Pride Can’t Let Go
Sunlight poured through the dinning room window reflecting a multitude of colours off the surface fo the many faceted crystal vase. Rebecca was lost in memory as she filled it with fresh flowers.
“Grandma,” said Benji. “Tell me the story about the vase.”
“You know that one by heart Benji,” Rebecca said.
“I know, but it’s my favourite.”
“Well, let me see,” Rebecca sighed. “That was more than fifty years ago, now. That’s a long time to remember.”
“Grandma,” Benji said in exasperation. “You remember.”
“Okay,” said Rebecca. She ruffled the hair on top of his head and he ducked away. “You win. It all started when my sister Miranda…”
“Grandma, Grandma,” called Katie as she rushed into the dinning room. “There’s a mean old lady at the front gate.”
“Oh my,” said Rebecca. “Is it that time already?”
“Is she the one who spits at you?” asked Katie.
“Is she the one in the story?” asked Benji.
“Hush, both of you, I’ll be right back.” Rebecca smoothed the front of her dress as she rose from her chair. She tucked a wayward strand of grey hair back in place, pausing for a moment before opening the door. Then uttering a silent prayer, she went out to meet her sister.
Brightly coloured roses lined the walkway to the front gate. A white picket fence held in all the love and memories one person could hope for. Rebecca only had one regret. She was standing at the front gate of Rebecca’s yard, as she had every day since Charles’ death. Miranda had not dare to come before that, but now she aimed the full fury of her wrath on one who should have been her friend.
“Good morning Miranda,” Rebecca greeted her sister. “Isn’t it a lovely day?”
“Lovely day, my eye,” Miranda spat the words out with distained. “There hasn’t been a lovely day for me in fifty-two years.”
“I’m sorry you still feel that way.” Rebecca said.
“Sorry, Sorry,” shouted Miranda. “You’re not sorry.”
“What I did to you was wrong Miranda,” Rebecca said. “I was a selfish young woman fifty-two years ago. That all changed when Charles and I met Jesus.”
“I don’t want to hear about your Jesus. That’s just an excuse.”
“Miranda, Jesus forgave me. Please, won’t you let go of your bitterness and forgive me too?” Rebecca asked.
“Never,” Miranda spat out the word. “You don’t deserve forgiveness.”
“None of us do,” said Rebecca. “But Jesus died for us anyway.”
“Your so simple minded,” Miranda said continuing her tirade. “You ruined a good man. Charles should have been mine!”
“Miranda, I love you. I hope some day you will understand.” Rebecca said. “My grandchildren are waiting. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She turned and walked back to the house, praying for her sister as she as she went.
“Grandma,” Katie said when Rebecca returned to the dinning room. “If she’s your sister, how come she’s so mean to you?”
“Sometimes Katie, people let their pride keep them from forgiving. When they do that, they become bitter old people.”
“What’s pride Grandma?” asked Benji.
“Pride is when people think they are better than others, or when they think they don’t need God.”
“But Grandma,” said Katie. “You are better than she is. You don’t spit on people.”
Rebecca hid her smile. “No Sweetheart, I don’t spit on people, but without Jesus I could be just like my sister.”
“I’m glad you have Jesus,” said Benji.
“Me too,” said Katie. “I love you Grandma.
“Can we pray for her right now?” asked Benji. “She needs Jesus too.”
Rebecca drew them both close to her heart as she prayed with them for her sister. “Someday Jesus, Someday.” she whispered to her Lord.