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Show A Sm all Resurrect ion By Louis R. Jackson "This is not going to be a pleasant Easter," Jim muttered mut-tered to himself. He stood by his dresser and buttoned the crisp white shirt his wife had just ironed. Nancy was still finishing up a few last minute pressing jobs as their two children, sitting at the kitchen table, ate a cold cereal breakfast before running run-ning off to school. He could hear the sounds of family downstairs. Nancy's voice was honey and the childrens fresh crispies popping in a bowl of milk. Morning . excitement ran high even though it was Monday. Next Sunday was Easter, and all activity was rushing toward the hoped for pleasantries of that day. Jim was uneasy. He had stewed the thought of visiting his mother, Math-rine Math-rine Cobbles, for three weeks. His parting from home years ago remained a bitter experience for him. His mother still held resentment resent-ment and righteousness as a comforting shield, and he still thrust with sullen independence and parried with indifference in the battle that had quietly raged for ten years in his rebellious heart. He knew he was at fault. He also knew his mother's failings. It was only after close self-examination and a strong desire that his children know his side of the family that he determined a meeting had to take place. It had been the preparation prepara-tion for his Easter sermon at church that had told him his bitterness. "What good a resurrection if I still feel the same way?" he had asked himself. The hellish condition condi-tion that existed between himself and his mother defied further hypocritical preparation. "I must forgive and ask forgiveness to make a new life meaningful," he had blurted out to himself one evening at his study desk. Since that time, he had asked to be excused from the speaking assignment, declaring de-claring to his replacement friend that he had to get his house in order first. It was not often he was asked to participate, and he had looked forward to the performance. perfor-mance. "Oh, well," he said to himself as he adjusted his tie. Taking his jacket from the bed, he winced as he thought what he now had to ask his wife. Nancy had kissed the children goodbye, and they had shouted their goodbyes up the stairs to their father just before they left for school. The squeaking squeak-ing of the folding ironing board said his wife had finished her chore. When Jim came slowly down the stairs, Nancy was cleaning up the children's dishes. "I don't know how to say this, Nance," he said and slid sideways into a chair that' had been thrown back from the table by Steven, the eight year old, in his hurry to leave for school. A wave of guilt and determination was at his throat and heart. "I've got to get things right between Mathrine and me." Nancy slowed her pace but kept rinsing the breakfast dishes. She had often heard her husband complain of family feelings, but there had never been an expressed desire on his part to do anything but complain about them. Special occasions holidays, ho-lidays, birthdays and anniversaries, anni-versaries, had sometimes made him blue, but a shrug of his shoulders changed his attitude, and soon the blues were gone, replaced with activity and a change of mind. No one ever thought it wise to look for causes. "I've got to see her this Easter." "How can you, Jim? You have a talk to give at church." "I got Perry to give it. It's all taken care of." "Well, if you're not going to be there, I don't want to go alone. What will I do with the dress I'm supposed to pick up today? And the hat ... and gloves? And how can you afford the trip?" "That's what I wanted to talk to you about," Jim swallowed hard and looked at the floor to avoid the anguish he knew he'd find in her face. "I thought, maybe, we could go together. Perhaps Per-haps with you there I'd do what I want to ... and must. I've got to get it right! I've got to be able to live with myself ... and look at myself in the mirrow without condemnation con-demnation or justification. I have to know I've tried. We could even take the kids." An excitement came into his voice, and the contagious " hope for a better relationship with his mother caught hold of Nancy. She even wished for a "new" grandmother for her children. Her side of the family had been their only experience. But how? Could Jim change himself that much to make it come about? "How can we afford it?" her challenge brought her mind back to reality and the table she was cleaning. and burst out laughing. The problems were solved in the following days, and when a return letter came that expressed delight about their Easter plans, Jim relaxed and knew he had done was right even though it might yet be difficult. It was only after the visit that everyone shared his feelings. Grandma Cobbles had won a new granddaughter, granddaugh-ter, and Sara couldn't wait for another Easter reason to visit and had made personal plans to visit her grandmother