This is a story of two brothers not in the Bible, not Cain who was angry with Abel over his offering and slew him, not Esau who might have done the same to Jacob save for their mother’s intervention (after her part in the division), but of two little boys in the current millenia, carrying school breakfast trays, as the older begins shouting at the younger and a teacher steps in.
What’s the matter? Why are you shouting at him? The rest of us do not appreciate hearing those kinds of words, says the teacher.
The smaller boy stops in front of the teacher. His bright face is utterly untroubled. It’s okay. You see, I am his brother.
The teacher pauses. You are used to this.
The bigger brother turns back, face like a thundercloud, voice blasting: And I dropped my freakin’ biscuit!
You can get another one, begins the teacher, when the younger boy takes off running, calling his brother’s name. The teacher follows in case intercession is needed.
Here, says the little one. You can have my biscuit.
The teacher blinks back tears. You don’t want your biscuit?
The little boy shakes his head. He places the proffered bread on his brother’s tray.
The older brother’s face eases. Anger abates; tentative calm settles in.
Thank you, he says, his voice low.
You owe your brother an apology, says the teacher, after the way you have just been shouting at him.
I’m sorry, he says. He turns away, but not before the teacher sees deep sadness in his eyes.
Wait! calls his little brother. You can have my jelly, too. You like jelly on your biscuit.
The teacher bends down to whisper in his ear: That is a beautiful thing you just did.
The brothers go off together in peace. The teacher watches, awed and humbled. The morning is still new, the day has only just begun, an unholy moment has been transfomed by a child’s purehearted act of sacrifical love, in his offering of bread and grape jelly.
The teacher thinks: If the world ended right now, I’d die having witnessed one of life’s greatest acts. Oh, to be so selfless, to learn the unforced rhythms of grace, to follow that child’s lead!
The bell rings.
Work awaits
Biscuit. Joshua Heyer. CC BY-SA
*******
with thanks to Two Writing Teachers for the Tuesday Slice of Life Challenge
Discover more from lit bits and pieces
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
lit bits and pieces 
Oh, what a beautiful, biscuit-ful moment to behold. To bear witness to this interchange between brothers was a blessing and reminder that sacrificial love is everywhere, but seldom as obvious as this. That teacher (I wonder who she was…..hmmm…..) left a great impact on the heart of the child who sacrificed. And a biscuit!!! Now THAT is pure love. I like the way you took squabbling brothers from the Biblical days and showed that we are really the same at heart today. We all need that voice of guidance and reassurance, and many times it comes through a teacher who takes the time and stays tuned in.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you for your response, Kim, and “the teacher” would tell you that the little brother’s face was as radiant as an angel’s.
LikeLike
Fran, I agree with Kim. Your blog post is full of depth and love. Your storyline fills my thoughts with kindness that I owe my family. I always see bright stars shining in your posts. May your school days be ones of peace. The world needs love and unforced rhythms of grace.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Carol, thank you as always for your beautiful words about the post and how it made you think of kindness you owe your family. How lovely!! I am glad you picked up on the line “unforced rhythms of grace” – learning the unforced rhythms of grace has become a life theme for me (a challenging one, I confess) after reading it in Eugene Peterson’s paraphrase of Matthew 11. I do have much more peace in my school life this year, over previous years. I am grateful for it. As mentioned on your post: I pray peace to you also, my friend.
LikeLike
This is so lovely – both what the little brother did for his brother, and the way you have written about it. It brought tears to me eyes.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Becky, for your words about the post. It is a story that needed to be told. I especially appreciate your mention of the way it’s crafted. That is always the greatest challenge, isn’t it – the “how” of the telling!
LikeLike
What Becky said…I needed this lovely moment to start my day.
LikeLike
Merry Christmas, Fran! I feel like part of your family! Thank you for writing so eloquently about your tribe. I have so enjoyed your writing. Wishing you a happy and healthy new year!
LikeLike