by esther robinson
Not For Sale
Author requests article critique
Not For Sale
Author requests article critique
“Mom! Don’t these slippers look good on my feet?” My daughter Sharon, enquired eagerly.
I looked at her and then at the object that attracted her attention like a magnet. “It does look good” I paused and then like a teacher remarked, “Remove it immediately. It’s not yours”
“Will you get a similar one for me then?” her tone shifted like changing notes on a piano while singing a medley from a pleading one to a demanding one.
“Alright” I replied in a descending cadence.
Yet enthusiasm erupted like a fountain making her exclaim, “Mom! Will it be exactly like this one?”
I affirmed again, “Alright!”
Elated at my response, removing it she questioned, “With beautiful butterflies, beaded on the strap and this ruby red color?”
“Isn’t baby pink the favorite color of my daughter?” With this question slashing the shore of my mind, I turned back to look at those slippers to register its appearance. I chided my poor sense of observation betwixt being in a hurry like a hare to reach my burrow. Besides moving mountains mentally, I dropped like a plant deprived of water following a hectic work schedule that day.
“Mom! Can you get it for me today?” My daughter pleaded.
“Honey! It is already dark. We must reach home now. I’ll certainly get it for you tomorrow.” I picked my daughter from the crčche and we walked down the lane holding hands.
After walking a few yards, once again she uttered, “Mom! I want it today.”
I assured her, “Definitely I’ll get it for you tomorrow.” However, my conscience pricked like a thorn. I knew that I told such a statement like offering chocolates to a crying child just to pacify her. Simultaneously, without her knowledge, from the inner vault of my heart I quickly sent a silent prayer like an arrow with this supplication, “Lord! Forgive me for telling a lie to my daughter. You know that being a working woman, I return home only at seven in the evening. Although You have given me enough money to get what she desires, I don’t know if I could exactly spot and get hold of the kind of slippers she is asking for with all those beautiful butterflies, beaded strap and bright red color. Please forgive me.”
After a short stroll we reached home. While my daughter became busy like a bee with her school assignment, I fixed her dinner. She went early to bed that day and I turned my attention towards the peripheral activities of cooking some extra delicacies for my husband and cleaning which although are mundane activities, a virtuous woman is expected to execute faithfully. After refreshing I sang like a lark. Suddenly I remembered that my husband had informed me earlier that day, “I will come home late tonight.” With ample hours in hand, I sat before the computer like a weaver before a loom trying to complete tasks left undone for quite some time.
I knew it was my husband when the door bell rang at ten and rushed like a sprinter to open the door. From outside he threw a black plastic cover to me like a ball. Then gesturing to join me shortly went downstairs. Hardly had I peeked into that cover I froze like an emoticon with bulging eyes turning right and left with wide open mouth questioning, “Am I dreaming?” A pair of slippers smiled at me with beautiful butterflies, beaded strap except that the color was baby pink. I stood still and heard a thundering voice coupled with simpering. “My daughter! Don’t you know that Your Creator can, not only forgive your lie but can also provide the desires of your daughter as well when this universe revolves at My command huh? Henceforth, expect greater things from Me. Your Creator certainly can take care and control of your life. Don’t worry. Believe in Me and you will see My glory.”
Later on I exclaimed in ecstasy, “How come you got hold of this?” My husband unaware of what took place told, “A friend of mine opened a shoe mart. He had invited me. I picked these slippers for Sharon from there.”
Then I narrated what had happened. He told, “Huh? Is that so?”
My daughter has out grown those slippers now. However, it sits like a queen inside a glass case whispering a reminder into my ears your ‘Creator can’ particularly when I feel like a cast away.
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