The
Greatest
of These
My
day began on a decidedly sour note when I saw my six-year-old
wrestling with a limb of my azalea bush. By the time I got
outside, he'd broken it.
"Can
I take this to school today?" he asked.
With a wave of my hand, I sent him on. I turned my back
so he wouldn't see the tears gathering in my eyes. I loved
that azalea bush. I touched the broken limb as if to say
silently, I'm sorry.
I wished I could have said that to my husband earlier, but
I'd been angry. The washing machine had leaked on my brand-new
linoleum. If he'd just taken the time to fix it the night
before instead of playing checkers with Jonathan. What are
his priorities anyway? I wondered.
I was still mopping up the mess when Jonathan walked into
the kitchen. "What's for breakfast, Mom?"
I opened the empty refrigerator. "Not cereal,"
I said, watching the sides of his mouth drop. "How
about toast and jelly?" I smeared the toast with jelly
and set it in front of him. Why was I so angry? I tossed
my husband's dishes into the sudsy water.
It was days like this that made me want to quit. I just
wanted to drive up to the mountains, hide in a crevice,
and never come out.
Somehow I managed to lug the wet clothes to the laundromat.
I spent most of the day washing and drying clothes and thinking
how love had disappeared from my life. Staring at the graffiti
on the walls, I felt as wrung-out as the clothes left in
the washers.
As I finished hanging up the last of my husband's shirts,
I looked at the clock on the wall. 2:30. I was late. Jonathan's
class let out at 2:15. I dumped my clothes in the back seat
and hurriedly drove to the school.
I was out of breath by the time I knocked on the teacher's
door. I peered in through the glass. With one finger, she
motioned for me to wait. She said something to Jonathan
and handed him and two other children crayons and a sheet
of paper.
What now? I thought, as she rustled through the door and
took me aside. "I want to talk to you about Jonathan,"
she said.
I prepared myself for the worst. Nothing would have surprised
me. I had had a fight with my husband and we weren't speaking,
my son had broken a limb off my favorite bush, and now this.
"Did
you know Jonathan brought flowers to school today?"
she asked.
I nodded, trying to keep the hurt in my eyes from showing.
I glanced at my son busily coloring a picture. His wavy
hair was too long and flopped just beneath his brow. He
brushed it away with the back of his hand. His eyes burst
with blue as he admired his handiwork.
"Let
me tell you about yesterday," the teacher insisted
"See that little girl?"
I watched the bright-eyed child laugh and point to a colorful
picture taped to the wall. I nodded.
"Well,
yesterday she was almost hysterical. Her mother and father
are going through a nasty divorce. She told me she didn’t
want to live, she wished she could die. I watched that little
girl bury her face in her hands and say loud enough for
the class to hear, 'Nobody loves me.' I did all I could
to console her, but it only seemed to make matters worse."
"I
thought you wanted to talk to me about Jonathan," I
said.
"I
do," she said, touching the sleeve of my blouse. "Today
your son walked straight over to that child. I watched him
hand her some pretty pink flowers and whisper, 'I love you.'"
I felt my heart swell with pride for what my son did. I
smiled at the teacher, "Thank you," I said, reaching
for Jonathan's hand, "you've made my day."
Later
that evening, I began pulling weeds from around my lopsided
azalea bush. As my mind wandered back to the love Jonathan
showed the little girl, a biblical verse came to me: "...now
these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest
of these is love." My son had put love into practice.
But all day I had only thought of how angry I was with my
husband.
I heard the familiar squeak of my husband's truck brakes
as he pulled into the drive. I snapped a small limb bristling
with hot pink azaleas off the bush. I felt the seed of love
that God planted in my family beginning to bloom once again
in me.
My husband's eyes widened in surprise as I handed him the
flowers. "I love you," I said.
©
1999
