Ecc Study 13

Study Number Thirteen

Reread Ecclesiastes 8.

“days will not lengthen like a shadow”
“it will go better with God-fearing men”

“I’m sorry. It’s the only thing to do, really. The cysts are at the point where only a hysterectomy will take care of them completely. It’s a fairly routine procedure. I hate to tell you this, Annie. You’re one of my best friends and one of the people I most admire. I’ve never seen anyone else give so much of herself to her church family. Not to mention your students.” Carol shook her head in amazement, her pale green eyes wide, the red curls on either side of her face and the freckles on her white nose looking strangely out of place with her solemn expression.
No, Annie said. No, she hadn’t actually said it, just thought it. Thankfully. “There’s no other option then,” she did actually say, though she found it difficult to speak the words.
“Not really,” said Carol.
“Well, God knows what He’s doing,” Annie said, a part of her simply hoping, a bit dejectedly, that what she said was true, rather than fully believing it.
“Yes,” Carol said simply. Annie was grateful she didn’t elaborate. “Would you like to go ahead and schedule the procedure?”
Annie closed her eyes for a moment. The procedure. It’s routine. Then she opened her eyes and nodded. “Let’s do it,” she said.
“Still coming over tonight, I hope?” Carol asked quietly before Annie left the room.
Annie looked up from scuffing her toe on the dark purple Berber carpet. She’d told Carol once she thought purple a bad choice for an examining room. Reminded her of bruising. Carol said it wasn’t purple, but eggplant, and that it was supposed to be warm and homey, better than the cold, white tile on the floors of many of the rooms. Also it didn’t show stains, which was always a good thing, she said.
“The girls want to show you their room,” Carol said. “They’ve redone it. And they’ve hung up the pictures they made in your class.”
“Great,” Annie said. Her smile was genuine, though she was still replaying Carol’s words in her head. She would never have a child. Once again, justice was done. She didn’t deserve to bring a life into the world. But she would be a credit to the lives she touched that were already in the world. Somehow. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Annie stood on Carol’s doorstep, waiting for Allison to open the door. Annie could see her through the window fumbling with the lock. Finally she threw the door open and almost hit Annie. Annie stepped out of the way just in time.
“Sorry,” Allison said. “Come in.”
“I brought some cookie bars,” Annie said, holding out a covered casserole dish for Allison to see. She pulled up the corner of the fitted plastic lid so Allison could look inside.
Allison leaned forward and sniffed. “Chocolate chip cookie bars. Oh, they smell good.” She took the dish from Annie, fastened the lid back on, and headed to the kitchen at a trot, with Annie right behind her, though at a considerably slower pace. “Mom, Annie brought cookies!” Allison called to her mother, who was setting the table at the other end of the room.
“Hi, Annie,” Carol said, looking up from the table at her guest. “Rod should be back soon. He ran to the store to get drinks. It’s so hard to keep pop in the fridge, or anything else for that matter, with two teenage girls in the house.”
“I thought it was just the boys that ate so much,” Annie said.
“You should know better, teaching high schoolers,” Carol said.
“Yes, I guess I do, now that I think about it” Annie said. “I’ve seen some of my girls really put it away.” Allison set the cookie bars on the table, searched out a butter knife, and cut the huge rectangle into rows and rows of neat squares. Allison glanced at her mother and when Carol bent over to set another plate on the table, the girl quickly shoved a cookie into her mouth and had almost finished chewing it before her mom looked up.
“Wow, that was fast,” Annie said.
“What?” asked Carol.
Allison held a finger up to her lips, pleading for silence with her gesture and her eyes.
“Do you need any help?” Annie asked, moving to take the handful of silverware on the table.
“Sure,” Carol said. She started to say something else, but Annie cut in.
“Could I go look at the girls’ room when I finish helping you set the table? I saw the potato salad and beans on the table, and I bet Rod’s going to grill those hamburger patties, so you don’t really need any more help here, do you? I don’t think I can wait until after we eat to see the room,” Annie said.
Carol laughed. “Sure, you can wait,” she said. “You just don’t want to.”
“True,” Annie said with a smile.
“Come see the room now, Annie!” Allison said.
“You’re worse than I am,” Annie said. “I’m almost done.”
“She’s Miss Martin to you, Allie,” Carol said.
“Right,” said Allison.
“Sounds kind of stuffy for here at your house,” Annie said.
“Well, it wouldn’t be very good for her to slip and call you Annie at school,” Carol said.
“True,” said Annie. “Miss Martin it is then, I suppose.” But Allison was special to Annie. She thought of her as rather more than a student. More like a daughter. Sort of an adopted one. The only kind of daughter Annie could ever have now, she thought, a bit wistfully, though without much if any bitterness. The surgery seemed so perfectly just—after what she had done.

