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<\/p>\nThis was a hand-out when I did my internship for counseling at Grace Ministries.\u00a0 It had all of us crying, so I thought everyone needed a good cry for the day.\u00a0 I was sending to a friend and I thought why not post it for everyone else.<\/p>\n
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Have a blessed day and enjoy this, it will take 10 minutes to read.<\/p>\n
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The Dress<\/p>\n
Margaret Jensen from \u201cFirst We Have Coffee\u201d<\/p>\n
Mama sat rocking gently, the bright wool afghan wound around her bony knees.\u00a0 Staring out across the quiet lake below our house she sang softly to herself.\u00a0 A faraway look filled her eyes, her mind was somewhere in the \u201clong ago.\u201d\u00a0 Janice, who had come for a visit, heard her murmur, \u201cLove and forgive, Love and forgive.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBestemor, you are talking to yourself again,\u201d Jan laughed as she pulled up a stool to snuggle close to her.\u00a0 The house was quiet with the contentment that comes when those you love have returned home and are close by your side.<\/p>\n
Pressing Mama\u2019s thin, blue-veined hand against her own soft, younger cheek, Jan asked, \u201cWhat were you reading?\u201d<\/p>\n
Mama stroked the open Bible lovingly, \u201cWhen you stand praying, forgive: (Mark 11:25)<\/p>\n
\u201cBut, Bestemor, there are some things you can\u2019t forgive.\u201d<\/p>\n
I knew Jan was in for a story.<\/p>\n
Stroking Jan\u2019s soft blond hair, Bestemor rocked a little slower and added, \u201cI\u2019ll tell you a story, Janice.\u00a0 We\u2019ll call the girl Mary and the man John.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt happened a long time ago.\u201d\u00a0 I reached for my coffee cup and listened from the kitchen.\u00a0 I had heard the story a few days before, but had promised not to tell it.<\/p>\n
Bestemor\u2019s white hair framed her gentle face, and her blue eyes held that far-away look.\u00a0 Jan waited.\u00a0 These were moments she would hold in her heart forever.\u00a0 She would remember\u00a0 and tell her children.<\/p>\n
\u201cMary was young, filled with dreams of love for her husband, John, and her love for God and His service.\u00a0 John, restless and impatient in his new pastorate in the farmlands of Wisconsin, longed for the libraries and action of New York City or Chicago, where he had attended seminary.\u00a0 John\u2019s brilliant mind craved books.\u00a0 Mary saw beauty in everything\u2014the smell of the freshly plowed fields, the song of a bird, the first sign of spring, crocuses and violets.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe tied her tiny daughter to her lap while she drove the horse and buggy to the country church.\u00a0 John would ride with Deacon Olsen to gather parishioners along the way.\u00a0 Mary sang to the wind and laughed with the birds.\u00a0 But she had one secret longing, a new dress for spring.\u00a0 Not the somber brown or black, befitting a minister\u2019s wife, but a soft voile billowing dress with lace around the neck and sleeves, and a big sash.\u00a0 There was no money!\u00a0 Carefully she laid plans.\u00a0 She would put pennies into a box until there was enough money to buy a new kerosene lamp for John and material for a new dress.\u00a0 She would reuse the lace from an old velvet dress in the trunk.\u00a0 Someday she would make a blue velvet dress for baby Louise.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe day came when the treadle machine purred like music while Mary sang and sewed.\u00a0 Golden-haired Louise played with empty spools and clothes pins.\u00a0 The small house shone, clean.\u00a0 The new lamp had a place of honor on John\u2019s reading table.\u00a0 Violets filled a bowl on the starched tablecloth, and cups were placed for afternoon coffee when John would return home.<\/p>\n
