Mary was basically a good girl, but she did not like her parents!
Her parents were always fighting about stupid stuff, like “Why did you pay $1.98 for that can of beans? You could of bought peas for only $1.78!” or, “Why do you have to just sit there and watch hockey?”
It wasn’t a very happy time for Mary.
So… Mary dishonoured he parents in everyway she could imagine. She told lies about them abusing her, she told about their infidelities (of which they had none), she even told them to their faces that she did not love them and she couldn’t take the arguing, but they would not listen.
So… Mary continued to dishonour them.
Then, one day, Social Services and Child Protection came and took Mary away from her apparently abusive home, and they took her to a “shelter”. Mary was scared and she told them that she had lied and she just wanted to go home, but they didn’t believe her.
“Now Mary we know that your parents were beyond respect, you don’t have to protect them,” they said.
“No, No. That’s not true,” she insisted.
Mary was sent to a foster home anyways. The foster home was worse than you could imagine! Mary had to get up at six every morning and COOK BREAKFAST! Then she had to do the DISHES, and the LAUNDRY, and the DUSTING and POLISHING. It was like she had become a slave. Mary mourned her loss and wished fervently that she could go back and honour her mother and her father but, alas, that chance had passed.
As the years went by, and Mary grew, she knew more and more what she had lost.
One day she decided that she had had enough of being a mere servant, and so she gathered her meagre belongings into a handkerchief and ran away.
I will not dwell on her journey, I will only tell you she arrived HOME! She stood and stared at her old home, took a deep breath and walked up to the door. She timidly knocked, hoping her parents still lived there (there had been no contact for years) the door opened and there was her mother. She had aged over the passing years but Mary remembered her.
She stared in her mother’s eyes and fell to her knees. How could she have not honoured the woman who gave birth to her? How could she not have honour for one who wiped her tears away? With weeping eyes she begged forgiveness. Then her father came to the door and she wept even harder, this was the man who gave her life, this was the man who never treated her badly through all her lies. This was the man who wept before HER!
Never again would she dishonor them, never again would she become a servant/slave. Mary had learned to honour her father and her mother.
Lisa McKenna has been living in the Yukon for 17 years. She’s been writing since she was a kid, and that’s why she likes writing for kids!
Lisa McKenna has been living in the Yukon for 17 years. She’s been writing since she was a kid, and that’s why she likes writing for kids!
