

Summer Camp, August 1982

Over the next days, Clint became friends with Sue, which caused the mocking to die down. Clint asked Sue to teach him some signs, which she gladly did. Sue had more questions, and Clint answered them patiently, often taking his Bible to point out passages, or to read them together, so Sue could try and figure them out herself. Obviously, Clint didn't know everything either, and sometimes didn't quite understand something himself. But then he'd ask Lance or one of the other leaders, and they'd gladly help out.

Sue started gaining more confidence, both in her faith, and with the other kids.

At some point, during a game where Sue and Clint were in the same team, Clint and Sue used a few simple signs, which totally confused the rest of the children.

Suddenly, Sue found herself being seen as cool, and was asked to teach them all some signs. Clint was glad that she was being accepted, and even made some other friends. Silently, he thanked God for the guidance He provided.

Days passed by quickly, and while being occupied with Sue had both brightened his and her moods, the day of his father's death still found Clint quiet. He was absentminded during games, didn't always hear it when someone asked him something, and would often wander off on his own a little. Lance let him, and had told Peter to help him keep an eye on the rest of the kids. Sue worried about her new found friend. She remembered what day it was, and knew he must be sad. When she thought that no one else was looking, Sue followed Clint to where he'd wandered off.

She found him sitting on a log, seemingly staring at nothing. When she drew nearer, she saw he was talking – no, singing. She couldn't quite see what he was singing, but she decided to wait till he was done with the song. He had heard her approach though, and looked up, stopping halfway.

"Hey Sue, what are you doing here?" he asked.

Sue sat down beside him on the log. "Came to find you," she said.

For a moment, Clint thought about sending her back to the rest of the kids, but realised she probably wouldn't go. Besides, he didn't really mind her presence.

"Ok."

They sat for a while longer, till Sue spoke up. "What were you singing?"

Clint shrugged. "A song."

Sue sighed. "I know that. Which song?"

"'Silent Night'," Clint said quietly.

"I like that song," Sue said, surprising Clint who had expected something about it not being the season for Christmas songs.

"You do?"

"It's one of my favourites." Sue contemplated the song for a moment. "My Mom likes to sing it with me. She's teaching me how to play it on the piano."

Clint smiled. He didn't have to think hard about why her mother would teach her that particular song.

"Why were you singing it in the middle of the summer?" Sue asked curiously.

The grin disappeared again from Clint's face. "It was my Dad's favourite song. Every time I miss him, I go somewhere and sing it, and I feel like he's with me."

"Oh. Ok." Sue thought for a moment. "That sounds like a pretty good way."

"Yeah, it is," Clint agreed.

"What was your father like?" Sue asked, still curious. For a few moments she thought he wouldn't answer. She didn't realise that a simple question like that brought up so many memories for Clint that it was hard to immediately form a reply.

"He was a really cool Dad," he said finally. "I told you that we walked in the woods a lot, right?" Sue nodded. "Well, we got up to a lot of mischief together. I think we may have driven my Mom crazy." Clint continued to tell her short stories of what his father and he had done together, or how his mother and he had fooled his father one time. Sue got a belly ache from laughing. Her giggles brought a smile to Clint's face, driving away the sadness he'd felt so deeply. At some point he told her about the fairs he'd gone to with his dad, and that his father had played guitar and had sung in a band.

"Wow, that must have been awesome. Do you play guitar too?" Sue asked.

"A little, I only know a few chords. I want to learn it better though."

"Got to practice a lot, I think," Sue said, then remembered what Clint had said about working hard. "I think you'll do fine."

"You think?" Clint asked, unsure, while at the same time amused at her confidence in him.

"Yeah, I think so," Sue confirmed.

"Thank you, Sue." He meant more than just her faith in his guitar playing abilities. Sue smiled.

"You're welcome."

They sat for a while longer, in silence. Then Sue sat up. "Want to go and play a game?"

Clint grinned. "Sure."

Lance noticed the two join in with the game the other kids were playing, and smiled inwardly to himself.

New York, December 2001

It had been a rough week, yet so precious. Clint thought back over the last couple of days. The whole staff at Westbury had been pushed to their limits due to a large inflow of sick Santas, and an irate doctor Crane. Doctor Crane had been the subject of many a speculation rounds, but the speculations couldn't have been further off. Waiting for test results of a patient was hard, made even harder when you yourself are the patient.

Meanwhile, he'd had to perform a C-section on his colleague's wife. Nellie had gone into premature labour, and all the other qualified doctors were either away or out of reach. Crane had performed the surgery, Clint had assisted, and everything had worked out fine. Gracie Hebert was a healthy baby girl, born in the early hours of Christmas day.