\u201cIn a playful mood, Mary pulled down her long brown hair, brushed it in the morning sun.\u00a0 Then she put on her new dress, soft pink voile with violets and lace.\u00a0 A sash tied in the back and Mary swung around to the delightful squeals of Louise.\u00a0 It was spring!\u00a0 She was young, just twenty-three, with another new life within her and Louise to rock and love.\u00a0 The wilderness church, the somber immigrants tilling the land, and the severe harshness of long winters had isolated the young wife into her world of poetry and song.\u00a0 She grew to love the faithful people and share their joys and sorrows.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut today was spring and she danced with abandoned joy in her new billowing dress.<\/p>\n
\u201cWith a flash of summer lightning, Mary was whirled around by an angry John, whose storm of frustration unleashed the fury within him.\u00a0 \u201cMoney for foolishness! No libraries, no books, no one to talk to about anything except cows and chickens, planting and harvest.\u2019 Like a smoldering volcano, John erupted with rage and ripped the dress to shreds.\u00a0 Just as suddenly the storm was over, and the galloping hoofs of John\u2019s horse broke the quiet terror.\u00a0 As he rode into the wind he unleashed the remainder of his fury on the passing fields and their wide-eyed cows and clucking chickens.\u00a0 He longed to gallop from Wisconsin to the heart of New York\u2014his beloved library.<\/p>\n
\u201cHuddled in a corner, Mary clutched Louise and the shredded dress.\u00a0 Trembling with fear and anger she remained motionless.\u00a0 Too drained to weep, she was sick with an emptiness and an unutterable longing for her mother in New York.\u00a0 There was no one to turn to in that lonely farmland.\u00a0 She remembered Psalm 34:4: \u2018I sought the LORD, and he heard me, and delivered me from all my fears.\u2019 Then she wept, long and deep, and cried unto the Lord.\u201d<\/p>\n
Bestemor paused.\u00a0 \u201cBe slow to cry to man, Janice, but let your cry be unto God. \u201dShe rocked slowly, then continued.<\/p>\n
\u201cMary set her heart to seek a way of escape.\u00a0 She would make a pallet up in the loft and take Louise to sleep with her.\u00a0 John would sleep alone.\u00a0 Then she folded the shredded dress in a small package and hid it in her trunk.\u00a0 Pastor Hansen was coming to visit the rural churches and Mary decided to bide her time, to quietly wait and show the dress to Pastor Hansen, then ask for assistance to leave John and return to New York.\u00a0 With quiet determination she put on her dark dress and combed her long brown hair into a severe knot, befitting a minister\u2019s wife.\u00a0 She set the table for supper.\u00a0 When John returned late in the night his supper was in the warming oven.\u00a0 Mary was asleep in the loft with Louise curled in her arms.<\/p>\n
\u201cQuietly John ate his supper and looked for Mary.\u00a0 When he found her in the loft, he ordered her back to their bed and put Louise in her crib.\u00a0 Mary gently tucked Louise in her crib and obediently went to bed.\u00a0 John\u2019s storm had passed, but he was unaware of the debris in its wake.<\/p>\n
\u201cLife went on as usual, but the song was gone and Mary\u2019s steps were weighted with bitterness.\u00a0 She quietly waited and thought out her plans.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe arrival of Pastor Hansen brought a new exuberance to John as the two ministers discussed books and theology and the work of the church conference.\u00a0 Mary served quietly.\u00a0 No one would have guessed the anguish behind her gently face as she worshipped with the faithful congregation but she heard little of the sermons.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe final service was drawing to a close and, as yet, Mary had not had the opportunity to see Pastor Hansen alone.\u00a0 She had to find the opening, perhaps this Sunday afternoon, when John would visit a shut-in member while Pastor Hansen would meditate on the evening message.\u00a0 With a quickened mind she decided to listen to the sermon and perhaps use his comments as an opening.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe text this morning is found in Mark 11:25: “When ye stand praying, forgive.\u201d Forgiveness is not optional, but a command.\u00a0 Forgiveness is not a feeling, but an act of faith, a definite act of the will to forgive, in obedience to God\u2019s command.\u00a0 The feeling comes later, the feeling of peace.\u00a0 When we offer to God our hurts and despair, God will pour his love and compassion into the wounds and His healing will come.\u2019<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, no,\u2019 Mary cried inside. \u201cI can\u2019t forgive, and I can never forget!\u2019<\/p>\n
