Three sisters

The battered old station wagon pulled up to the small rental house, the sound of its worn engine echoing down the quiet street. Inside sat a tired looking woman with worry lines etched across her forehead and three young girls, ages eight, six and four. Their faces held a mixture of confusion, sadness and fear as they looked at their new home.

Just a week ago, they had all been living comfortably in a nice four bedroom house in the suburbs. But that house, and the life that went with it, now belonged only to the girls' father. After years of putting up with his drinking, temper and verbal abuse, their mom Janet had finally worked up the courage to ask for a divorce. His response was to rage at her, threatening to make her life miserable if she tried to take "his" daughters away. The next day, she had arrived home from work to find the house empty—their clothes, toys and personal items dumped outside by the curb. The only thing left was a note saying that she and the girls were no longer welcome, and if they ever stepped on his property again he would have them arrested.

Janet had cried all night, terrified for her girls and heartbroken over losing everything she had worked so hard to build. But the next morning, she wiped her eyes dry and set her jaw in determination. She would not let her daughters pay the price for their father's cruelty and spite. She would find them a new home, get back on her feet, and make sure those precious girls never doubted they were loved.

The neighborhood they now pulled into was much smaller and older than the one they'd come from. The houses were weathered, the yards mostly dirt and weeds. A few worn tricycles and plastic toys lay abandoned at the curb. Janet tried not to let the girls see how nervous she was about this neighborhood, assuring them a smaller house would be cozier. Inside though, fear was knotting her stomach. Would this modest rental house even be safe enough for her daughters? And what kind of life could she now provide them on the modest salary she made working at the bridal shop downtown?

Eight year old Leah, the oldest sister, stepped from the car first into the late afternoon sunlight. She had inherited her mother's chestnut hair that glinted red in bright light. Her wide brown eyes took in the cracked concrete walkway leading to the front door of 517 Maple Street—a small, boxy rental house whose white siding had long ago faded to gray. The tiny lawn was more dirt than grass, with just a lone scraggly bush by the front window. Leah frowned slightly. In her storybooks, little girls' houses always had big graceful trees and flowers in the front yard.

"It's not very pretty," she said doubtfully, turning her freckled face to her mother. "Are you sure this is our new house?"

"It just needs some love and sprucing up," Janet said brightly, though her expression faltered a bit. She lifted curly haired Emma out of her car seat, setting the shy six year old on her feet. immediately wrapped both arms tightly around her mother's leg, peering out at the ugly little house with skepticism. Janet stroked her hair reassuringly.

"Hey, why the long faces?" said a deep, kind voice behind them. They all turned to see an elderly man making his way slowly up the sidewalk, leaning on a cane yet walking with an air of purpose. Tufts of white hair circled his bald spot and crinkled kindness radiated from his eyes. He smiled at the girls, waving a bent arthritic hand at the house.

"Welcome to Maple Street, ladies," he said. "I'm Earl, your next door neighbor. Glad to see some new faces moving into 517. It's been empty near six months now."

Janet managed a grateful smile. "Nice to meet you, Earl. I'm Janet, and these are my girls...Leah, Emma and Eve." At the sound of her name, four year old Eve peeked out shyly from behind her mother's legs, thumb firmly planted in her mouth. Earl beamed at the girls.

"Well would ya look at that! Three pretty young ladies to liven up my tired old street." He winked. "Maybe when you all get settled, we can have a nice block party so you can meet everyone."

Leah and Emma exchanged doubtful glances. The only other people in sight were two shirtless teenage boys fiddling with a bike on the sidewalk down the street. The houses here certainly didn't look like places that had parties. But Earl seemed friendly. Leah offered him a dimpled half smile.

Earl patted Janet's arm. "You all let me know if you need anything. The missus and I are just next door." He tilted his head, studying Janet with knowing eyes. "Starting fresh ain't easy for anyone, 'specially with three young-uns. But you got this mama. Anybody can see that."

Janet's eyes misted a bit at the unexpected kindness. She drew in a shaky breath, nodding thanks to the old man. Clasping Eve's hand tightly in hers, she turned with forced brightness to the girls.

"Okay my darlings, let's go see our new home!.

Janet inserted the slightly bent key into the faded blue door of 517 Maple Street, giving it a firm jiggle until the stubborn lock finally clicked. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open. The three girls crowded behind her, peering into the unfamiliar space.

The living room was small and empty save for some faded, peeling wallpaper. Light streamed in from a large window that overlooked their scrubby little lawn. The green carpet was old but looked clean, if worn. Off the living room was an open kitchen with peeling linoleum, furnished only with a humming refrigerator left by the last tenant. Beyond that, a narrow hallway led to two bedrooms and a bathroom.

It wasn't fancy, or even very nice. But Janet forced a wide smile. "Well, here we are girls! I know it needs some fixing up. But it will feel cheerful and homey soon enough."

Her hopeful tone fooled no one. Emma's lower lip trembled as she clung to her mother. Leah's face was doubtful as she scanned the room.

"It's ugly," she said flatly. "And it smells weird." She wrinkled her nose.

Janet sighed, but kept her tone gently upbeat. "Oh, it just needs some airing out, sweetie. Why don't you three explore while I start unpacking the car? Check out your new rooms and closets!"

She tried to sound excited. But her heart sank as she watched the doubtful girls wander slowly down the hall. She couldn't blame them for not being thrilled. This cramped little dump of a house was a world away from the comfortable suburban split-level the girls had always known.

Blinking back tears, Janet forced herself to focus on practical matters. She needed to make this work somehow. Her meager savings wouldn't support them for long, and this run-down neighborhood was clearly no place to be out of a job.

As she walked slowly back to the car, an unexpected sight greeted her. All along the curb, her daughters' toys, bikes and other belongings sat in neat piles. Her furniture formed a makeshift porch along the sidewalk. And her new neighbors—mostly women about her age—were carrying item after item into her new home, laughing and chatting away.

Earl stood at the head of it all, orchestrating the activity with a big grin. He saw her shocked expression, and winked.

"I told ya it takes a village, Janet! We're yours now—and we look after our own here on Maple." He squeezed her shoulder gently. "You and those beautiful daughters are home. And everything's gonna be alright."

Overwhelmed, Janet burst into tears.