This is a story I wrote in college, I was 21 years old. Back then I wrote it as my process of dealing with being single. I never dated all through high school or college and I was feeling pretty down on myself. Flash forward about 8 years and I was astonished at how this story helped encourage me in my grieving process of losing my husband. I won’t say too much. But I will say that I love how the Father (God) is never in a rush or hurries us. He is so gentle and patient with us. That is what is captured in this story I wrote:
Which Will You Choose: Pebbles or Jewels?
The little girl clenches tightly to the ordinary grey pebbles in her hand. Her father puts his tender, loving hands on her tiny shoulder. He holds out a handful of sparkling, glittering, rainbow-like jewels. Each jewel is glowing so brightly the little girl must use both hands to shield her eyes.
“Let it go,” her father tells her.
“I want to give you something better.”
Hurt and wounded tears well up in the girl’s eyes. With her fist still clenching her ordinary grey pebbles, she melts to the ground. “Daddy, I want to trust you. But how can I be sure what you have to offer will last or satisfy? I thought the pebbles I found for myself were jewels but it turned out they weren’t. The more I looked at them the less beautiful they became.” Soft, tender tears begin to fall from her father’s eyes. Ever so gently does he kneel down and lift her head up to his tearful face. As her head is lifted up she begins to weep, uncontrollably.
He quickly embraces his vulnerable precious girl. Both father and daughter weep together as he carefully and slowly rocks her back and forth in his arms. Not long after he begins to quiet her with his love and sing adoringly over her and her broken heart. “Hush, my little one,” her father says as he kisses her tiny little head. “I know and feel your pain more than you know. I am here. Hush. Shh. Trust me. Let me help you heal from your pain,” he whispers in her ear.
The little girl’s crumpled hand slowly unfolds as one small pebble falls from her hand. Her father lifts her to her feet and they begin to walk. And as they walk hand in hand she soon notices in her other hand a bright, glowing jewel in the middle of her ordinary pebbles. How it outshines anything she’s ever beheld! “Don’t worry about the other pebbles,” whispers her father, “they will be replaced later. For now, trust and walk with me.”
-Aimee Gonzaga (Price)