Here is a story I wrote as I pondered and reflected during lent...
“I can’t believe you made your clothes dirty by playing in the mud again!” shrieked his very irate mom. “Do you know how much time it takes to wash that out of your school uniform?” The boy glanced at his father, searching his eyes for support. The father grinned knowingly, and the son began a wan smile. But their shared moment of boyish glee was swatted aside: “Dad, make your son remember this lesson!” with that, the mother lumbered away to resume her endless toil. Reluctantly, the father took his boy to the bedroom and spanked him.
Years later, the boy was now grown. But he still had a penchant for getting dirty. Once, he rushed home to try and wash the grass stains out from the front of his shirt but struggled in vain. Yet, he could not wait to tell his dad about his amazing find that drew him into the mess in the first place. So he pounced his father as soon as him when he walked in the door: “Dad! Dad! You won’t believe what I found in…”
“Son! Look at you!” scowled the boy’s father as he took in the messy uniform.
“Yeah, I know dad! But let me tell you what I saw in the…”
“You always have an excuse! Don’t you know how angry mom gets each time you come home with dirty uniforms?”
“But dad…” the boy pleaded.
"There, now I've said it. I don't want to hear any more of it." Their eyes remained locked in a battle of wills as moments of tension passed ever so slowly. The father paused and reminisced the times when mischief got him into trouble as a boy and was considering relenting when suddenly his boy raised his voice in frustration: "What, DAD? You mean to tell me YOU never got into trouble for being a KID?!!"
The father snapped and lashed the boy with words, releasing years of angst in his tirade, stabbing deeply into the boy’s heart in frustration and fear that he would once again not learn this lesson.
“Whatever!” the boy snapped--fighting back tears, he stormed into his room and slammed the door shut. The father shook his head incredulously and consoled himself that he was doing the best he can.
More years passed, and now the father was old. He was taking a long walk one day when the weather turned suddenly. A rainstorm blew in and caused the path to get muddy. The old father slipped in the slop and stumbled--soiling his clothes. “Ironic!” chuckled the old man as he remembered how he used to fuss at his boy for getting his uniform dirty. His thoughts shifted to how he would have to explain his dirty clothes to his wife and share the irony with his son when he wandered off the muddy path and slipped down the slope! Pain stunned the old man as he whimpered near the bottom of the slope... and drifted off into a foggy stupor.
Hours later, the boy came down the very same path and walked gingerly through the mud. He was careful to avoid one particularly treacherous section of the path that washed out to the ravine below and shuddered as he considered what might happen to him if he slid down. He walked nimbly by… oblivious that his father was below… and emerged smugly with shoes still pristine. He felt guilty that he could not find his father, but consoled himself that he was doing the best he can.
The father survived the fall and was found eventually, but was paralyzed. The long hours of exposure caused his recovery to be extended. At first, the boy resented having to care for the father and struggled not to vent his anger by being rough and cruel. One morning, the boy watched as a nurse patiently cleaned his father after he had soiled himself. Livid, he lashed out at his father and the nurse: “Why do you waste your kindness on him? He is so useless! Look at him!”
The nurse continued wiping the father gently, but tears streamed down the father’s face. The boy wasn’t fully certain that the father could hear and comprehend what was being said around him until now because he had remained in a catatonic state since the fall.
A few days later, as the boy trudged past the nurse’s station on the way to his father’s room, the nurse handed him a plain piece of paper with two words scrawled in pencil. “It’s from your father,” she said earnestly.
The boy glanced down at the note. “I sorry,” he sneered as he read the note. The nurse grasped his hand and said gently: “Try to forgive him for whatever pain he has caused you… he is the only father you have.” The boy looked away quickly as conflicting emotions roiled in him. The nurse continued tenaciously: “I see patients die every day, and talk to their surviving family as they grieve.” The nurse ducks her head to engage the boy’s eyes. He attempts to wrestle free, but the nurse held his hands tightly and continued. “You still have time. He did the best he could—now it is your turn to decide what is most important to have in your future and work for it.” With that, the boy broke free and dashed down the hall sobbing.
Still more years pass, and now the boy has grown into a man with a son of his own. One day his son came home with a muddy uniform… immediately, he tore into his son, drowning him with years of angst. In the middle of the tantrum, the man was astonished at his behavior and balked. His son ran into his room with tears and snot running down his face.
The man slumped to his knees and cried out to God, pleading for a better way as years of suppressed memories returned to haunt him. He felt a glow in his heart, and forgiveness unburdens him. With renewed hope, he stepped gingerly towards the bedroom and toward his son who was still sobbing into a pillow. The man sat beside his son and put an arm around him. The man apologized and held his son until he raised his messy red face. “Okay, now son--tell me what on earth led you into this messy adventure!”
~ Shien
