His Mum heard me asking and spoke for him. “His sisters, you have three as well ... perhaps you could have a talk to him?”
I think I knew just what he might have been feeling having had three sisters of my own.
So after asking him what was up ... I told him a true story about my Dad, though it may have been embellished over the years with the retelling.
Dad had two sisters. One day one of those sister became one sister too many. Dad being a boy of action decided it was time to do something to fix the situation. He thought of a very “clever” plan. He wagged school, got a shovel from his Grandfather’s shed and went out back of their home at Rockdale. In those days it was a large market garden and had very sandy soil that was easily dug. Dad began digging and continued most of the day. He produced a lovely deep hole, just perfect to put his sister.
It was then that Dad realized his “clever” plan had one short coming. He had forgotten to bring a ladder. He was stuck, and couldn’t get himself out of the hole he had dug for himself. All he could do was start calling for help, which he did.
You may have already guessed who it was who heard his cry for help?
That sister who was the one sister too many found him, stuck in the hole. My Dad had to swallow his pride and ask her to rescue him. Aunty Elsie did. She pulled him out.
Dad thought then that maybe that ‘one sister too many’ might not be quiet as bad as he had thought. That maybe the reason they had not been getting on was more to do with his attitude and behaviour and how he had treated her.
Dad’s two sisters have both passed away now, and Dad misses then both deeply, but they both had a very real lively faith in the grace and forgiveness Jesus offer everyone who trusts what he did on the cross. He has the comfort that death is not the end and they will all be reunited one day in heaven with God.
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