By Linda Porter Carlyle
Hannah Maria Estevez looked out the car window. She liked riding in the car. She liked looking out the window, at the always-changing scenery.
“It would be nice to live out here in the country,” Dad said as he carefully steered the car on the curvy road.
“And have sheep!” Hannah interrupted.
“And chickens,” Mama added.
“And a cat,” Hannah said.
Dad laughed. “I was thinking more about a garden.”
“Look at the llamas!” Hannah exclaimed as they drove past a big pasture. (Hannah said the word the Spanish way where ll sounds like y.) Twenty or so woolly brown and white llamas grazed contentedly on the short grass. “Maybe we could have a llama too!” she said.
“That must be the place,” Mama said, pointing.
Dad pulled off the road onto a new, rough gravel drive. He parked beside the other cars on a flat, weedy place.
“Is Paulo awake?” Mama asked, looking over her shoulder.
Hannah looked at her baby brother. He was snoring softly, buckled into his car seat beside her on the back seat. His chin and chest were wet with drool. “No,” she answered.
“Let’s leave the car doors open and let him sleep,” Mama suggested. “It isn’t too hot and I will hear him when he wakes up.”
Papa, and Hannah, and Mama climbed out of the car. They walked a little ways up the gravel drive to where the ground had been scraped smooth. There were no weeds growing there. A rusty yellow Caterpillar with a huge scraper on the front was parked off at the side.
“Hi, Hannah!” Mac called. She jogged away from the little group of people who were standing around talking. “Isn’t this neat? There isn’t anything here at all where we’re standing, and pretty soon there will be a house!” Mac flung her arms wide. “And it will look just like it always belonged here!”
“Well,” Pastor Chuck said, looking around, “why don’t we get started? Let’s make a big circle.”
Everyone came together and joined hands. Hannah held Mac’s hand on one side and Mama’s on the other. She looked around at all the other faces. There were older faces and young faces, and Hannah knew them all. They were all part of her church family.
“You all know why we’re here,” Pastor Chuck began. “We want to ask the Lord to bless the well that will be dug this week for the Knights’ new home. We know that the Lord can provide lots of water here just as He did for His children as they traveled through the desert so many years ago.”
Hannah had never thought before today about having to dig a well for water. If you wanted water, you just turned on the faucet and out it came. But Dad had explained to her that water has to come from somewhere—a river, or a lake, or a reservoir, or a well. And if you lived in the country, you usually had to have your very own well.
Everyone’s head bowed. Pastor Chuck prayed first. He asked the Lord to give the well driller wisdom to know the very best spot to drill for water.
Many other people prayed also. They all asked the Lord to provide a good well and to bless the Knights and their new home. Hannah said a silent prayer inside her head. She didn’t want to pray out loud with so many people listening. But she felt good that she could pray for the Knights, too, and she knew that the Lord would hear her.
When everyone who wanted to had had a chance to pray, Pastor Chuck began to sing. “‘Praise God from Whom all blessings flow.’”
Hannah smiled. It was the perfect song!
“OK,” Pastor Chuck said, “the well driller will be here early Monday morning. I’m sure we will all be anxious to find out what happens. Would one of you volunteer to call each family that came today and let them know how God answered our prayers?”
“Let’s volunteer!” Mac whispered in Hannah’s ear. “We could do that!” She didn’t even wait for Hannah to agree, but raised her hand and Hannah’s as well, since she was still holding it. “We will! We will!” she exclaimed eagerly.
“Thanks, girls!” Pastor Chuck said, smiling. He gave Mac the pen from his shirt pocket. “Does anyone have a piece of paper we can write everyone’s name on?” he asked.
Late Monday afternoon, Pastor Chuck called Hannah’s house. Mama handed her the phone. Hannah could hear the excitement in his voice. “It’s a good well!” Pastor Chuck said. “It’s a very, very good well!”
Hannah had learned a few more things about wells since the prayer meeting at the Knights’ property. Now she knew that the important thing was how much water a well could produce in one minute. Papa had told her that if a well around Jacksonville produced over 10 gallons of water in a minute, it was considered a very good well. “How good is the new well? How many gallons of water in a minute?” Hannah asked.
“100 gallons a minute!” Pastor Chuck exclaimed.
Hannah’s eyes shone. She could hardly wait to call the people on her half of the list!
