“Hello
Father, good afternoon.”
“Hello Lisa,
a very good afternoon to you too. Have you come for a confession?”
“Yes,
Father. Mom says I should speak to God if I am feeling bad about something I
did, but doesn’t God already know everything?”
“Your mommy
is right, sweetheart. God knows everything, but he wants to know how you feel
about it. He wants to know if something is troubling you. If you think you did
something wrong and sometimes even if you don’t think you did anything wrong at
all, but the story just the same. Do you want to tell me what is bothering
you?”
“I want to
tell God, I tried to today, but I wasn’t sure if he was listening. Jackie was
asking for a toy at the same time in his room. Maybe our voices got muddled?
Then mom was calling me, she was making a lot of noise too, with the mixer and
the ‘Lizzyyyyyyy… finish your milk!’ Maybe God couldn't hear me. So I thought I
should come here. Does God ask you what people confess to you or does He sit
with you in there somewhere?”
“You’re a
bright little spark, aren't you? God listens to everything, but He also wants
you to know that you are being heard. He trusts that I will not reveal your
secret or be angry with you, so He lets me listen to confessions. Tell me Lisa,
what is troubling you?”
“It is my
friend Sahiba. She is also in my class. Class 3 section B. She sits with me
since we were in KG section A. Our class teacher, Miss Ann, she calls us some
twins, Assamese twins I think; but neither of us is from Assam, I don’t know
why she calls us that. Sahiba is my best friend, but I don’t like her as much
as she likes me. I like her more than the others, but I don’t like her too much
because Miss Ann likes her more than me. I also don’t like her hair; it’s
straight and long, not curly and short like mine. She isn't as plump as me
either. Mom says Sahiba is very smart
because she got an A in the math test, I got a C. I hate her because she is
better than me at everything, but I like to play with her and sit with her. I
like the parathas her mom gives her for tiffin break and she likes my peanut butter
and jam sandwiches. Maybe we have the wrong moms. OK God, don’t listen to that.
I love my mom, don’t change her, just the way she cooks maybe. More like Mrs
Grover, Sahiba’s mom.
Last week, I
stuck a chewing gum in Sahiba’s hair when she wasn't looking. She saw it during
the last period, and started crying because it wouldn't come off. I was telling
her it will be okay, and she held my hand and kept crying even after Miss Ann
tried to console her. I was feeling a little bad because of the way she kept sobbing
and saying that she didn't eat the gum. Who would do that to her? I kept
telling her that maybe she picked it from some wall or cupboard. When we were
packing our bags for the day, she saw the chewing gum wrapper in my desk, near
my pencil box. She looked at me and ran away. I felt bad, but I felt angry at
her. Why did she think I did it? Doesn't she trust me?
She came the
next day; her hair was chopped off till her shoulders. She wore a pretty, pink
hair band. It had a cream bow on one side. Her hair looked pretty, but not as
much as when she had it long. I felt a little guilty, but it would grow back
again, right? Also, I was angry at her because she thought I did it. I thought
she would sit with Ananya in the first bench; they both seemed to get all the
‘A’s anyway. They might as well sit together but she came to our bench and
smiled at me. She asked how her hair looked. She told me that her mom had taken
her to the parlour for the haircut and for ice cream afterwards. She even got a
new Barbie and asked me if I would go play with it that evening. I hate her.
She’s being nice to me so that I feel bad. I know it. She has been the same
every day, just like she was before. I hate her God, she is making me feel like
a horrible girl. Why won’t she just fight with me once? Why won’t she tell Miss
Ann, my mom or her mom everything? Maybe she told Mrs. Grover, but I didn't
notice anything when I went to play with her Barbie. Mrs. Grover made these
tasty pakodas for us and green chutney. God, why can’t Sahiba hit me or steal
my new pencil, the blue one that she liked? If she does that we’ll be even and
I can try not to hate her. I think I am a bad person God, and it is all her
fault.
That is all
Father. I don’t know what else to say. I am sorry I did that to her hair, but I
hate her even more now because I also love her and I know that I hurt my best
friend. I don’t know what to do.”
“Lisa, stop
crying child. It is OK. You were brave to come and speak here, and God knows
that you are braver. You should talk to your friend, you should apologize and
you will not hate her or yourself anymore. You are a big girl and a good one at
that. You did something wrong and you want punishment for it. You are repenting
in your own way. You know what repentance is, dear? It is this feeling that you
have, that you did something wrong, that you wish to be punished for it and
that you wish for it to be known. Talk to your friend, your punishment will be
over then. You will be honest to her, you will say sorry to her and you both will
remain good friends. Will you do that child?”
“Yes Father.
I hope she still likes me after that. I hope God likes me too. I promise I will
not do this again. I promise to be a good friend.”
“Good girl. Now run off to your mom. God needs
to listen to many more secrets today.”
