Becky’s Bramble
Part One
“Mom, why do Todd and Benny always throw fits?” Jessica asked, thinking of the two foster children in their home. “It makes everyone miserable—and they don’t get what they want anyway.”
“You are right,” Mom said. “Anger and wrath are terrible problems. When someone has given them a place in their hearts, you can’t stop them just by trying. Just like the thistles in the pasture that Joseph and Dad have been trying to get rid of.”
“They’ve kept coming back, even when we chopped them down and burned them,” Joseph agreed. “Even poison didn’t stop them for long. I’ve heard you have to dig out the roots to really kill them.”
“And that’s true with any besetting sin, including anger or lying or coveteousness,” Mom said. “It only can really be solved by dealing with the root problem. That’s not easy, because it is usually buried beneath a lot of pokey and difficult behavior.”
“Well, it seems like they are pretty much like thistles,” Jessica agreed with a sigh. “I just feel like locking them up in their room when they get going.”
“But it isn’t the people that are the problem,” Mom pointed out. “It is the sins that are ruling their lives. I have a story that may help us understand it better.”
There once was a girl named Becky who lived in a little town called Peopleville. Everyone in that town had their own little yard to grow their own gardens. Of course, when the children were little their parents did most of the work. But Becky was 8 years old now, and so she felt she could care for her garden quite well by herself. One day Mrs. Wise came down the road and saw Becky in her yard. “How is your garden growing?” asked Mrs. Wise.
“Very well,” said Becky. “Come see my flowers!”
So the friendly lady stepped through the little gate and looked around.
The yard had many things growing in it, to be sure. Carefree clover and do-as-I-please dandelions were scattered everywhere. Sticky cleavers tangled along the fence, but the biggest plant of all was a great bramble bush that filled nearly half the yard. Becky’s garden looked more like a wild thicket than anything Mrs. Wise had ever seen. But she only said politely, “Where are the flowers you wanted to show me, dear?”
“Right here,” Becky said. And sure enough, several sunshiny marigolds were blooming along the walk, and a little climbing rose had opened it’s first bloom by the front door. “Grandma gave me that,” Becky said with a bright smile. “She calls it a Ready-to-Go rose.”
“But where did you get this?” Mrs. Wise asked, pointing to the bramble bush.
Becky thought a moment. “I don’t know,” she said. “It’s been growing there ever so long. I guess I’ve had it since I was born!”
“Yes, those prickly pests are the plague of Peopleville,” Mrs. Wise said quietly. “But if you don’t get it out, Becky, it will soon choke all your beautiful flowers.”
Becky frowned. “I don’t mind it there,” she said. “And if it grows bigger, I can cut it off with these clippers that my teacher gave me.” And Becky snipped off a bramble leaf to show Mrs. Wise how they worked.
Mrs. Wise shook her head. “That won’t do much good. Brambles grow so fast that you’ll be snipping all the time. You must kill that plant if you don’t want your garden ruined for good, Becky.”
All the next week, whenever Becky walked down her garden walk, she thought of what her neighbor had said. “But I don’t want to kill that bramble bush. It is the biggest thing in my garden and has such pretty leaves!” Becky told herself. Of course, it was the biggest thing because it grew quite well all on its own. Since Becky didn’t like to care for her garden much, she didn’t notice how fast the bramble bush was taking over.
It was when she wanted to pick some flowers for her teacher that Becky started to get worried. “Oh, dear! My little marigolds are all getting covered up,” Becky said, looking down in dismay. Then “ouch!” as she reached under a bramble leaf to pick a golden flower. She pulled out her hand and looked at the red scratches. “That hurts! I’m going to snip you off, you bad bramble!”
Becky ran for her clippers and cut off the tip of the bramble branch. But the bush looked just as big and bushy as before. “Maybe Mrs. Wise is right,” she thought. “You do grow too fast!” With that, Becky began cutting off every branch she could reach.
“What are you doing, Becky?” Mr. Green said, looking over the fence. “Pruning your favorite bush?”
Becky had to smile. “Mr. Green, you are silly!” she said. “This is a bad bramble, and I’m cutting it down.”
