by Therese Sherlock, CSJ
A hurt sticks in one’s memory, especially one that seemed like a betrayal. When we were in junior high, my best friend, Margie, and I were picked to sing on a Saturday morning radio program in Cedar Rapids. It was a strong station whose signal went all over eastern Iowa. We planned to sing a duet version of “April Showers.”
Cedar Rapids was an hour-and-a-half drive from our small town. The morning program was on at 10:30 a.m. My mom volunteered to drive us. That morning I was getting dressed early when the phone rang. I answered. It was Margie’s mother. Margie was sick and couldn’t come.
“What’s wrong with her?” I asked.
“She has cramps,” her mother said.
I was crushed. Cramps were the excuse girls gave when they didn’t want to do something. It could not be questioned. Cramps just were.
After I cried and cried, my mom and I drove to Cedar Rapids. I sang “April Showers” alone. My brother taped the program for me, but I never listened to it. Margie’s betrayal sat in my heart like a big lump for a long time.
After high school I went to college and after one year joined the Sisters of St. Joseph. Margie went to work in Denver and soon married. We kept in touch but rarely met. Gradually the lump went away.
Today Margie and her husband are both ill and living in Arizona. I am the one that has to make the move to visit and write and call. In a way I am the only connection Margie has from back then. When I visit, we greet each other like the old friends we are.
In this Sunday’s gospel Jesus and Peter talk for the first time after Peter denied even knowing Jesus in the high priest’s courtyard. His denial is much bigger than backing out of a duet on the radio. Peter didn’t stand with his friend. What will the two say to each other?
- When have you let go of a hurt and welcomed back into your life a friend or family member?