Something most needful – Part two

Beta reader: Efosa Emonbeifo

Editor: Elect Alenkhe

Claire was someone who liked to believe she was prepared for anything – she always made sure to double check whatever she did, did things way in advance, and always had a backup plan. She was the symbol of 'always ready'.

So, it was quite a shock, when she found Mrs. O'Marley on her doorstep by 9am that cold Saturday morning, apologising for turning up without a prior notice and requesting for permission to come in. Pleasantly surprised though a bit anxious, she invited her in, directing her to a comfy couch in the sitting room while she went ahead to get her tea after asking her what beverage she would prefer.

She couldn't keep herself from wondering what had brought the doctor to her house and in such a hurry. She was sure the woman was usually courteous enough to ask for a good day to visit – the other times she had visited, though few, had always come with a request for an appropriate date and time before she did so. Letting the rich contents of the tea bag seep into the pristine, white mug filled with hot water, while she thought, she waited a while before bringing out the tea bag and disposing it in the trash bin. She'd always found it unsightly taking a mug of tea to someone with the tea bag still in it.

Taking the tea to the sitting room, she set it on a tiny table before the older woman before settling into her own chair. Everyone else was closeted in their rooms, so she was sure they could talk there freely.

The older woman murmured her thanks, reaching out to the mug and holding it between her hands but not drinking it yet probably in a bid to warm them a bit or to give the beverage time to cool off a little. Her eyes were fixed on the mug for a while, just staring at it and its content. Claire couldn't tell if she was admiring the China or searching to make sure it was perfectly clean – one never knew with doctors or scientists.

"You have a wonderful taste in China. This is of very fine quality," she finally said.

Claire felt her face glow with pride. She'd always prided herself in being able to get quality things regardless of their cost, and she was glad Mrs. O'Marley appreciated that. Many people really couldn't tell the difference these days, was the thought that flowed through her mind before the older woman continued.

"I know it must have been a bit strange seeing me on your porch this early dear, but I had a message for you that needed my immediate delivery and your keen attention," she said, pausing to take a sip of her tea.

Claire was very curious. Who had this message come from and why? Other than church(which hadn't been physically ongoing for a while) they really didn't walk within the same social circles.

"The message is actually from God and for the fact that He sent it at all and through someone a bit distant as me, it must be important," she continued, very solemnly.

Claire's brain had a pause at that. God? I mean, sure she was aware God spoke to people, even at times through others, but she couldn't get why He'd need to speak to her and through someone else no less. There was no problem as far as she was concerned. Her family, though a bit annoying, was great – they were very comfortable and had all they needed. In fact, her devotion times were usually spent in thanks and in praying for other less fortunate than themselves.

Adjusting on her seat, Mrs. O'Marley tried to begin. She was mentally calling out to the Lord to help her pass the message across with His wisdom and love.

"Claire, my dear," she coughed a bit – trying to clear her throat or buy a bit of time to arrange her thoughts? She wasn't so sure which of it, it was. "Parenting truly is hard work. And for most families, well, mothers seem to bear the brunt of it. I experienced a fair share of it personally, having had to raise my four children single-handedly while my husband was away at the Navy, and only came home occasionally." she looked into her eyes then, trying to gauge her reaction to see if she had caught her attention. Finding reassurance in her partner's intent gaze, she forged ahead. "You see, God showed us a pattern of parenting by showering us with love, care, attention and even the occasional chastisement." Claire nodded at this. She was a firm believer in the 'act of chastising'. "And as His children, he expects us to do same to the children He has committed unto our hands." At that point, the woman stopped and sighed lightly, her brow slightly furrowed. It seemed she was unsure how to continue.

Claire nodded, seeing the older woman's discomfort. She knew where this was going, clearly. Mrs O'Marley understood! God had finally sent someone to her to commiserate with her! God saw all the trouble she'd been going through for people who didn't show enough appreciation for her, and He wanted her to know He felt for her. She felt justified now – vindictively pleased, if she did say so herself. Deciding to reply, and from her own perspective, save the woman a bit of discomfort(though she couldn't help but wonder why Mrs. O'Marley would have thought a message of comfort of all things would be unpleasant for her), Claire replied enthusiastically.

