Last week I told you about a spring break I took in Mexico. We rode the bus partway to a village, then walked a few miles. We got a ride a couple of times, but we did walk a long way. By the time we got to our destination, we were all hot and thirsty.

When we arrived, we went to the house of one of the church families. They gave us all a glass of ice -cold water.

Did I mention the water? Yeah, um, don’t drink the water in Mexico. That’s what we’ve always heard, right?

Somehow, I forgot that in the heat and exhaustion, and guzzled that glass of cold water. That night, I woke up several times to use the bathroom.

As I mentioned last week, the village had outdoor bathrooms, or as we call them here, outhouses. Those were in the middle of the village, and a short walk from the house where we were staying. Not wanting to go out there alone, I kept waking up my housemate: “Daisy, will you go with me to the bathroom?”

The water didn’t affect my friends. I was the only one from the U.S. on that trip. By the next morning. I was pretty sick, but it wore off as the day went on.

I wrote to my parents about the experience. I’m posting more of my letter here, with my notes of explanation in parentheses:

“I got very little sleep. In the morning, I slept a few hours. The other four (the friends who were with me on the trip) prayed for me and I felt better. We went walking, and rested and slept under a tree for a couple of hours. I ate nothing for lunch, but drank two Cokes.

“I felt perky by time to start the evening service. Again, we saw God’s hand at work on everything, and the time with the church people went really well.

“In the morning, we took the bus directly from San Francisco to Saltillo. If we’d known that there was a direct route between the two places, we wouldn’t have had to walk so far.

“One of the young girls from the church rode with us, as she was coming to Saltillo to sell cheese. She gave each of us about a 1/2 pound of cheese, and for them that’s a lot of money to spend. We paid her bus ticket, but we didn’t feel like it was enough. She wouldn’t accept any money.” (The generosity of that young woman was something I found to be true for most of the people I met during the time I lived in Mexico.)

Upon returning to Saltillo, I saw a doctor and took some medicine for my stomach, but the problems lingered. I think that was when I started to get homesick. It was April, and I was committed to a job through the end of June.

In late June, I returned home to the U.S. with the intention of returning to Mexico, even though I’d been homesick. But once I got home, I didn’t want to go back. I had student loans to pay, and I enjoyed being with my family again. I settled into a job that became a good career for me. I met my husband a few months later, married, and raised my children.

I’ve never gone back to Mexico, although I’ve thought about it many times over the years. I miss the people I met there, and some of my best memories come from that period. I’ll always remember that Spring Break trip as one of the most meaningful experiences in my life.

My new contemporary Christian romance is scheduled to be released in April. The Reluctant Billionaire is my first full-length novel to be published by Anaiah Press.

The characters, Liam and Jessica, lived in my head for a long time. Their story was always at the back of my mind, beckoning me to tell it.

In The Reluctant Billionaire, Jessica returns home with a broken heart. Her longtime friend Liam is there to help her through it, showing her what it means to be cared for. They find that with God, and true love, broken hearts can be healed.

I’m so excited about the fast-approaching release date. I hope you will stay tuned for more details.

I’m not sure what spring break will look like for schools this year, but I imagine many families who normally go on vacation during that week will be sticking closer to home. It might be a good idea to stock up on books for young readers. Following this month’s theme of “Spring Break,” today I’m featuring Violet, a middle-grade contemporary book by Renée Lichetenhan.

Inspiration behind the book:

My “I Am Girl” collection of middle-grade books is inspired by a desire to help parents cultivate faith and virtue in their kids. Honesty is at the root of my most recent release, VIOLET. I chose to spotlight honesty, because — let’s face it, lots of teenagers lie to their parents. That’s what VIOLET chooses to do, and as you’d expect,  her choice ends up getting her into a heap of trouble. But, what happens when she comes clean is a surprise even to Violet.

About the book:

Thirteen-year-old Violet Windsor is obsessed with the rush and thrill of skateboarding through a dangerous, gang-ridden part of New York City. Certain that her high-society parents wouldn’t approve of the rough-and-tumble sport or the sketchy neighborhood, she and her best friend, Sloane, hide her secret adventures in a thick veil of lies.

When Violet’s autistic, non-verbal brother, Oliver, begins drawing pictures that reveal a mysterious knowledge of her secrets, Violet is rattled to the core. Intrigued by peculiar clues in Oliver’s drawings, she follows them down a reckless path toward redemption and truth.

Excerpt:

Sloane rode her bike beside Violet down the hectic, congested sidewalks. When they reached the riverfront greenway, Violet threaded a jump rope around Sloane’s bike seat and held on tight as Sloane pedaled fast, pulling Violet along at exhilarating speeds.

Violet couldn’t help but let out a whoop and raise an arm triumphantly in the air. Free at last!

When they were almost to Harlem, they passed another skateboarder, who shot by in a blur. Sloane slowed down and looked backwards. “He called your name.”

“Who? The skateboarder?” Violet slowed herself with one foot, stopped and turned around.

