The Hope of Hattie Phelan: Volume I

28

Forgiveness

I couldn't seem to outrun Constance or the echoes of Essie's voice. I didn't understand why I was so upset about Essie's words because I thought I was right. But then it hit me that I might not have been right. Over the past couple of days, I had been watching Constance to see if she was intentionally doing anything to harm me, and was shocked to find the opposite. This whole time she had been intentionally trying to help me and I was too blind to see it.

In the past, she'd help me with chores or go out of her way to make sure I was praised if I did something well. I wondered if my bitterness towards her had shown through my face, which made me feel all the more worse. I knew the inevitable was coming since I had to apologize to both Constance and Essie, but I didn't know how or when. How would I go up to someone and tell them that I hated them for no valid reason?

I struggled with these thoughts all the way to church on the hot summer day. Dust flew around us as the wheels of the wagon bit into the dirt. I coughed after inhaling a large dose of dust with my sigh. Luckily, we were almost there so I wouldn't have to endure the heat or coughing much longer. I didn't want to work up the previous illness I had.

Unfortunately, the church was just as hot inside as it was outside. There had been little to no rain this month so far, and I could tell the farmers were wondering about it. It had rained for a minute or so a couple days before, but that wasn't much. I was practically dying in my layers. I wanted to take my hat off, but I didn't know if it would be too distracting in church.

My fingers fidgeted before I took my gloves off, stuffing them in my pocket. I looked back up to see Reverend Davis go to the front of the church as he set his worn leather Bible upon the pulpit, looking out at his congregation.

"Forgiveness is one of the hardest things I've ever done," Reverend Davis started, flipping a page in his Bible. "Matthew six says, 'For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you: But if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.' We often as humans like to be right or we often misjudge people. We look at others for the speck of dust in their eye when all along we have a huge plank in our own. And in all honesty, I've seen a lot of unforgiveness among fellow Christians (myself included), and I realized that we have an example of Christ who forgave us when we were unworthy of it."

I felt my heart pang as the urge to apologize to Constance grew. After all she had done for me, I knew I should apologize to her because she hadn't deserved my hatred in the past. And if Jesus could die for everyone, why wouldn't I ask for forgiveness from Constance? I asked myself, before returning my focus back to the sermon, though my mind was preoccupied with thoughts of how I would approach both Constance and Essie in giving my apologies.

-=+=-

I walked out of the church, head downcast. A lot was on my mind, especially since that sermon had sent my head spinning. He talked about Christ forgiving me when I didn't deserve it, which felt so wrong but so right. But there was one thing I couldn't grasp—why would God not answer my prayers to save Ma? He was able to heal so many people, so why not Ma? I still couldn't understand it.

The wind blew hard, knocking my hat off my head—it seemed I hadn't pinned it on correctly. Luckily an arm reached out and grabbed the hat. It was Constance. My heart dropped in anticipation of the apology, but I stood there watching her, mouth agape.

"Constance," I said, feeling tears well up. "I'm sorry."

"Whatever for, Harriet?" Constance started, but I cut her off.