"I really agree with you wholeheartedly, Mrs. O'Marley. Parenting really isn't easy. You see, it's been so hard for me truly. For years, I've had to juggle work, household chores and other duties," she said, gesticulating with her hands in different directions. "My children and husband just don't understand. They don't assist me at all, and I have to do it all myself. It would be nice if I even got the respect I deserved from them at least, but no, I don't get even that. My daughter Tanya is so different from the little girl I once knew. She used to adore me when she was younger, but now she doesn't. I can't remember when last she said she loved me. Hell, I barely see her these days!" she stopped and blushed a little, realising just then that she'd been pouring a lot of stuff out to a woman who hadn't even finished saying the reason for which she'd come and that she'd just used a less than proper word in front of her. She wondered, a bit aghast, what the older woman thought of her now.

Mrs. O'Marley smiled at her. It was a warm and knowing smile. Her eyes were filled with so much understanding and care that Claire felt intense relief as tears prickled at the back of her eyes. What was wrong with her this morning? she wondered. She couldn't believe she was about to break down in front of a woman she could count the number of times they'd interacted one-on-one on both fingers. Normal people just didn't do that! she thought, panicking slightly.

"It's just so hard, you know?" Good God! she internally screamed, again – she was beginning to blubber and she couldn't seem to get a grip on herself anymore. "All the time, I can't help but wonder what's going on, why my kids are this way–nothing like what I envisioned they'd be- and why my husband acts the way he does. I mean, why can't they just seem to realise what I'm doing for them out of the goodness of my heart and help me relieve a bit of pressure? I'm sure if I was compared to most mothers, I'd be among the good ones at least. I don't physically abuse my kids. I make sure they have plenty to eat. I assist in doing all the house chores when I'm not doing them all myself. From when they were younger, I've always made sure to get them whatever caught their fancy. I work hard so they never have to live as uncomfortably as I did, and still, it's been less than I hope every single time!" She was very upset now, her chest heaving in bitterness and deep-seated anger, as she tried very hard to rein in her emotions – abruptly putting her wildly gesticulating hands down and pinning one under the other, upon her thighs. She was looking down now, a bit ashamed to look at the older woman in the face, still wondering when her cool facade had dropped.

Mrs. O'Marley dropped one of her hands from the mug and held Claire's hands with it then. Her clear warm eyes – showing little hints of crow-feet-like lines at both edges – resolute as she addressed her. She spoke then, her words clear, yet slow and calm.

"Claire, I really hope you're able to handle what I'm about to say. You might feel a bit hurt at first, but if you can sincerely accept this, you'd notice a change for sure." Claire nodded glumly and then she continued, looking up at the ceiling before bringing her head down to eye-level as she spoke.

"Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it." – Proverbs 22:6

"I had also faced something similar when I was raising my children alone back then. I was always bitter – at my kids for not being better behaved, at my husband for leaving me with all the work, even a bit at God for giving me such stubborn kids." She chuckled a bit at her last statement.

"About twenty-five years ago, when I'd had my last girl Charlotte, I was reading through my Bible. Things hadn't changed much truly and my twins – the boys, I'm sure you know them — were about to enter middle school." She had to pause and clear the air with Claire who had already been staring at her and was now gaping, obviously trying to calculate just how old she truly was.

"I know, I know. I'm just fifty-five and my boys were entering middle school when I was thirty. Well, let's just say I married pretty early. Also, though we're at most ten years apart, I'll have you know a whole lot can happen within ten years – one major thing being a better awareness of child spacing." Claire laughed a bit at that before letting her continue.

