Glory Girl by Betsy Byars Page A

governor’s talking about giving him a pardon.”
    “Really?”
    “Yes, and something else good has come out of the accident. The town’s taking up a collection for new costumes, new instruments, the works. They never did catch the boys who were responsible, but the town’s behind you.”
    Anna rested against her pillow while the nurse made a note on her chart. “Has Uncle Newt been coming to the hospital?”
    “One time. I didn’t see him. Miss Hawkins was at the desk, and she said he came up, asked how you were, and after she told him you were all right, he left.”
    “He’s shy.”
    The nurse stood at the foot of the bed, watching Anna. “You and your family were real lucky.”
    “I know that.”
    “I saved the newspapers for you. And when you see the pictures of the bus—that bus went all the way down Sugar Creek and crashed into the bridge. It was just a pile of twisted blue metal. When you see those pictures, you’ll know how lucky you were.”
    “I know that now,” Anna answered.
    Outside Anna’s room, in the hall, Mrs. Glory was beginning her morning rounds. She had a routine just like the nurses.
    First she would check on Anna. Mrs. Glory had not worried about Anna, not even when the doctors told her it was touch and go. She knew Anna would pull through.
    Then Mrs. Glory would go in to see her husband. He was in the men’s ward at the end of the hall. When that was out of the way, she would stop in Angel’s room.
    Mrs. Glory was so glad that Angel’s face had not been hurt. Angel was as beautiful as ever. It was a miracle. Her arms and legs were covered with cuts and scrapes. There was a bruise on her hip bigger than a grapefruit. But her face—Mrs. Glory considered this the hand of the Lord—was still perfect.
    Mrs. Glory would linger in Angel’s room, putting off as long as possible the moment when she had to go up to the fourth floor, Pediatrics. She dreaded that.
    If the nurses up there told her one more time, “You’ve got to do something about the twins. They’re driving us crazy.” If they said that one more time, she would …
    Mrs. Glory squared her plump shoulders under her bathrobe. She reminded herself that she would do nothing. She had promised, in that dark moment when the bus tipped over the bank and started down, that if her family was spared, she would never lose her temper again.
    She went into Anna’s room, smiling. Three days in the hospital had flattened her beehive hairdo so that she no longer looked like herself.
    “Anna, you’re awake!”
    “Yes’m.”
    “You look fine.”
    “You too.”
    Mrs. Glory crossed to Anna’s bed. In the new cheerful voice she had picked up from the nurses, she said, “Yes, we all look just fine.”

Return Performance
    T HE GLORY FAMILY WAS on the stage of the George Washington High School auditorium. Mr. Glory was standing at the edge of the stage, leaning forward, talking to the audience.
    “Friends, you all know how lucky the Glory family is to be here tonight. You read about our accident in the newspapers. We’re just so grateful to be alive, to be up here onstage again, singing for you.”
    Mrs. Glory said, “Amen,” from the piano bench.
    “It’s been like a miracle. And so tonight our first song is going to be ‘We’re Thankful,’ because that’s exactly what every one of us is. Maudine.”
    Mrs. Glory brought her small hands down on the bass notes and went up the keyboard, playing a series of chords that used every single note on the piano.
    Mr. Glory stepped back. He walked with a limp—he always would—but tonight, for the first time, he felt no pain. His injury was forgotten in his happiness at being on the stage again.
    Oh, we’re thankful and we’re grateful
    And we’re singing His praise.
    We’re telling everybody
    These are happy, happy days.
    He gave us our life
    Not once, but twice
    And we’re thankful and we’re grateful
    To the Lord.
    Oh, we’re …
    In the back of the auditorium Anna sat