My room is in the basement located below my sister's room, so when Julie came back from her date I could hear her talking to my mother through the heating vent: "Yes! And it was awesome, you see we were driving and he's like..." and then later "So we had the top down and we talked about our favorite constellations..." OH for crying out loud. Life is so unfair. My sister has all the good fortune, and I am lucky to be allowed to listen to her talk about how wonderful things are. SIGH.... is there any poetic justice in the world?
That poetic justice came around 1:00 in the morning. Through the heating vent I heard a cry of alarm. From the tiny basement window I can hear the pouring pounding rainstorm. Since I am a floor below Julie I can hear her footsteps pound from
my-sisters-room-down-hall-front-room-out-door SLAM.
As I listen to the pouring rain I wonder why the excitement.
SLAM front-room-down-hall-parents-room.
Whisper whisper
Groan
Whisper whisper
Groan mumble
Whisper plea
WHAT! You left the top down!? IT'S RAINING!!!!
PARENTS-ROOM-DOWN-HALL-FRONT-ROOM SLAM!
The next part of the story I am not particularly proud of, but read to the end and you will see the lesson I learned. As I laid in bed realizing what was happening I felt extremely happy. Elation, pride, joy.... my sister was finally getting what she deserved! That trick of "Oh, Daddy, please" to get anything she wanted was dead now! My parents would see that I was the child they should be loving with lavish gifts.
Julie came back to her room, and through sobs she explained to my father that she couldn't figure out how to get the top back up, so she figured it wouldn't matter if she left it down until the morning. My father was not very patient at one in the morning, but he was wise. He explained that there would be a full discussion in the morning when he was rested and more calm. My sister cried and I twirled while dancing on my bed with my ear against the heating vent.
Then I made the big mistake. I was so happy I knelt down and thanked Heavenly Father for the wonderful bit of justice he had allowed to happen.
I often wonder how many stories our guardian angels know but don't tell us. I am imaging my guardian angel saying, "You know, this kid is 16, he's full of himself and thinks his life is unfair... I'll let slide. Then he's thrilled about his sister's misfortune, but I'll ignore that. He's throwing a victory dance when his sister is crying? I will restrain myself because I know he's not ready. Wait - are you telling me he's praying to thank Heavenly Father that his sister is going through a trial? This is too much!"
The response from the spirit was simple: "Do you really want to be treated the way you deserve?"
"I say unto you that if ye should serve him who has created you from the beginning, and is preserving you from day to day, by lending you breath, that ye may live and move and do according to your own will, and even supporting you from one moment to another—I say, if ye should serve him with all your whole souls yet ye would be unprofitable servants." (Mosiah 2:21). In other words, if I was perfect I would only be repaying back to God what He already gave me. The spirit began to remind me of all the times I wasn't perfect. That won't make it into the story, but when I thought of "For of him unto whom much is given much is required" (D&C 82:3) I realized even little sins were big considering how much I had been blessed. And not all of my sins have been little sins.
If I got what I deserved I would have no hope, for "no unclean thing can dwell with God; wherefore, ye must be cast off forever." (1 Nephi 10:21) I should be eternally grateful that God has not cast me off like I deserve, but instead forgiven a debt of "ten thousand talents" (Matthew 18:24). Then when my sister was cast into sadness I rejoiced? The Lord could say "I forgave thee all that debt, because thou desiredst me: Shouldest not thou also have had compassion on thy fellowservant, even as I had pity on thee?" (Mattew 18:32-33). I was on the edge of asking Heavenly Father to send me trials much worse than my sister.
Julie's sobs still echoed through the heating vent, but my heart began to break. She was always more careful with vehicles than I was, and she had more experience driving - it was wrong for me to feel like she deserved less than me. I prayed for Julie, I prayed for my father, I prayed that the car would not suffer damage, I prayed that I would know how I could help. I thanked Heavenly Father for the incredible mercies that I had received, and I prayed that I might have more strength to follow his commandments. I felt like God was understanding, and that I would be blessed as long as I remembered the lesson I had learned.
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