“Is that so?” Mr. Green said with a smile, but then he got serious. “Those little clippers don’t look very strong, if you ask me. Can they cut through this big branch stealing over my fence? I don’t want any of your bramble in my yard!”
Becky looked up in surprise. Sure enough, one of the tallest stalks was climbing right out of her garden! “I’ll cut it off,” Becky said quickly. But as she stepped closer to the fence, thorny branches caught on her clothes.
“Ouch!” Becky said, for the second time that day. She tried to pull away and found that a second bramble had tangled in her hair. “I think I’m stuck,” she said in a small voice.
Becky heard Mr. Green chuckle. “Sure enough, you are,” he said, and came around to help her out. With a couple snaps he broke the branches and pulled them off of Becky. She was covered with scratches and nearly in tears before she got out of that mess!
“I’d get some weed killer if I were you,” Mr. Green said, as he turned to go. “That bramble’s too big for you to handle!”
Becky didn’t answer. She knew he was right, but the idea of killing the bramble bush seemed too hard. “I’ll just stay out of its way, so I won’t get all scratched up again,” she told herself.
But the bramble bush wouldn’t stop growing. It was only a couple days later that it tripped Becky’s friend when she came to visit. “What a horrid garden you have!” Stormie cried. “I’m not coming to play with you anymore!”
“I’m sorry!” Becky said. She ran to get her clippers, but Stormie had left by the time the naughty branches were snipped off.
The next day Becky’s trouble got worse. The mail-carrier was riding his bike past her gate when something got tangled in his wheel spokes. Suddenly he was tumbled into the road and the mail went flying everywhere.
“It’s that bramble of Becky’s that did it!” Mrs. Sharp said, as she called the emergency. “That girl’s going to be the death of somebody if they don’t deal with her wild ways soon! I’m going to give her folks a piece of my mind.”
And Mrs. Sharp did. Then Becky’s folks gave her a piece of their mind and she was sent to her room. She sat on her bed and felt sorry for herself. But that didn’t get rid of the bramble bush. Out in the yard that night it just kept on growing.
The next morning Becky looked outside. “Oh!” she thought, “That bramble is almost to my window! What if it comes in and smothers me while I’m asleep?” She rushed outside with her clippers. For nearly twenty minutes she kept busy snipping off the branches closest to the window.
“Good job, Becky,” called her mother. “Why don’t you try my habit-cutting hoe. It will cut off those vines that are getting all over the walkway.” So Becky did. Her back was hurting by the time the path was cleared.
Mother was pleased, but Mrs. Sharp wasn’t. “She hasn’t done anything about those thorny thief-vines under the fence!” she called from across the street. “Get that girl out here to cut them off before I call the police!”
“She must’ve forgotten,” Mother said. She quickly sent Becky out to the street to chop off the invaders.
Of course, Becky was already tired of the chopping she had done all morning. “What a pain!” she told herself, as she looked at the vines popping up outside her fence. Her bramble was truly causing her more trouble than she had counted on.
“All too true,” Mom said, as she stopped reading the story.
“But that isn’t the end, is it?” asked Jessica.
“No, but we will save the rest for later,” said Mom. “For now, we can think about the allegory.”
“I think the bramble is Becky’s besetting sin,” said Joseph. “Like the thistles we were talking about.”
“The more she tries to stop it, the more it grows and causes trouble,” added Jessica. “How is she going to kill it?”
“Mr. Green told her to get weed-killer,” pointed out Joseph. “I think that must mean salvation, since it kills the weeds of sin. I suppose that Mr. Green is a Christian who is trying to help Becky get saved.”
“I like Mrs. Wise, because she is kind,” added Jessica. “Not like Mrs. Sharp, who only wants to get Becky in trouble.”
“Mrs. Sharp doesn’t have a gracious attitude,” agreed Mom. “But people do need to see how bad off they are before they can get help. I think Becky is beginning to realize that.”
“I guess that’s what Todd and Benny need to realize, too,” Joseph said thoughtfully. “They don’t believe me when I say that throwing a fit just makes things worse.”
“Let’s keep praying that they will want something better,” said Mom. “In the meanwhile, God can help us to suffer long and be kind.”
See also: Part Two