A Christian Never Lies

Maria Margaretta was a very good child and an even better girl. She wore nice dresses and took extra care to keep them pristine, and she never complained when her headbands pinched behind her ears. Every Sunday, Maria would attend Sabbath school with a graceful, modest demeanor, careful to raise her hand before speaking and ask questions befitting her station. Maria Margaretta, like all good Christians, would never lie.

At school, Maria would proudly stick up her nose when other children discussed their family troubles. Her family certainly wasn't like theirs. Maria's papa was a stern man with a firm hand, and he only ever raised it in accordance to the great book's allowances. So, Maria's mama was hardly ever hit, and when she was, it was only just so, and only after a great bit of backtalk. Besides, Maria's mama very rarely spoke out of turn, and had learned over the years to never raise questions about money or discipline. The latter was amusing in itself. Papa never hit Maria, save for when she were younger and unruly. She had long-since learned the proper ways to dress and behave, and the proper teachings a girl must study and abide by.

Maria's papa was a good man who never drank or gambled. The only time papa's breath ever smelled of wine was after communion, and like a true Christian, Maria's papa was trusted with the duty of burying the remainder of the blessed wine behind the church. A task he handled with utmost care and deliberation, never daring to hurry through his assignment. Often, he was the very last to stand in line at potluck, so was his generosity. On occasion, Maria's papa would stand in line swaying on his feet, sweat beading at his brow. Such was his diligence with his responsibilities, that he never complained regardless of how laborious the task or hungry his belly. Maria felt a great deal of pride in her father, and could experience no greater happiness than to be acknowledged by him. She knew he felt a great deal of pride in her, too, for all the times he praised her modesty and humility.

"Thank you for being such a good, silent child." He would tell her, and Maria would give a small, demure nod in response, careful not to betray her smile.

Maria's mama was the pinnacle of modesty. She hardly ever spoke anymore, so disciplined was she in the ways of the Lord. Mama was a woman who cooked well, cleaned well, and mothered well, and did little else in the meantime. Maria could think of no woman so pristine as her mama in the eyes of the Lord. In her wildest dreams, Maria imagined that one day, her mama might even be sainted or otherwise acknowledged by the church. If anyone deserved such recognition, it was she. No other in the church was as strict about the scriptures, with her hair coverings and floor-length dresses. And certainly no one listened as well as she, who never spoke unless first spoken to.

Maria's mama only had but one flaw: her clumsiness. It seemed mama was always running into doors or slipping down the stairs, leaving large, mottled bruises across her arms and back. This was Maria's only grievance with mama, for all the medical bills and financial strain caused by her regular spells of clumsiness.

But everyone makes mistakes, and Maria could do little more than feel grateful that she did not have a mama like Caleb's instead, who waddled about in her heels and flashy, knee-length dresses. Even Phoebe's mother, who wore appropriately simple dresses and flats, wore makeup that proved her vanity. Seldom few in the church truly abode by the scriptures, or even read them. Maria had to be very careful not to convey her distaste for such members, reminding herself all the time that she simply had more opportunities to give testimony.

Still, this did not stop her from creating lists -- for the purpose of knowing which souls needed saving, she reasoned.

Brother John never tithed a full ten percent, and for all his expensive watches and fancy suits, he often gave the least of anyone. This was information that only Maria and her papa were privy to, as papa was often placed in charge of counting the tithes, and when he arrived at Brother John's envelope he would always tut under his breath. Maria was never able to witness much of the tithe-counting before her papa inevitably waved her out of the room, telling her to sit outside the door and warn him if anyone approached. That way, he told her, no one could interrupt his counting.

Sister Lydia often played songs on the pipe organ that were not hymns, and Maria often caught her humming secular music in the halls.

Sister Gladys and Esther often let their children run about disruptively in the middle of sermons, and Maria had caught Esther on more than one occasion praying with her eyes open. If her children were better disciplined and she took her motherly responsibilities more seriously, she might find less distractions from her worship.

And Pastor Matthew was likely the worst, as he failed to rein in all of these, the members of his congregation.

So it was that Maria's heart was heavy every day with the weight of the sin of her brothers and sisters in Christ. And each and every night she would kneel before her bed, lower her head, close her eyes, and clasp her hands in prayer.

"Lord, you know that I am your humble servant," she would begin.

"I am worried for my fellow Christians, for their hearts and minds are greatly clouded by sin. I lift them up to you now, that you might bless their spirits and bring them into your eternal light, that they might embody Christ in all they do and say. I pray that you might move Brother John to have a more generous spirit, that he might understand the joy of cheerful giving. For it is harder for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God, than for a camel to jump through the eye of a needle. I ask that you instill in Sister Lydia a greater appreciation for your songs of worship, that she be not swayed by Satan's temptations. For all the sisters of the church, I pray that they might find great pleasure in motherhood, and that they find the strength not to spare the rod when the rod is required. I beseech you, Lord, to give Pastor Matthew the guidance and firmness required to govern your church in a way that pleases you."

Maria continued on for a good while, asking for world peace and the wisdom necessary to be a good Christian, before she arrived at her final point.

"For my family, Lord, I ask that you continue to bless and watch over us. For papa, that he might remain steadfast in his faith and stay a good husband. For mama, that she stays ever patient and pleasing in your eyes. They are the very best people in the world, Lord, and I love them very much. Know that I say all this in earnest, and pray to you now with all the truth I can muster.

Amen."