grandmo-ther in July, when they would celebrate their birthdays birth-days together. Steven anxiously anx-iously guarded the basket of candy and chocolate eggs his "nicest" grandma had given him. Nancy came to know the reason for her husband's sensitive, generous, and loving nature and felt great empathy for her mother-in-law when the two women compared notes on the man they both loved. Jim and his mother were both able to see their failings, and the communications communica-tions entered into with openness proved that they both cared more than they realized. The dying relationship rela-tionship found a footing upon which both promised to build through visits, letters and phone calls and prayers. It had been a very pleasant Easter and the resurrection of a new relationship was better than the one that had been. The expense of the trip was more than halved when they returned home. Steven found a better friend in Max who, knowing Steven wouldn't be at the egg hunt, doubled his efforts and shared his fantastic hoard with him. Sara's friend, by an infraction of home rules, had lost the party privilege and all her friends spent their day at home. Nancy was happiest of all when her friend Ann reported to her that three ladies had shown up at church each wearing the same style just like Nancy had wanted. It was later that Jim discovered his substitute speaker, Perry, had honored him in his talk. He had mentioned that Jim couldn't talk about things that he didn't practice, that to know of the Savior's love for man he had to live it even at home. The renewal of his love had not been vanity. It had been a small resurrection resurrec-tion in which everyone could participate in preparation for the big one. Cobbles. She'd miss a super party. Everyone was going to be there, and on, and on, and on. I couldn't satisfy her. She didn't even want any of my 'old cinnamon rolls' and ran off .to her room. It's been so quiet I think she might have cried herself to sleep." "It looks like I'm spoiling everyone's Easter. Maybe I can explain the reasons to her. She's a popular twelve year old, and I. can understand under-stand her disappointment of not being with her friends. Perhaps we can talk it out." Jim finished his milk, wiped his mouth, and gave Nancy a kiss. After an understanding and hopeful exchange of glances, he went upstairs to knock at Sara's door. While they talked, Nancy set the table and began cooking supper. Steven had come in, had washed and watched TV before his mother asked him to come to "If you didn't get an Easter outfit," Jim said apologetically. The silence was not angry. It was almost void except for the fragments of a dream that whirled in a dense darkness. In that black chasm, a comet burned. It was still too distant to hear the fibers of expectation and desire fizzle, curl, and turn to black dust on that .midnight thought. As the blaze neared her heart, it burned brighter and burst in a silent explosion of light which filled Nancy's eyes and mind. There was a keen peace, and that serenity would be her Easter dress. She smiled uncontrollably with her discovery. "That's, great!" she beamed. "Really?" and overcome with her reply, Jim held her close. Her unselfishness overwhelmed him. the table. Laughter and sounds of tenderness and acceptance preceded Jim ; and Sara as they left her room and came downstairs. "Well, you two, I've certainly cer-tainly missed you. Steven and I were about to eat without you. Sit down and we'll have prayer." They all sat down and in the family prayer, Jim expressed his thanks for the spirit of love-they love-they had in their family and for sweet, understanding children. After the prayer, all began talking at once except Steven. His mother, noticing his silence, asked, "What are you thinking about, Steven? You're so quiet." Steven's eyes brightened as he raised his voice. "I was thinking how many Easter eggs I'm going to get next Saturday at the party in the park. This time I'm going to beat Max. He always gets more than I do," and he set his jaw in grim determination. determina-tion. "Oh, no!" cried everyone ii.uwuj.i.n inn.... I iii.iini i uiiii.i . ii imuwim J "g -1 11 cancel my shopping trip with Ann and start getting things ready for the trip. You'd better write a letter so she'll know we're coming." Jim kissed his wife and then pushed the chair back further in his effort to escape to the great day of sunshine and preparatibn that he could handle for what lay ahead of him. When he came home that night, Nancy greeted him at the door, kissed and hugged him, and sat him down in the clicLir "Oh, oh. What's up?" he asked as she offered him a glass of milk and a warm cinnamon roll just recently baked. "Sara came home with an invitation to an Easter Party for next Saturday. I tried to explain to her that we had planned to go to her grandmother grand-mother Cobbles' for Easter, and she'd not be home. Well, that brought tears and complaints. She didn't want to know her grandmother |