The room was painted a soft, very light salmon color. The dressers were white and the two twin beds had white iron headboards and white nightstands. Frilly white bedspreads covered the beds. The room would have seemed very innocent, sweet, and little-girlish, if it weren’t for the huge paintings over the beds, one a multi-colored abstract of what looked like a tangle of green, yellow, and purple streaks of lightning, the other a methodical painting of a tattered and faded blue kite, stuck in the detailed, heavily-veined but barren branches of a maple tree. Also, bright colored pillows, pulling out hues from the paintings, made the white beds more grown up. The girls had written an adaptation of a verse in calligraphy at the top of the wall across from their beds. There was no reference and it was only part of the verse, but Annie readily recognized it as such. It read, “The heart is the well-spring of life.” Annie thought that they should have written out the whole verse. If anything, it seemed to her that the part they’d left out was almost more important than what they’d used. “Guard your heart,” was how the verse began. Annie wished she had.
The bookshelf below was an antique, not completely level, having settled a bit on one end. The girls had it heavily but tastefully laden with books and knickknacks, including a sculpture that Allison had made in Annie’s art class of a boy and girl holding hands.
Annie had stopped to admire the sculpture when Allison was working on it in class, and Allison had said, “It’s me and Greg, the boy I’ve always loved.”
Annie had raised an eyebrow in surprise and perhaps, displeasure or disappointment. She didn’t want Allison to turn out anything like she had. Allison was to her everything that Annie had missed, in so many ways.
Allison shrugged. “He’s been my neighbor forever. We’ve known each other since we were toddlers. He’s a nice boy.”
Annie had her doubts.
“So how is Greg?” she asked Allison now, after she praised the girl on her beautiful room.
“Oh, great—“ Allison began. It seemed that she would have said more, but just then her sister Isabelle ran into the room and made a beeline for Annie, whom she quickly gave a huge hug.
“Do you like it?” Isabelle asked when she stepped back from her teacher.
“I do,” Annie said. “I really do. It looks and feels—compelling. It makes me—think.”
Isabelle wrinkled her nose. “Is that good?”
“Yes,” Annie said with a laugh. “I didn’t always think so, but I’m starting to change my mind.”
“Hmm,” Isabelle said. She glanced at Allison as if to say, “Teachers.”
As they left the room, Annie noticed the floor was hardwood with a large area rug. It was white and wouldn’t hide any stains at all. She thought she could already see a small spot on it, near the bookshelf.

