Sweet Contradiction
–
Jane Eyre
by Charlotte Bronte
hurried down the dirt road, barely aware of the large school bus pulling away behind me. I grasped my books to my chest and skipped along the road, kicking up dust and whistling the little tune my best friend, Jen, had taught me on the playground. It wasn’t usual for me to be so happy going home. I really preferred being at school. At school no one told you that Satan lurked around every corner, ready to snatch you into the pits of Hell, if you made a bad choice, if you weren’t on your guard. I didn’t want to go to Hell, but I did wish my momma would tell me stories that didn’t terrify me every once in a while. Today was different, though. Today was my ninth birthday and my best friend had given me the prettiest gift in the whole world, and I couldn’t wait to show it to my momma.
I made it the half mile down the dirt road to my house in no time at all and was pushing through the old screen door that hung precariously on my front porch, not paying any mind to the rusty screech of the hinge that would normally set my heart racing and cause my palms to sweat. The sound always reminded me that I was home, and I never really wanted to be home.
“Momma?” I sat my books on the small table near the front door and kept moving through the house. I knew my momma was probably doing dishes or was in the middle of her mid-day prayers. I walked past our small dining table and heard the slosh of sink water coming from the kitchen. Thank goodness she wasn’t in prayer. I was just about burstin’ with the need to show someone what I got for my birthday. “Momma, wait ‘til you see what Jen got me for my birthday.” I had my hand halfway out of my pocket and a huge grin on my face before I realized my dad was sitting at the small kitchen table pluckin’ the last few feathers from a freshly butchered chicken. I quickly shoved my hand back in my pocket.
“Elizabeth, it isn’t proper for you to be tearin’ through the house like a wild child. Where are your manners?” My mom wiped her hands off on the hem of her apron and placed her hands on her hips. She wore a simple white blouse—spotless of course. Her long, plain khaki skirt hit her ankles and made her look even shorter than she was. Her eyes were a deep blue, just like mine. But where mine always sparkled with mischief and a wonder for the world around me, needing to experience everything with an open heart, hers seemed shuttered and wary of everyone and everything. I glanced down at my own ankle length skirt and swallowed.
“Sorry momma. It won’t happen again,” I said softly. She sighed and turned back to the sink.
“See that it doesn’t,” she said over her shoulder.
“Yes ma’am,” I answered quickly. I sucked in a breath and turned to flee the kitchen to the sanctuary of my room when my dad’s voice stopped me short.
“Were you going to show your ma what you got for your birthday?” His voice was quiet and rough, but it still caused the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. When I turned around his eyes were still trained on his task and I fidgeted, unable to come up with an excuse to
not
to show my one and only birthday gift to my mom.
“It’s not that big of a deal.” I shrugged and glanced over at the back of my mom’s head and willed her to turn around and for once seem interested in me as a person, to just act like she was interested in the things that made me happy. But, as usual, she just kept her mouth shut and acted like she wasn’t even the room.
“If it’s not that big of a deal, then show us what you got.” My dad said tightly. He had finished pluckin’ and his hazel eyes were locked on my face. I relaxed my fist and tried to smooth my face out and unclench my jaw. I knew from experience that if my dad thought I was guilty of the sin of evil thoughts, or disrespecting my parents, or even
doubt
… well, it wouldn’t be good. My finger caressed my precious gift in my pocket and I felt tears prickle at the corners of my eyes. I took a deep breath, willing away my tears, and held my hand out for my dad to see.
My dad stood up and came over to stand in front of me. He reached his hand out. It took every ounce of restraint I had not to snatch my hand back and run for my room, but instead I stood there as my dad lifted my precious gift out of my hand with his dirty fingers. The jingle of about a dozen small charms echoed in the room. The bracelet was beautiful. It had been strung on a pretty blue silk cord and had iridescent crystal beads and tiny little silver stars dangling from it. There was also a small cross, a little guitar, a music note, and a shooting star among the charms. Jen had said both of our bracelets should have the shooting stars so we would always remember that all our wishes would come true someday.
After a few moments, my dad finally spoke. “Who gave this to you?”
“Jen,” I said softly, “my friend from school.”
“Of course you didn’t plan on keeping such a thing, right?” His voice was very low and he dangled the bracelet in front of my face. My heart was beating so fast I could hear its pounding in my ears, even feel its pulsing rhythm at my temple.
“No Sir,” I answered, just like I knew I had to.
“Why mustn’t you keep this
gift,
Elizabeth?” he asked, expectantly. My heart thudded once so hard in my chest, I thought my dad must have heard it from where he stood.
“Because the outward adorning of a woman’s body is sinful. Because the obtaining earthly possessions is ungodly. And sinfulness and ungodliness are what the devil uses to pave the road to Hell,” I recited. My dad’s mouth turned up in a smile and he tightened his fist around my present.
“That’s right. I want you to put this into a box and write a letter to your friend tonight telling her exactly why you cannot accept this gift. Tell her exactly what you told me. I’ll read the letter in the morning before you leave for school.” I nodded and reached out my hand. My dad shook his head, his eyes glinting dangerously. My hand fell to my side and I bowed my head in the submission my father was so fond of. “This will teach you an important lesson, and maybe your friend will learn a much needed lesson as well. When you are done with your homework, I expect an hour of Bible reading and I will have a verse for you about vanity to copy a hundred times after that.” My shoulders slumped and I felt a moment of defeat.
“Now kneel, Beth, so you can receive your punishment for your ungodly desire to obtain earthly possessions.” My knees hit the floor without hesitation and I held out both of my arms with the palms up. I’d learned long ago that to fight or to hesitate in kneeling under my dad’s orders would result not only in sore palms, but also in in sore thighs. I was smart enough to take the lesser of the two punishments. The
crack
of the yardstick striking my palms drowned out everything around me and banished all my thoughts … all my thoughts but one. My father wanted me to learn a lesson.
I did learn a lesson that day … just not the one my dad had intended. Something happened. Something I wasn’t expecting happened, something shifted and changed deep within me as I stood there with what I wanted most in the world just outside of my grasp. I realized I wouldn’t always be a child, I wouldn’t always be told what to think, and what to believe. I knelt there watching the light in the kitchen glint off of the shooting star hanging from the gift that Jen had given me and instead of making a wish, I made a promise. I promised myself that exactly nine years from that day I would walk out of that house and never come back.
And that’s exactly what I did.
