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Rosie's Story. Episode Three. Free Coffee Break Read

 

Photo: Sandy Millar. Unsplash



Rosie's Story. Episode Three



"Goodnight, goodnight." The greeting rang cheerily through the house as Rosie pulled her pink blanket up under her chin. Her orange and white cat, Minnie, turned around several times before settling down alongside Rosie. Her purrs grew louder and more content as Rosie stroked her. Unlike her owner, she fell asleep with ease: Rosie's mind kept going back to the stupid thing she'd done earlier. In a fit of jealousy and rage, she'd knocked Cherry's angel figurine off of the bedside table. She had one of her own, but it was smaller, and not her favourite colour. If only Mom had thought to give her the pink one. Why did Cherry have to get the nicer one just because she was older? Cherry had cried of course, and she'd received lots of attention and hugs, while Dad quickly glued the angel back together. She, on the other hand, had been sent sternly to her room and had had to go without pudding. "You need to think about your bad ways and jealous streak." Dad's voice had sounded grim. Disapointed. 

As she lay in the dark, a few remorseful tears fell onto her pillow. Rosie was sorry. She didn't want to be bad, but it just happened.

***

"Child, how have you sinned?" The priest's voice was kind, but Rosie squirmed behind the screened window. Then resolutely, she looked down at the paper in her hand and quietly read the list out loud. The priest had to ask her to speak up. At one point, Rosie thought she heard him stifle a chuckle. "Go and say your penance, child. You are forgiven and may attend Communion on Sunday."

The eight year old meekly did as she was told. She knelt in front of the nearest pew, rosary in hand and recited the words she'd memorized at school. An old woman smiled at her when she got up to leave, and Rosie felt a bit better. Surely now, she would become a good child. More like Cherry.

It didn't take long for the feeling of forgiveness to wear off though, and when she snatched a piece of her mother's chocolate on Sunday, she groaned. Now I have to start a new list of sins for my next confession.


***

Copyright: Alison Lawrence

***

To be continued...







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