April-June, 2015
“Oh, no!” cried Griselda. “Someone splattered ugly paint all over my pretty pink house! Who would do such a horrible thing?”
Then she thought for a minute. “Aha! I know who did it!” she said to herself. “It must have been Meg, that new girl down the street. She’s always frowning, and she’s probably jealous because she wasn’t invited to my tea party! Well, I’ll fix her!”
Remembering that someone had given her a piece of chewing gum, Griselda ran to try to find it.
“I’ll fix her for sure. Tomorrow is a big event at the school. I’ll chew up that gum to make it really sticky and nasty and then put it in her chair for her to sit on. Then she’ll sit in it and ruin her nice dress and get really upset. But it will serve her right for messing up my playhouse!”
As Griselda began to fumble through the kitchen drawer for the little piece of gum, suddenly her older sister Amy appeared.
“What’s up, Griselda? You’re up bright and early this morning. What are you looking for?” asked Amy.
“Oh, dear,” thought Griselda. . . . “Amy is always so nice to everybody. She won’t approve of my plan, for sure. But I’ll go ahead and tell her about it, because certainly she’ll be sympathetic for me in my tea party disaster.”
“Amy, I’m looking for that piece of chewing gum to make mean old Meg sit in it to pay her back for messing up my playhouse. Just look outside!” Griselda declared.
Amy went outside and slowly returned with sorrow.
“What makes you think that Meg did that, Griselda?”
“I’m sure she did. It looks like she gets really mad whenever she’s not invited to something. She’s new in the neighborhood, and I don’t know why she seems to think she belongs in our exclusive club of fancy, pinkie girls!”
Amy was quiet for a moment. Then suddenly she said, “Grissy, I have an idea. It’s a lot better than that old, tired chewing gum trick. You can pay her back even worse.”
Griselda was shocked. Usually Amy was always trying to make her be good, but now she was actually coming up with a mischievous idea. . . .
Amy continued, “Why don’t you heap coals of fire on her head?”
“Wait a minute!” Griselda cried. “That would be really bad. I could get in big trouble. But you know—Meg has such thick, naturally curly hair that probably it wouldn’t hurt much, but it surely would teach her a lesson!”
“ ‘If thine enemy be hungry, give him bread to eat; and if he be thirsty, give him water to drink: for thou shalt heap coals of fire upon his head, and the Lord shall reward thee’ (Proverbs 25:21, 22). I think that’s the best kind of punishment Meg could have,” said Amy in a serious tone of voice.
“I doubt it,” Griselda mumbled. “I don’t think it will help much at all. And it won’t restore my beautiful playhouse!”
“Grissy—let’s give it a try. You’ve got nothing to lose. Many times I’ve seen how this works. These ‘coals of fire’ can melt away all kinds of cold, ugly, bitter feelings. You’ve got a lot of dolls upstairs. Why don’t you offer to lend one of those dolls to Meg?”
Griselda was sad. Not only was her tea party ruined, but now her sister was expecting her to do something totally impossible. . . . Life seemed very hard indeed.
As she strolled onto the front porch to mope in her misery, suddenly Griselda saw someone walking down the road toward the house. Of all people, it was Meg!
Just as Griselda’s fury was starting to rise, something inside her heart told her to go ahead and try Amy’s idea.
“Meg,” she called. “Can you come here for a minute, please?”
Meg hesitated for a second and bowed her head as if she wanted to hide. Then she looked around with a blank face as if she wanted to pretend she didn’t hear anyone calling.
Griselda ran out to meet her. Suddenly the words poured out more easily than expected:
“Meg, I know that a lot of your belongings have not arrived yet after your move to our town. Would you like to borrow a doll from me so you have something to play with?”
“What?” exclaimed Meg in surprise.
“I’d like to lend you a doll or two.”
Meg’s jaw suddenly dropped and her face turned pale.
“Is—is that all you—you want to ask me?” Meg stammered.
“Yes, hold on a minute, and I’ll run inside right now to see what I can find for you.”
“Wait, Griselda. There’s something I need to tell you. . . . I can’t believe that you want to do something so nice for me. I don’t deserve it. I came here to tell you sorry, because I did something very bad. . . . I tried to surprise you by trying to paint your playhouse with some pretty polka-dots . . . and I thought that would make you really happy. . . . But somehow the wet paint was too watery and dribbled everywhere, so it did not turn out very well. Then I tried to fix it and it all smeared. I feel so sorry. . . . I thought that if I had been able to do an amazing job in making your playhouse really special that you might start to like me.”
Griselda stood quietly for a few seconds, her brow furrowed in thought. Then she exclaimed, “Meg, are you telling me that you did this in order to try to do something NICE for me rather than mean?”
“Yes, because the Bible says that ‘a man that hath friends must shew himself friendly’ (Proverbs 18:24). I’m new here and it’s so lonely not having any friends. I had plenty of friends in my old town. But somehow it’s different here. But that’s no excuse for me to have messed up your playhouse.”
Suddenly, Griselda saw things in a different light. “Meg, I have a great idea. It’s early in the day. We still have time to repaint the house and completely cover those strange-looking 'polka-dots.' I’ve got two brushes and some violet paint that I was originally thinking to use instead of the pink. Will you help me?”
Meg’s face brightened with a huge smile as she exclaimed, “Of course!” She was so happy that tears came to her eyes.
“It’s amazing,” thought Griselda, “how those ‘coals of fire’ can make people cry—but with happiness instead of sadness. This is great—I’m going to remember it!”