Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone. Colossians 4:6
“And the turtles, of course …all the turtles are free as turtles and, maybe, all creatures should be.”
Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone. Colossians 4:6
I Once Killed my Brother Jay
I once killed my little brother Jay in cold blood. I thought about it ahead of time.
I planned it out. I knew exactly how I would do it, when I would do it, and where I
would it. I even planned on using the perfect weapon, one that could not be traced or found.
I remember the day. It was early Spring, the birds were singing, the sun was out,
and Jay was playing in the back yard all alone. I looked all around to see if anyone was around, and then I pretended to want to play with Jay. He was laughing when I struck. I still remember the shock in his eyes. My perfect weapon easily flew by his outstretched arms and hit the target – his heart. He didn’t die instantly, Oh no! I wanted him to suffer. He started to tear up, then his little body started to shake, and finally from deep within he let out a blood curdling cry! It startled me. I wasn’t expecting that. His eyes rolled up into his head and I could tell my perfectly placed, well-planned and untraceable weapon had done its dirty deed. Jay was dead. Sure he was still standing, but I could see in his eyes that I had killed him. I let out a laugh, but I wasn’t nearly as happy as I thought I would be. In fact, I was feeling a little guilty for what I had done. I ran quickly away and tried to play with some of my friends, but all I could think about was the shock on my little brother’s face.
At dinner that night our family sat down to eat, Mom and Dad, Bill and I, and to my horror there sat… Jay. But it wasn’t Jay. Jay was dead. No one seemed to notice that this wasn’t the real Jay. Sure, it looked like Jay, and talked like Jay, and even acted like it disliked peas like Jay. But Jay was dead. I’d killed him.
All of sudden all my plans of killing Jay, the perfect weapon cutting into his heart, my laughter after killing him flooded into my heart. I almost started to cry. Mom noticed that something was wrong. “Rodger, are you o.k.?” she asked.
I somehow managed to say, “I’m not feeling very well. Can I please be excused?” And I left the table, but not before I saw Jay – I mean this thing that looked like Jay – roll its eyes up into its head and laugh. I was so shocked, and yet no one else seemed to notice.
I ran into my room and buried my face into my pillow. “Why? Why? Why?” I cried and tried to forget everything that happened. Why did I plan it? Why did I do it? Why, why, why did I kill Jay. It was so stupid. But wait, nobody knows. But I know! And worse yet, it – the dead Jay – knows! Why? Why? Why did I kill Jay?
Over and over and over that evening I tossed and turned on my bed rewinding the murder over and over again wishing I could take it all back. Wishing it had never happened. I tried to read my favorite book, Yertle the Turtle to forget what I had done, but it didn’t work. I tried counting sheep. I tried thinking of something else, but it was no use. I tried everything to erase the events of day, but nothing worked. All I could see was Jay – his eyes rolled up in his head laughing at me. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t read. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t play.
I was so afraid “it” would tell on me. What would happen to me. I didn’t dare think about it. I was hopelessly miserable, and it was only 7 pm, a whole hour before my bedtime.
I was so, so, so, sorry for what I had done, but I didn’t know how to stop feeling so awful. Nothing I did could get rid of how terrible I felt. I had to be the most miserable little boy on the whole face of the earth.
I Once Killed my Brother Jay
I once killed my little brother Jay in cold blood. I thought about it ahead of time.
I planned it out. I knew exactly how I would do it, when I would do it, and where I
would it. I even planned on using the perfect weapon, one that could not be traced or found.
I remember the day. It was early Spring, the birds were singing, the sun was out,
and Jay was playing in the back yard all alone. I looked all around to see if anyone was around, and then I pretended to want to play with Jay. He was laughing when I struck. I still remember the shock in his eyes. My perfect weapon easily flew by his outstretched arms and hit the target – his heart. He didn’t die instantly, Oh no! I wanted him to suffer. He started to tear up, then his little body started to shake, and finally from deep within he let out a blood curdling cry! It startled me. I wasn’t expecting that. His eyes rolled up into his head and I could tell my perfectly placed, well-planned and untraceable weapon had done its dirty deed. Jay was dead. Sure he was still standing, but I could see in his eyes that I had killed him. I let out a laugh, but I wasn’t nearly as happy as I thought I would be. In fact, I was feeling a little guilty for what I had done. I ran quickly away and tried to play with some of my friends, but all I could think about was the shock on my little brother’s face.
