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Phoebe Finds Her Feet
Defend your principles, quoting 23 different Bible verses then see a above d just give in, go with the flow, and become identical to everyone else. After all, does it really matter? In this final hilarious Phoebe book our heroine faces her biggest challenge yet as she tries to stand out in a crowd for reasons other than her size. But when you're dealing with French exchange students, embarrassing school dances and mysterious thefts, it's hard to keep your mind on doing the right thing!
The story gives a Christian view point on bullying, peer pressure, being different and standing out in a crowd. Body image is a massive issue in our culture and this series portrays an overweight Christian girl in a positive light, telling of her struggles and discoveries in life. She was happy where she was. Phoebe stalked to a nearby branch of the bank that Deborah used for the payroll checks.
They would be happy to cash it for Phoebe - provided she had a driver's license. Phoebe knew how to drive, but lacking a permanent residence didn't have a legitimate ID, and all the fake ones were in other people's names. She ended up at a check-cashing place, which lopped off twenty percent of the paycheck and grudgingly allowed her the rest. Phoebe found a laundry place nearby and quickly went inside. She opened her duffel bag and stuffed her clothes into a washing machine. After feeding it another portion of her paycheck, it thrummed to life.
Phoebe stared at it, trying to keep her mind here, focused. She desperately wanted to drift away, to think of more pleasant times with her mother and sister, when she had a stepfather and a house and a school and a family, and while none of those things had been perfect the sum total had been all right, bearable. Before Ursula had beckoned her into the kitchen to show her what she'd discovered. Phoebe wrenched her mind away from that. A job, being given money to learn how to relax people with incense and massage. So different from anything she had ever done, but so easy, too, she could see where they were murky and make it go away and encourage the light to come out.
Raising her head, Phoebe glanced around. On one wall was a largish bulletin board. Phoebe walked over to it, her eyes wandering around the various pieces of paper. Her eyes came to rest on one, precisely lettered. Phoebe considered that for a long time. In a normal apartment. That meant living with someone else's rules. Phoebe had lived by herself for so long, had made her way with no one to answer to. She liked that, she cherished that, no one could hurt her that way. Phoebe drew a deep breath. She didn't want that, she hated that, that led to hurt and suffering and kitchen ovens.
But she'd also met people who had lived on the street for years, decades. They also didn't look too happy. Still, she'd managed to find a few points of lightness and joy here and there. Perhaps she could out there, too, in the 'normal' world. If she were willing to make a few changes in herself. That last line in the advertisement sounded ominous.
It sounded like losing control. Except her life wasn't really leading her anywhere. Just away from things. She needed time to stop, to rest, to reassess. This wasn't a commitment, it was just Phoebe reached out to take one of the strips that hung from the flyer, with a name and phone number printed on them. Like her sister had.
Like all the miserable people she knew had. Phoebe flinched, retracted her hand. She trembled, overwhelmed by the enormity of what she was contemplating. Following in her mother's footsteps, maybe reaching the same destiny her mother had. Or, or just maybe, finding her own way, her own destiny.
But oh, oh the risk. Phoebe turned away, the strips of paper undisturbed, and felt better.
The One After 'I Do' - Wikipedia
Whatever was in that apartment wasn't for her. She had her life, made with her own hands and relying on her own wits, and she'd done just fine. Phoebe looked around, saw a pay phone in one corner of the room. She still had lots of change in her pocket, and there was no time to wait or she'd never be able to see it through. She walked over, lifted up the receiver, pushed some quarters into the slot. Phoebe went back to the laundry machine where her clothes were being washed. Let Deborah complain, her customers didn't seem to mind.
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Perhaps Phoebe could buy some new blouses, placate Deborah for a while. Phoebe punched in some numbers, then listened as the phone rang. A young woman's voice said pleasantly, "Hello? Phoebe perched herself on the laundry machine, feeling the pleasant vibrations, relieved she had resisted the temptation to call that woman.
She didn't need that, stuff like that led to ovens. She'd find her own way, and to hell with ovens and neatness and normalcy. Her vision cleared, focused. New York police said that there were no clues to go on. But an investigator named Grace Humiston decided that she would do whatever it took to find her.
She became known as "Mrs.kick-cocoa.info/components/buhenowo/vixiv-spiare-whatsapp.php
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