Ben Carson Gifted Hands Book Novels & Stories

"I think we should set a date for our wedding, Leslie. I really want us to start a family and have a baby together." I smiled faintly and laced my fingers through his. "I'd like that. I hope we can have a daughter who will be every bit as sweet as her father." "Oh, stop it..." Oscar mumbled. Oscar and I walked home hand in hand. The warm, amber glow of the sunset elongated our joined shadows into long, delicate forms. I had no idea how much time had passed since then, but late one evening, I received a call from Shawn, who was using a new, anonymous number to reach me.

My head throbbed, too many emotions crashed into me at once. Grief. Anger. Humiliation. Confusion. If I had always been their daughter, then what had I been to them all these years? A sacrifice? A tool to help Mama fulfill Aunt Alice's dying wish? A prop that allowed Papa to play the role of a noble man? “Come on.” Mama gently pushed me into the chair. “Let's celebrate properly. Today is the day our family is finally whole again.” The scars on my arms and back suddenly began to itch, as if the memories themselves were crawling beneath my skin.

“Why are your hands so cold? Have you been too tired lately? I will reduce the interest on that debt by another two points for you. How does that sound?” My body stiffened before I forced out a polite smile. “Thank you, Mr. Cardea.” Daniel smiled and patted the top of my head. “Good girl. Come home tonight. I want that pot roast you make. Do not keep me waiting.” Home. That villa on the hillside was not home. It was a beautiful place that felt like a prison. I returned to my desk and opened the memo app on my phone. The numbers on the screen represented my mother’s life.

The cover bore her grandmother’s initials, and Isabelle’s fingers trembled as she untied the ribbon and flipped through the pages. The journal was filled with elegant handwriting and detailed accounts of her grandmother’s life. As Isabelle read, her pulse quickened. Her grandmother had mentioned peculiar traits that ran in their bloodline—children who were highly intelligent, physically advanced, and emotionally attuned. One passage caught Isabelle’s attention: "Our family carries a gift, but with it comes responsibility. The children born with this gift grow quickly, learn faster, and feel deeper. It is not something to fear but to nurture. Yet, the world may not understand, and secrecy is

Satisfied with his pitiful state, I waved my hand in the air to wrap up. Out of thin air, his body was engulfed by furious red flames, and the underground cell filled with ear-piercing screams and a rotten smell. I swiveled on my heels before whispering the complete answer to his questions under my breath, “And for the world… gifted.” I left the room and passed other gang members in the hallway. They watched at me in pure horror before bowing their heads down in front of me.

But deep down in her heart, she knew that she had not been careful at all or else she would not end up pregnant. Later that afternoon, a package arrived at her mother’s house that stole any remaining piece of her heart that did not already firmly belong to him. The box was wrapped in white paper with a big blue and white striped bow. Inside there was a book but it was not just any other book. It was ‘The Very Hungry Caterpillar’ by Eric Carle. The book pictographically described the evolution of a caterpillar eating its way through an array of food to eventually pupate into a beautiful butterfly. It was a gift from her grandmother back when she had been a kid however when Ella and her mother

She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought her lips close to his. “Wait, I have a gift for you,” he said in a whisper before their lips touched. She took her face away from his and looked him in the eye. “A gift? For me?” she asked, curious. Vincent gave her a gentle smile. His face suddenly turned cold. “Carson, bring in the gift,” he said in a loud voice. She panicked and immediately got up from his lap and put on her dress in a hurry as the door to the room opened. Carson walked in, holding a tab in his right hand and a briefcase in his left.

Maybe he was just super proud of it and wanted everyone to own a copy, but it was something that I thought Liam would like. Walking back to the pair, I opened the door a bit wider and kneeled down to Liam's height. He eyed me skeptically as I held the book out to him. "You like space, right?" I opened the front cover, revealing the curly letters of the signature spelling out Katherine G. Johnson. "I got it as a gift, but I think you would like it more than I would. Plus, I'm sure that you're more than smart enough to understand the derivations on here."

I commend her resilience. My triplets looked adorable. Briana raised them well. Then, I remembered Marcus Ford and the envy redoubled. Marcus was there when I wasn’t. Another ache pierced my heart. The children opened the bags and exclaimed over their gifts. “Thank you, Noah!” They chorus while I watch them with blurry eyes. “This one is for you.” I handed Briana the smaller bag with the books. “I hope you like the potted flowers I sent yesterday.” Briana nodded, and when I looked at her, she was uncomfortable.

“Shall we proceed with the gifts before dessert? I believe the children are at risk of bursting if we delay any longer.” Carter’s grin broke wide. “Yes, Grandma, please!” Laughter filled the table, light and genuine. For a moment, Monet allowed herself to breathe, to smile. She passed Meredith her carefully wrapped book set, tied with a blue ribbon. The girl’s face softened as she unwrapped it, her composure cracking just enough to reveal a beam of gratitude. Carter tore into his parcel with less ceremony—Monet’s knitted scarf in navy blue—and promptly looped it around his neck with dramatic flair.