At dinner that night our family sat down to eat, Mom and Dad, Bill and I, and to my horror there sat… Jay. But it wasn’t Jay. Jay was dead. No one seemed to notice that this wasn’t the real Jay. Sure, it looked like Jay, and talked like Jay, and even acted like it disliked peas like Jay. But Jay was dead. I’d killed him.
All of sudden all my plans of killing Jay, the perfect weapon cutting into his heart, my laughter after killing him flooded into my heart. I almost started to cry. Mom noticed that something was wrong. “Rodger, are you o.k.?” she asked.
I somehow managed to say, “I’m not feeling very well. Can I please be excused?” And I left the table, but not before I saw Jay – I mean this thing that looked like Jay – roll its eyes up into its head and laugh. I was so shocked, and yet no one else seemed to notice.
I ran into my room and buried my face into my pillow. “Why? Why? Why?” I cried and tried to forget everything that happened. Why did I plan it? Why did I do it? Why, why, why did I kill Jay. It was so stupid. But wait, nobody knows. But I know! And worse yet, it – the dead Jay – knows! Why? Why? Why did I kill Jay?
Over and over and over that evening I tossed and turned on my bed rewinding the murder over and over again wishing I could take it all back. Wishing it had never happened. I tried to read my favorite book, Yertle the Turtle to forget what I had done, but it didn’t work. I tried counting sheep. I tried thinking of something else, but it was no use. I tried everything to erase the events of day, but nothing worked. All I could see was Jay – his eyes rolled up in his head laughing at me. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t read. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t play.
I was so afraid “it” would tell on me. What would happen to me. I didn’t dare think about it. I was hopelessly miserable, and it was only 7 pm, a whole hour before my bedtime.
I was so, so, so, sorry for what I had done, but I didn’t know how to stop feeling so awful. I actually felt a physical pain in my heart. Nothing I did could get rid of how terrible I felt. I had to be the most miserable little boy on the whole face of the earth.
Did I mention that I was feeling really, really awful?
Mom knocked quietly on my door. Oh no! The “it,” the dead Jay, has spilled the beans and told Mom. She’s come to take me to jail for the rest of my life. No, it’s worse; she’s come to take me to the electric chair. Before she could say anything I blurted out that I had killed Jay. She looked at me like I was crazy. “Jay is perfectly fine, I just put him down for bed. I came in here because I was worried about you.”
“No! No! You don’t understand. That is the “it.” The real Jay is dead, I killed him today. I walked right up to him and told him, “I hate you, you little brat, I wish you were dead, and he let out a scream, and his eyes rolled back in his head and he died. I saw him die.”
“Rodger, he didn’t die. But what you said was not nice. You realize Jay is only one. He didn’t understand a word you said. He probably screamed, because you frightened him when you said those things. But you shouldn’t have said…”
I started crying, “Mom, this has been the most horrible day of my entire life. From the moment I said those terrible things to Jay I have felt awful and had this hurt in my heart I can’t get rid of. I’m so, so, so very, very, very sorry for what I did and I will never do it again. Please, please take away the pain and hurt.”
Mom started to laugh, “I can’t take the pain and guilt away.”
“You can’t,” I sniffed.
“No, only Jesus can do that. Don’t you realize that when you said those mean things to your little brother that you were also killing yourself. Whenever we sin, whenever we do something bad to someone else, well, a little bit of us dies too. That is why you have felt so awful today. Do you want to feel better?”
“Oh yes! Yes! Yes I do!”
“There is only one thing that can take away your guilt and pain. You need to tell God you are sorry for what you said, and ask for His forgiveness. Do you want to do that?”
“Oh, yes!” I said. “Jesus, I’m so sorry for saying those awful things to Jay. Please, please forgive me! Amen.”
You won’t believe what happened after I prayed that prayer. Something amazing! Jay walked into the room. He was alive! I ran over and gave him a big hug and told him that I loved him and that I would never ever say mean things to him again. The pain and awful feeling I had — disappeared! I felt like everything I had done that day was erased. I had this deep down feeling of peace. All was right with the world. I had peace with Jay. I had peace with my heart, and most importantly I had peace with my God. Mom turned off the light and I fell fast asleep.