\u201cThe sermon continued. \u201cSomeone may be thinking, \u201cI can never forget, even if I could forgive.\u201d You are right, you can\u2019t forget, but you needn\u2019t be devastated by remembering.\u00a0 God\u2019s love and His forgiveness can and will cushion the memory until the imprint is gone.\u00a0 When you forgive, you must destroy the evidence, and remember only to love. \u201cFor God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.\u201d\u00a0 In closing let us stand and say the Lord\u2019s prayer.\u00a0 \u201cForgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cJohn and Pastor Hansen rode home with Deacon Olsen.\u00a0 Mary stepped into her buggy, tied her wide black hat with a scarf, and carefully secured Louise around her waist.\u00a0 As the horse, Dolly trotted briskly down the country road, Mary\u2019s scalding tears poured forth.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe knew what she must do.\u00a0 She would obey God.\u00a0 Without waiting to unhitch Dolly, she fled from the buggy and placed sleeping Louise in her crib.\u00a0 With trembling hands, she took out of the trunk the package with the torn dress, but she couldn\u2019t let go.\u00a0 The Sunday dinner was in the warming oven; Mary poked the fire and added more wood.\u00a0 Automatically she put on the coffee pot and set the table.\u00a0 \u2018The evidence must go\u2019 rang in her memory.\u00a0 \u2018I forgive you, John\u2019. She finally picked up the tattered dress with one hand and the stove lid with the other.\u00a0 Tears splashed on the fire and the dress burned slowly.<\/p>\n
\u201cTrue forgiveness destroys the evidence\u2019 pounded so loudly in her heart that she failed to hear John\u2019s footsteps. \u2018Mary what are you doing?\u2019 Trembling with sobs, she said, \u2018I am destroying the evidence.\u2019<\/p>\n
\u201cTo herself she said, \u201cMy offering to God.\u2019<\/p>\n
\u201cThen John remembered! Pale and shaken he murmured, \u2018Please forgive me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Bestemor rocked quietly.<\/p>\n
\u201cPlease Grandmother, what happened?\u201d\u00a0 Jan begged.\u00a0 Bestemor waited.\u00a0 Her eyes followed the ducks on the lake, but her heart was somewhere else.\u00a0 Softly she continued:<\/p>\n
\u201cNow John has gone home.\u00a0 Fifty-eight years together, and I miss him.\u201d<\/p>\n
Wide-eyed with understanding, Jan wrapped her arms around her beloved Bestemor!\u00a0 \u201cThat was you and Grandfather!\u201d\u00a0 The chair rocked slowly in the quiet room as Bestemor\u2019s loving hand stroked the bowed head.<\/p>\n
I slipped quietly down the path of fallen leaves to the lake to feed the ducks.\u00a0 The four white pet geese honked majestically across the lake as I drank deeply of the cool autumn breeze and felt the burden of old hurts slowly ebbing away.\u00a0 God\u2019s cushioning love heals old scars.<\/p>\n
P.S<\/strong>. A few days later Mama had a dream.\u00a0 Three angels appeared to her and said, \u201cCome, we are going to a celebration.\u201d\u00a0 Over the arm of one angel was draped a beautiful dress.<\/p>\n This was a hand-out when I did my internship for counseling at Grace Ministries.\u00a0 It had all of us crying, so I thought everyone needed a good cry for the day.\u00a0 I was sending to a friend and I thought why not post it for everyone else. Have a blessed day and enjoy this, it will take 10 minutes to read. The Dress Margaret Jensen from \u201cFirst We Have Coffee\u201d Mama sat rocking gently, the bright wool afghan wound…<\/p>\n
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