Prince Tennyson by Jenni James

You’ll like it, I promise.”
    â€œOkay.” I glanced back at the Bible. “Where?”
    â€œVerses 5 and 6.” Her smile grew again. She really did look a lot like that ballerina.
    I looked down and read verse 5.
    If any of you lack wisdom , let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given unto him.
    Upbraideth? Does the Bible believe that God doesn’t like braided hair?
    Just as I was about to ask my mom about it, I looked up—she was still smiling. This wasn’t a joke.
    Confused, I looked down and read the next verse.
    But let him ask in faith, nothing wavering. For he that wavereth is like a wave of the sea driven with the wind and tossed.
    It still made no sense. None at all.
    â€œMom, what does this mean?”
    She chuckled a girlish-sounding chuckle and took the book back from me. “These verses talk about how if you need to know anything at all, you can just pray and ask God and He’ll tell you.”
    â€œReally?” I couldn’t believe it. “That’s what those scriptures said?”
    â€œYeah, really.” Mom smiled. “But there is a condition. You have to be very, very serious when you ask God a question. You can’t just ask him something silly and expect an answer—you have to mean it.” She trailed her finger down to verse 6 and showed me. “See? You have to ask him in unwavering faith. You have to be strong and believe that God will answer you, and He will.”
    â€œOh.” Well, that blows that, then. There was no way He would ever answer any of my questions because I didn’t believe in Him, right? But I was curious. “What are you going to ask God, Mom? What’s your question?”
    My mom looked at me and laughed like I had just asked the funniest thing in the whole world. She held the book tight to her chest again and fell back on the pillows.
    â€œMom?” I didn’t understand what was so funny. I really wanted to know. “What? What is it?”
    Mom gasped and chuckled some more, and even wiped her eyes. Finally she sat up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to burst out like that. But your face was so funny. You should’ve seen the way you looked at me. And then, I was just so happy to have found this answer that I just lost it. I don’t know.” Mom shrugged while she grinned like a little girl. “I think I’m just extra silly because I’m so happy.”
    Her eyes did have sparks in them. Maybe she really was happy.
    I smiled. “So what’s the question you want to ask God?”
    â€œWell, duh!” Mom giggled again. “I’m going to ask Him if He’s real or not. What else would I ask?”
    â€œOh, cool.”
    So much for Mom’s smile—it wasn’t going to last long. When my mom looked back down at the Bible, my mouth fell. I sighed quietly to myself. Pretty soon she’d know what I knew.

Chapter Seventeen
    I WAS WRONG. MOM’S smile didn’t go away—in fact, it grew. I think I was as surprised as anyone when my mom walked into the kitchen on Tuesday and announced that she knew God was real. I know I was surprised because I dropped the gallon of milk I had just pulled out of the fridge. Thank goodness it still had its lid on. Had it been Wednesday, the lid would’ve been off, and milk would’ve spilled everywhere.
    Even Grandma Haney stood frozen next to the toaster, one hand in the air and the other next to the little plate of butter on the counter. Actually, the only people moving in the room were Cameron and Mom. She sprang past Grandma and ran to pick up the milk jug.
    â€œWhoa, Chelsea. Are you okay? Did the milk carton hurt you when it fell?”
    Grandma stood frozen for a moment and then I watched her hands come alive and pull the toast out of the toaster. My eyes connected with my mom’s. “What?”
    Mom laughed. “I’m