Dinner was delicious. The hamburgers were cooked just right, neither too pink nor too black and Carol had all the fixings to put on them, pickles, purple onions, lettuce, tomato, cheese, bacon, and almost every condiment imaginable—several different kinds of mustard, sweet, spicy, and regular, ketchup, mayo, salsa, which one of the girls liked on hers, and butter, which Rod used liberally. The potato salad was creamy and not too eggy, the baked beans had just enough of a barbeque sauce kick, and the cookies were gooey and still slightly warm.
Afterward, though, Allison jumped up from the table and hurried to her room.
“She has a date tonight,” Isabelle said. “With Greg.” Isabelle didn’t seem too happy about it. “They’re always together.”
Carol frowned. “They do spend a lot of time together,” she said. “And I’m not sure he’s on the same page as us, you know? I mean, they do go to a good church, not ours, but, well, I’m not sure whether it means much to Greg. I think it’s just something his parents do and he’s along for the ride.”
“He’s also a lot older than Allie,” Isabelle said.
“A couple years,” Carol said.
“I’m three years older than your mom,” Rod said.
Carol and Isabelle both frowned at him and he shrugged his shoulders as if to say “What’d I do?”
Annie started to speak when Carol said quickly, “So what is going on with you and Drew Peters? I’ve seen you together around town several times lately.”
Allison returned, came up to Annie and stopped. Annie noticed Carol look at her daughter quickly and then look away.
“The vice principal?” Isabelle said, incredulous. “You’re dating him?”
“We’re just friends,” Annie said quickly.
“He’s a nice guy. I approve,” Allison said. “I’ve got to go. It was good to see you.” She gave Annie a brief, slightly awkward hug. She’d always been more uncomfortable with public displays of affection than was Isabelle.
“Be good,” Annie said lightly, but she met Allison’s gaze with concerned eyes.
Allison smiled but looked away without responding and then headed for the door.
“So?” said Isabelle, after Allison had left. She’d apparently forgotten all about her sister.
“We’re just friends,” Annie said again.
Isabelle tugged on her reddish-brown ponytail in frustration, wrinkling her forehead as she puzzled something out.
“I mean it,” Annie said. Drew reminded her too much of him. He was differently but all too similarly dark and mysterious, attractive and aware of it. She knew very little about him. And anyway, she didn’t have any desire for a relationship, nor anything to offer it. Still she was drawn to Drew, much as she had been drawn to him. The sickness of it, of her, that she must continually combat, that she seemed to be so attracted to unhappy relationships with selfish, arrogant people. Or was she the selfish, arrogant person, caught up in herself and heedless of the suffering of others—she saw that blank, still, pale face again as clearly as if it had happened this morning, though it had been so long ago, and remembered feeling so cold and emptied out not as long ago but still a sad life-time away.
“He’s so—old!” Isabelle said.
Rod almost spit out his pop as he choked back a laugh. “He’s the same age as I am,” Rod said, when he recovered.
“Exactly,” said Isabelle.
“No hope after you hit my ancient age, huh?” Rod said.
“No hope,” Isabelle agreed, but she smiled.
“Age doesn’t matter for me any more at all—not in a man or in myself,” Annie said. “I have no reason to hurry to marry. Maybe I never will.” Annie spoke with a degree of passion that caused her to surprise even herself. Maybe she did feel some bitterness after all. Carol reached for her hand and gave it a soft squeeze.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I wish I’d had better news for you today.”
Rod and Isabelle grew solemn though they obviously didn’t know what Carol and Annie were talking about.
Annie forced a smile. “I’m all right,” she said. “Just a little disappointed.”
Isabelle opened her mouth and Carol shook her head. “Please, not now,” she said.
Annie didn’t bring up her situation again but tried to focus on the present and enjoy the time with her friends, not even allowing herself to worry about Allison and Greg.
They played Monopoly because Isabelle begged them too. It was the last game anyone else was interested in. But Isabelle’s effervescent personality generally did win the day. She reminded Annie a little of her younger sister. Allison reminded Annie more of herself and yet Annie fervently hoped and prayed that Isabelle and Allison would be very different from Abby and Annie.

Questions to Answer

1. Ecclesiastes 8 discusses adhering to authority and rules, as well as following protocol. What does this exhortation have to do with wisdom?

2. Ecclesiastes 8 indicates that ultimately it is better to do right than to be wicked. It also indicates that we can find joy in small pleasures and daily tasks. But man still cannot comprehend what goes on under the sun. Why not?

3. Describe Annie. Compare where she is now to where she was.

4. What kind of people do Rod and Carol seem to be?

5. Why does Annie’s heart particularly go out to Allison? Why isn’t she more aggressive in helping her?

6. How can you find joy in the tasks God has given you even when you have struggles? How can helping others aid you in finding joy and in experiencing personal growth?