The guy on the skateboard turned around and raced toward them. As he got closer, she recognized Maria’s son, Emilio. A look of fear in his eyes sent an icy chill down Violet’s spine. “Emilio? What’s wrong?”

He dragged one foot on the pavement until he came to a stop. Oddly, he carried a second skateboard under one of his arms. “Actually, I was heading over to your place to get you.”

“To get me?” Violet asked. Weird.

“Yeah.” He kept looking at the pavement, uncomfortable with eye contact, as usual. 

“Why?” Violet asked.

“Rex’s in trouble.” Emilio said. He shivered, wearing only short sleeves.

“Okaaaay? What does that have to do with me? He’s always in trouble.” Violet said, annoyed.

“Who’s Rex?” Sloane asked.

 “Trust me, you don’t want to know,” Violet answered. Turning back to Emilio, she asked. “How do you know him, anyway?” 

The question seemed to make him tense, impatient maybe. “School.” 

“Really?” Violet frowned. Considering she’d known Emilio all of her life, she didn’t know that much about him. How could she when he kept to himself all the time?

“Yep. Since kindergarten.” Emilio said. He shifted his weight and drummed his fingers impatiently against the board he carried.

Violet shook her head in pity. “Dude. That’s too bad for you. Glad he doesn’t go to my school.”

Emilio lifted his chin, and a defensive fire burned in his eyes. “Who would wanna go to your stuck-up school anyway?”

Violet placed her foot on her board. “Okay, I’m outta here. See ya.”

Before she could push off, Emilio touched her shoulder. “No. Wait.” 

Remorse filled his eyes as he held out the skateboard he carried. “I brought this for you. Guess you don’t need it though.”

Was that supposed to be some kind of lame peace offering? And anyway, how had he known Violet didn’t have a board?

“I don’t want to get mixed up in Rex’s trouble,” Violet said. She turned toward Sloane and gestured to keep going. 

He kept pace with them, riding alongside. “He needs help. It’s bad!” 

“Yeah, so what? I don’t care,” Violet said.

“You’re the only one I can think of to help him,” Emilio said.

“Better think harder, then,” she replied. After catching sight of the skate park bathed in overhead lights, she dropped their conversation, zeroed in on the half-pipe, and sped up. 

Finding the park empty except for one novice skate boarder taking the small ramps, she raced to the half-pipe, breathing hard, anticipating the electrifying charge of the drop. Screaming down it at dizzying speeds, she launched herself up the other side. She sailed high, gripping her board. After she smacked into a perfect landing, she threw her head back, laughed, and pumped her arms high in the air. “That was awesome!” She yelled out to no one in particular.

Sloane skidded to a stop near her. “What the—?! Violet, how did you do that? You scared me to death, but it was so cool!”

Trey rode up on his bike, his big smile lighting up his whole face, “Vy! You’re back!”

Violet jumped off her board and ran to hug him. Over Trey’s shoulder, Violet caught Sloane’s amused look, her eyebrows lifting several times. Violet stepped back and said, “Trey, this is my friend, Sloane.”

He assessed Sloane’s fifteen-speed road bike. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she said back, sizing up his shabby clothes. After he turned his back to Sloane, she gave Violet a look that clearly implied she didn’t approve of this guy. He wasn’t the polo-and-kaki type they were used to. 

Trey’s eyes held the same shadow of worry that Emilio’s had. Where was Emilio, anyway? Violet spotted him hanging around the far edges of the park turning his attention from her, back to the street as if deciding whether to stay or go.

“You hear ‘bout Rex?” he asked.

“No, what happened?” she replied.

“Got the livin’—” Trey glanced over at Sloane and apparently decided not to cuss. “He got beat up bad.”

A satisfying bit of glee started to pull Violet’s face into a grin. Rex finally got what he deserved. Out of nowhere, her conscience got all prickly and erased her grin. She shivered. “Who did it?”

“I dunno.” He regarded Emilio. “That guy came here lookin’ for you. Told me Rex got beat up bad, but that’s all. You know him?”

“Yeah, that’s Emilio. His mom—” She started to say that his mom worked for her family, but she quickly reconsidered. She didn’t want to make a show of her family’s money. “Our families know each other.”  

Violet motioned for Emilio to come over, and he rushed toward them on his board. His wheels scraped to a hurried halt an inch from Violet’s board. 

“You have to come see him. He needs help now,” Emilio blurted out.

“I came to skate,” Violet said. She started to push herself away on her board, and Emilio grabbed her arm to stop her. His grip wasn’t mean; it was more urgent and desperate. Violet felt the difference, but Trey yanked Emilio’s grip off of her.

“Back off!” Trey warned, pushing his face close to Emilio’s.

“Man, you back off. What’s your problem?” Emilio retorted, squaring his shoulders.

Violet stepped between them, placing a hand on each of their chests, pushing them away from each other. “Hey, hey. Settle down,” she said, her voice stern. “It’s okay Trey. I think he’s just a little… scared, maybe?” She looked to Emilio who stuck out his chin defiantly, but she saw the chill of fear in his eyes. 