Not too long afterwards, Crane had received the results, which thankfully were good.

Nate and Beverly had experienced the Christmas chaos in trying to make this a special Christmas for Raul. The Christmas gifts had been a success – especially the picture of Raul and his mother.

Now, as they sat here together in the clinic, Clint thought of something else that he'd been reminded of this week. Excusing himself for a moment, he got his guitar out of his office. After a few Christmas carols, he switched to his father's favourite. Memories of him sitting with his father as they sang the song together filled his mind.

He looked at Raul, and switched over to 'Away in a Manger'. Everyone started singing along, and Clint watched Raul's serious face as he too sang the words, no doubt his mind on his mother.

Satisfied that the boy he loved like his own son was ok, he allowed his thoughts to run free.

Another moment he remembered, this time as he sat 'round a campfire with a seven year old deaf girl who had shown him what it was like to live a Silent Life…

Summer Camp, August 1982

When the last evening approached, a great campfire was started, songs were sung, memories were shared, and plans were made. When most of the kids were quietly occupying themselves or had gone to bed (not to sleep of course!), Sue went over to one of the staff members who'd been playing guitar, and asked him something. A few moments later, she stood before Clint, guitar in her hand.

"Sue? What…?"

"You said you could play a little. Now you can show me."

"But how will you know I'm not just hitting the wrong chords?" Clint asked, although he accepted the guitar.

"I won't," Sue declared happily. "There's some good things about being deaf too, remember," she said, tongue in cheek. Clint glared at her, but was too occupied with trying out the guitar. After a few experimental chords, he decided to try a simple song. He hit a few wrong chords, but mostly it went ok. He tried a few more songs.

Sue had her hand against the guitar, and felt the vibrations coming from the instrument. She noticed Clint hesitating for a few seconds, then saw him starting to sing along with the music. After two words, she knew what he was singing.

At the second verse, she decided to sing along. This was the one song she knew she could sing reasonably well. At the end of 'Silent Night', Clint and Sue exchanged a look of which only they knew its meaning.

Lance just looked content. He knew it had been a good idea to have young Clint around. He was glad he had asked Doc Johanson to send the kid to help him out. He could see it had not only helped the young girl Thomas, but also Clint himself. He'd been needed, he had been able to help someone in need, and had been helped by the same girl in return.

Washington, D.C., December 2002

A couple of hours ago, her parents, Lucy, Charlie and she had sung 'Silent Night', her mother accompanying her on the piano, and it had reminded her of the seventeen year old boy she had met all those years ago. Once she had found a quiet moment, Sue had re-read the letter Clint had sent her last year.

…I'm sure I never told you, but while at that time, it may have seemed to you like I was just helping you, I realise all too well that you helped me too, in more than one way. You were there with me, to help me through my rough time when remembering my father. All those questions you asked helped me focus on the good times we had, instead of just looking at the end.

At that time, I wasn't sure why I couldn't seem to cope with it as well as I had the previous years. Now I think it was the combination of having to start thinking about making some critical decisions about my future, and realising that I was fast approaching the age where I'd have spent more than half of my life without my real parents.

I knew with certainty that God had a plan for my life – I just couldn't see it. It wasn't by chance that we were both at that camp. Talking to you, helping you, helped me work through some tough issues myself. I could see your courage, and found courage myself. Perhaps without knowing it, you gave me strength to carry on.

Thank you for that. But most of all I'm grateful to our God, who brought us together on that Summer Camp, so many years ago. Drop by when you're ever in the neighbourhood.

Your Summer Camp buddy,

Clint Cassidy

Fondly she remembered that camp. While it hadn't started out all that great, it had ended wonderfully, and had actually been a stepping stone for her. She had never told Clint, although she was pretty sure he'd seen it, but her faith had strengthened there. Clint had shown her that there weren't only mean people in the world, and had encouraged her to keep trying. He had shown her how it was possible to not have any parents, yet still not be alone. He had shown her how Jesus was more than just a person who had lived 2000 years ago, and that alone was so much more important than anything else.

No, it hadn't been an easy road – still wasn't, – but looking back over the years, especially the last couple of months, Sue had to acknowledge the wisdom of those words that God had a plan for everyone. Somehow she knew she was currently exactly where God wanted her to be. And she had a feeling that Clint Cassidy too was in the right place.

They had never met again after that summer camp, but they hadn't forgotten about each other. They had seen the world through different eyes, and never did a Christmas pass without them being reminded of the lessons learnt when a boy without parents and the girl without hearing had met.

The End