43. Do you know Jesus?

Do I know Jesus? I don’t know! Do I? I grew up in Slovakia, during an oppressive communist regime. It was a society with no talk about religion or God. I never thought about Jesus very much and I had only heard snippets from my two grandmothers. The only God I ever knew was the piano that my father worshiped on a daily basis. Silvia and Tim knew that Peter and I are from Slovakia. Has Peter told them nothing about our background?

In the end, I assume the correct answer to Silvia’s question is “Yes,” and I am right because Silvia gives me a huge smile after I quietly confirm my love for Jesus.

“Ok, good, good. I love this so much.” She is pleased. “Now, I have one more question and this is a very personal one but I have to ask you, Jarka. It’s very important.”

I am so scared to get in trouble again and all this questioning feels like I am taking a test in school. A test I haven’t studied for. I am hoping that if God exists, He will lead me to the correct answers.

“Jarka….” Silvia pauses dramatically, “Are you saved?”

Both Tim and Silvia are now looking at me intently.

Oh no, what do I say now? What does it mean to be saved? Think, Jarka, think, quick! Thanks to my intuition I deduce that being saved is probably better than not being saved so once again I answer, “Y-yes, I am,” and then watch for their reaction.

Tim and Silvia look ecstatic. They are so pleased with me that they both give me huge hugs and pats on the back. Whew. Now I need to figure out what being saved means. I don’t have to wait long because Silvia is practically dancing around me, still chirping in her sweet tone.

“I am so very happy,” she clasps her hands on her chest, “ that you accepted Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior. His death and resurrection will deliver you from the consequences of your sins and you are granted eternal life, Jarka! All your sins will be forgiven. That is terrific! We will see each other in Heaven one day! Isn’t that wonderfuuul?? Everyone else will go to hell. But we will rejoice with Him in Heaven.”

I breathe another sigh of relief as she is gushing around in her happiness. Thank you, God, I whisper to myself, silently. In theory, I could tell her right about now why I had to leave New Jersey, since all my sins would be forgiven. But I still feel it’s safer to just keep it to myself.

Silvia keeps chattering around and my brain tunes out for a bit. 

“Don’t you think, Tim? We need to take Jarka shopping.” Her voice interrupts my thoughts.  “She cannot go to church in her jeans,” her nose scrunches as she is eyeing my attire. 

*************

“Let’s go, darling,” Silvia takes my hand and drags me out the door to her shiny Mercedes waiting in the driveway. We are going shopping. As we walk out the front door, I see the man who knocked on the door and talked to me last night. Him and several other guys are working in the yard, sweat pouring from their faces. He straightens his back out and yells at Silvia. 

“Are you fixin’ to leave, ma’am?” He coughs and then adds, “I reckon we be done with them trees plantin toniiight.” He goes right back to work but I still don’t understand him.

“They are hard workers,” Silvia explains. “But I am not sure they love Jesus.”

Silvia takes me to Macy’s. I have seen Macy's at a big mall in New Jersey so I am at least somewhat familiar with the store.

“See if you like any of these dresses, Jarka.” Silvia points at a rack full of dresses that look like something old ladies would wear. I go through them and finally find a dress that looks “younger,” maybe a little shorter than the rest, something that could probably work for me. 

“How about this one?” I show Silvia.

She walks up right to me, takes the hanger out of my hands and puts it back on the rack. She is shaking her head in disapproval. She fishes out a hideous brown dress and holds it in front of me, “Something like this! It needs to be longer to cover your knees and legs. You need to be a  modest lady. You don’t need to stray men along. That’s why I never bring girl exchange students into our house. Only Slovakian boys. I don’t need Tim to get any ideas!”

My mouth is suddenly dry. I nod and say, “You pick a dress, please.”

Silvia picks about five old lady dresses for me to try on and three pairs of shoes. We end up buying three of those dresses and two pairs of shoes, the brown grandma dress among them. 

It’s ok. It’s totally fine, I ponder. If she is buying me dresses and spends nearly, gasp, $200 on me, that means she doesn’t want to send me away. She wants me to go to church with the family, that must be a good sign. Even though she doesn’t like to have young girls at her house.  

When we get home, Silvia is so pleased with our shopping trip that she urges me  to model all of the dresses once again for her and Tim. He is nodding in agreement as I am asked to turn around back and forth to see all angles. He approves and that’s all that matters. 

“Isn’t she beautiful, Tim? Such a sweet sweet girl. She let me pick all the dresses for her. She is such a doll! Peter is going to love it!”

******************

After my modeling session, I finally sit down on the couch. I am trying to rest but also staying away from the ugly piece of furniture that is glaring at me from the corner. I had seen it there before. I actually saw it the second I entered this house. But I have been ignoring the looks that it keeps giving me. I pretend it’s invisible. It’s just not there. I am looking away from it and the stack of all the music books that are piled up on the bench.

“Jarka?”

Silvia’s sweet voice.

“I heard that you are a very accomplished pianist.”

“Uh-uh,” I can’t meet her gaze right now.

“Darling, why don’t you go play something for me? I love listening to piano music! I went through all of my piano books and got them ready for you. Go on, baby, go and play!”