Itís really cold and dark in here.
If I look under the door I can see a slice of light, but thereís nothing much else to see. I can just make out the shapes of Grammyís coats and her boots and I can see some boxes on the other side. It smells like moth balls and old dust. All I hear is Grammyís soap operas and the loud buzz of her snoring.
Iím in the closet again.
Thatís where Grammy puts me when Iím bad. I tried to explain I didnít mean to leave the milk out last night after dinner but she got so mad because she said the milk would spoil and do I think sheís made out of money. Being made out of money would be pretty weird so of course I donít think that. But when I told her, she just gave me that look again.
When sheís mad, her eyes get so cold. It seems like sheís angry most of the time. Sometimes I get through a whole day of doing things right and she doesnít yell or hit me. But today she woke me up really early about the milk and then she hit me with her belt again and put me here in the closet. The belt hurts something awful but sometimes the words she says hurt almost as much as the belt. When she puts me in the closet, she always says she canít stand to look at me any more. That used to make me cry.
I donít want to be bad. Grammy tells me all the time Iím bad because my Mama was bad. Mama died when I was a baby so I never knew her, so maybe itís true Mama was bad. All I know is I donít mean to be bad. I try really, really, hard to be good so maybe someday Grammy would love me or even be kind to me. But I donít think itís gonna happen.
This morning, Grammy was really, really mad. She was madder than sheís been in a long time because of the milk. I donít even know if the milk really was spoiled or just if she thought it could get spoiled, but she just yelled and yelled. While she was hitting me with the belt she kept saying over and over she doesnít know why God gave her such a trial with me; how she doesnít know how in the world anyone could be expected to love a wretched little child like me.
But Grammyís wrong.
I know sheís wrong because one time my Auntie Sue came from Boston and took me to church. The man in the front of the church was reading a book to us and it said God loves us. The book said He loves us with an everlasting love. I asked Auntie Sue if the Book meant me, too and she smiled and said yes. That made me really happy. God loves me!
So I know Grammyís wrong.
I wish Auntie Sue would come again and take me back to that church. Everyone seems happy there and it was nicer than being here with Grammy.
For now, Iím in this closet again. I wouldnít dare talk back to Grammy (I know what happens when I do) but no matter what Grammy says, I know God loves me. And Heís powerful enough to make the whole world. So, if God loves me enough to love me with an everlasting love, Iíll bet He can help me be good so Grammy wonít hit me so much. But even if He doesnít, I still know He loves me.
And that slice of Light means more than the one under the door.
ďÖ I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with loving-kindness.Ē Jeremiah 31:3 NIV
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