"Anyways, things were still as bad and my boys were running wild, for lack of a better term. They generated a lot of stress for me and I was beginning to resent them. I always had a small bottle of aspirin on the drawer beside my bed cos I had to take it often. So one day, on a day that truly looked and felt as normal as any other, – though it would truth out to be one of the most significant days in my life as a parent – I was going through my Bible and came across a portion in it. It was the part in John chapter 14 that talked about how Herodias' daughter danced and asked her Father for John's head as a gift, on the prompting of her mother, after he had promised to give her anything she wanted. As usual, I was repulsed by Herodias' cruelty and how horrible she must have been, using her child as a pawn to carry out her crafty deeds. But as I was about to turn the pages of the Bible, something struck me real hard. It's clear Herodias was a wicked queen, but how on earth had she raised her daughter that the young lady would pass up such an opportunity to be gifted by her new father with whatever she wanted, and still go to her mother first? How had she brought up the child? What sort of place did she have in her daughter's heart that the young lady would not only ask her opinion but agree to such a gory request? Just what sort of influence did her mother have over her?" She took a sip of her tea again. Claire had even forgotten the beverage was still there. She too was transfixed by this new insight.

"My heart was so troubled by it that I couldn't sleep. I mean, imagine having to get parenting advice from the life of arguably one of the worst women the Bible had to offer. It was a bit heartbreaking truly. But you see, I was so touched that I spent that night talking to God. Yes, it was true that my twin boys were a menace at that age, but could it be that my parenting had played a part in it? And if so, how? To the best of my knowledge, I'd done all I knew to do. But I knew something was missing and so I begged the Lord to help me see if they were the only ones at fault, or if I'd failed at some point. As I prayed a scripture came to my heart, as clear as day on that dark, dark night. It was Proverbs 22:6 saying to me, "Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it." and it would become my mantra for the rest of my parenting journey." She dropped the now empty mug and continued, still holding on to Claire's hand, placing the now free one on top of hers and looking her straight in the eye.

"Claire, God has gifted us his children. He has placed them in our care and He expects us to care for them and bring them up responsibly in every way. Most times, we miss it in this regard. We prepare so much for other things, our exams, our projects at work, our weddings and even the arrival of the kids – We buy baby clothes, baby foods, decorate the new room for him or her, we do so much, and yet fail at where it matters most – bringing them up in the way of the Lord by catering to not just their physical and educational needs but to their spiritual and emotional as well. I had failed in that aspect – woefully too. I was always so engrossed in providing for my children financially that I couldn't realise they were withering emotionally and spiritually before my very eyes. I always had my morning devotions, but that was always before they woke up so they only ever met me carrying out chores when they were up and I didn't have time to pray with them or teach them to pray either. I felt the Sunday school did that just fine." She sighed at that, eyes turning nostalgic as she spoke.

"I remember all these hitting me with the impact of a sledgehammer. I imagined a life where I'd be so busy I'd miss out on the basic things about my children's lives. A life where I'd miss out on their golden years — those tender years where they could be most influenced. I imagined not knowing what boy my youngest daughter had a crush on, or not being able to advise my sons because they never came to me. I imagined my children not realising that their mother could intercede for them because they never saw me do it, or never being able to talk to God on their own. I thought of a life where I wouldn't even know their pet-peeves or interests because I was too busy 'caring' for them. It was at that point, I knew there had to be a change somewhere. If it couldn't start with my children first, then it'd start with me. So that night, I asked God for mercy and for His help to set things right, because I really wasn't sure where to start from."

Mrs. O'Marley stopped then to look at Claire. She'd been so caught up in her memories she'd almost forgotten about her audience. It was clear things were beginning to dawn on her though. She was so still now, so silent, but the struggle on her face was clear. She saw emotions fight for dominance on her features – first anger, then realisation, swiftly followed by a heart wrenching despair. She was finally realizing a truth about being a parent – and it was breaking her heart.

It was clear just how much the words had impacted her, because her next words were so low and filled with heartbreak, it was almost a whisper.

"But Mrs. O'Marley... I've failed. Oh, I've failed," she repeated, eyes wide, horror registering on her features. "Tom is already twenty and Tanya... Oh God, Tanya... Where on earth do I begin again? I don't even know what her hobbies are. I don't know what she likes or what she doesn't like, Mrs. O'Marley. I don't even know what goes on through that mind of hers. I've failed..." her voice broke at the end as she began sobbing quietly again.

