Mishalariah lingered over the Ayin while Spirit sat observant in the blue velvet chair, upright, silent, and still. He watched her fingers caress the metallic rim as she stared deep into its dark reflective surface.
Finally, her soft voice broke into the silence. "Is she being punished?"
"Do you feel like you are being punished?"
Mishalariah's eyes widened. "No. I feel wonderful. If we had never moved into her mom’s attic, we wouldn't have met the children." She smiled. "I never knew how much I loved children."
"I love the children, too," Spirit said, leaning forward. "Have you heard it said, 'Train up a child in the way they should go and when they grow old, they will not depart from it.'"
"That's in Proverbs, right?"
"Do you know what it means?"
Mishalariah's brow furrowed. "Isn’t it literal? Teach children while they are young, and they won't forget it."
Spirit swiveled back and forth. "Well, yes. But how was it applied in your life—I mean hers?"
Mishalariah’s head tilted slightly to one side. "I remember when she was young, her mom took her to Vacation Bible School where an older woman…” She bit her bottom lip. “What was her name? I can't remember. Was that while I was sleeping?" She rubbed her eyes. "I must have been awake." Suddenly, her back straightened and her eyes widened. "Mrs. Curry! It was Mrs. Curry, wasn't it?"
Spirit caressed the arms of the blue velvet chair. "She was a faithful follower. She taught many children using only a felt board."
"I remember that felt board! She used it to teach us about Jesus!" Mishalariah cupped her chin in her hands. "I fell in love with him. Who wouldn't? He is awesome, you know."
Spirit laughed. "Yes. He is awesome."
"Spirit?"
"Yes, Mishalariah?"
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"Why did you encourage her?"
"What do you mean?"
"The MLM business. You know she doesn't have the temperament for it."
Spirit smiled. "And now she knows, too."
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A Speculative Memoir
In a 1989 journal entry, I poured out my dashed dreams to God. Those few precious moments became a watershed event in an unfolding narrative that began ten years before when I turned my back on God. Turning my back on God did many things, most of them sad, but foremost it made me forget who I was. But there was someone who never forgot. Someone who neve…