“Why do you want me to help him?” Violet asked. “We’re not even friends.”

“Just— please. Come with me, you’ll see what I mean,” Emilio begged.

Uncertain what to do, Violet looked to Sloane for help. 

Sloane hesitated as if weighing the pros and cons in her mind. Finally, she said, “Let’s go.”

About the Author:

Renée Lichtenhan’s “I Am Girl” novels grew out of years of working with children. Renée loves their open minds, hearts,and souls. She wanted to write engaging books that might encourage faith and virtue to take shape within that openness. She lives with her husband in Mississippi, where they raised their three grown children.

Website:  www.ReneeLichtenhan.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Renée-Lichtenhan-Author-1180732865414043/?modal=admin_todo_tour

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/lichtenhan/

Buy Link: https://www.anaiahpress.com/product/violet/71?cp=true&sa=false&sbp=false&q=false&category_id=6

The star of today’s Cat Tail is Jasper.

Jasper is a beautiful tiger-striped cat with long fluffy hair and a pretty mane. He was born with sad, droopy eyes.

When Jasper was six months old, we had him neutered, along with his littermate, Socks. They were born to a feral cat and lived outside for the first three months until we brought them in to tame them. We couldn’t find homes for the two of them, so after their surgery, I put both Jasper and Socks back outside to live with our other cats in the garage. They’d only been out there a few weeks when Socks got hit by a car and died. So feeling guilty, and worried that something would happen to Jasper, also, I brought Jasper back into the house to stay. In the time that he was outside, he lost all the hair in his mane. (It has since grown back.)

Jasper has a “scaredy-cat” personality. He is especially wary of me. If I walk into the room where he is, he runs away and hides under the furniture. If I pet him when I walk past him, he startles.

Although Jasper has never warmed up to me, he’s affectionate with my kids. My daughter picks him up and holds him, and he loves to cuddle with her. He also stands outside the kids’ rooms when their doors are closed and cries for attention.

Jasper likes being close to our other cats. Anna and Elsa, who are three years older than Jasper, get annoyed with him. When they go to the food dish, he goes with them. When Elsa is lying on the couch, he likes to cuddle up to her. She doesn’t appear to like it, but she tolerates it.

He and his two littermates, Stormy and Ash, often sprawl on the couch together.

Although Jasper acts like a “scaredy-cat” sometimes, he fits in with the rest of our rescued cats and is an important part of our household.

One of my most memorable spring break trips was one I took while living in Saltillo, Mexico in 1988. We went to a small village called San Francisco de __ (I’m sorry I don’t recall the rest of the name. I looked it up on a map, but there are many towns that start with San Francisco, and I couldn’t figure out which one it was).

Shortly after that trip, I wrote a letter to my parents and told them about the spring break experience. My mom kept all of my letters from Mexico. I’ve copied parts of the letter here, with notations to explain things added in parentheses.

“Last week on Tuesday 5 of us went on an adventure: One young guy, who is 17, and 4 of us older girls. We decided to visit San Francisco, not in California, but here about an hour from Saltillo. The church (here in Saltillo) has a church there, and we went to stay with the people and visit them.

“We went by bus to a small town, and ate lunch there with one of the girls’ aunts. Then we started out walking to San Francisco, about 10 miles away, with sleeping bags and all of our overnight bags.

(I don’t know if the distance is correct, but at the time I wrote about it, that is what I thought. Since I was told it in kilometers, which I didn’t know how to convert to miles, I’ve never quite figured out how far we went.)

“On Monday I had gone running with a friend and so my muscles were sore. We went about a mile, and sat down beside the road to rest and pray. We prayed that God would revive our spirits, and send a truck to give us a ride. We started walking, and within 2 minutes a water truck drove by and gave us a ride to a small town, about 5 miles.

“Then we began to walk again, this time with much singing and laughing. I think we went about 2-2 ½ miles before we (got tired and) laid down in the gravel road to rest. I took a couple of pictures, and while I was standing, I saw a pickup truck coming. We waved it down, and the man gave us a ride as far as San Francisco. There were 5 little kids in the cab, and when we climbed in the back, they were all giggling.

“San Francisco is a small town, about 150 people, in the desert/hills region. They have outdoor toilets and animals running around. The people are very hard workers, and generous. We ate dinner with two different church families, and they both fed us coffee and a plate of beans.

“We held a church service, and before the service the 5 of us prayed together. God used the young guy tremendously, and the rest of us were also used to sing and pray and share the Word. No one wanted to leave, and it was 11:15 p.m. when we finally left the church.”

That spring break trip was a great experience for me, and allowed me to become part of something much bigger than myself. I watched God move in the hearts of people as we worshipped and shared together. It holds a place as one of my favorite memories from my time in Mexico.

There are other parts of that trip, not such fun ones, that I will share in next Monday’s post.