"All I ever wanted was to make sure their lives were good. But it turns out, I'd been going about it the wrong way all along. I wonder what my children even think of me," she said to her, no longer trying to conceal the tears now streaming down her face.

Mrs. O'Marley came over to her to comfort her, sitting closely besides her. The younger woman placed her head on her shoulder wearily and cried – tears of frustration and hurt, of knowing you'd been trying so hard yet not making much progress. She cried for all the lost years and all the hours she'd spent being conspicuously grouchy to her children and husband. Claire couldn't help but remember then all the times Tanya had shouted at her and called her 'uncaring' or had accused her of being more attached to her work and siblings than she was them. She had always been angrily confused and screamed back that all she did was for the girl's ungrateful self, but now she understood, and now it was too late. She cried harder now, leaning fully into Mrs. O'Marley – anguish tearing at her insides as she choked out sobs.

Mrs O'Marley patted her head comfortingly, silently praying to God for the restoration of lost years and for wisdom for the younger woman leaning on her at that moment. She could relate with her pain and knew how amplified it must be with her seeing how grown her children were. Trusting the Lord for comfort, she ploughed on.

"Claire, my dear, you must stop crying now. Don't be so despaired. You haven't failed. From what you've said before, you have been a good mum. Sure, this aspect of parenting had been lacking but if God didn't see a chance at redeeming this, He wouldn't have sent me to come see you. The fact that He did so, shows there's still much hope. One thing I did that night was to pray and ask for help from Him to set things right with my kids, the next day I proceeded to get books on parenting. It wasn't so easy back then as people hadn't seen the need for it, so I had few books but I also made it a point of duty to meet those who had families I envied regardless of how I'd once felt about them. I was determined to be a better parent and God granted the desires of my heart. Whenever I see my children today, I thank God always for the miracle He worked on that cold night and in the years after. He can do the same for you, even better! He will do the same for you," she said vehemently, bringing out a handkerchief from her purse. She was glad she'd followed the nudging to bring one along. Daddy-God was never wrong.

The younger woman calmed a bit at that, accepting the handkerchief to dab delicately at her tears, before giving up the attempt and just wiping furiously, blowing her nose afterwards. Feeling her face go hot with embarrassment at how she'd fallen apart, she turned to the older woman. Her heart daring to hope as she replied her.

"So, you're sure things can still change? You're sure my children and I can still work things out? I mean, I still think Tom is pretty slow and my baby girl can really get on my nerves at times..." She was babbling again, voice laced with uncertainty and trying not to look too hopeful.

Mrs. O'Marley couldn't help but inwardly smile at how childlike Claire now looked. She resembled a forlorn child that had lost her parents but was now being told they could be found. Her eyes were so revealing — hope was trying to surface while despair and fear fought to smother it. Reassure her heart, Lord, she inwardly prayed.

"Yes Claire. I'm sure. And as God will have it, I'll be here to help if you need me. I promise."

It was like those words were the turning on of a light bulb within Claire's heart. She felt hope surge strongly within, drowning the despair and fear she'd felt just moments ago. Real joy started to fill her insides, something she had not experienced in a long while. The Lord was merciful to her, she thought. And she would make good use of His mercy and grace. It would take time, but she would do the needful – she would learn to reach out to her children again and become their friend. She believed that God would help her share her faith with them and gain a place in their hearts and lives, not just as their 'figurehead' mother but as their loving mother – a woman who they'd see cared. A woman they'd be able to remember and thank Him for with joy in their hearts whenever they prayed to Him. She had realised now what was most needful as a parent: training a child up the best way – God's way!

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Author's note: Hello everyone. I really believe what the Father wanted passed across has been done through this short story. It is His will that even as parents we do not miss out on what is most important in bringing up our children. There is grace for everyone of us. We are loved and greatly cared for.