20 Stories - The Box of Holding On 

The Box of Holding On 

Sometimes it can be easy to forget the day before, especially while you are getting better. She was standing in the garden back at her own home appearing to be admiring this very beautiful arrangement of orchids growing outside. But the truth is, as she stood, she was completely unaware of how impressive the orchids looked and how unique each individual flower was.

She often woke up like this, still sleeping while she was awake. 

Her actual seeing eyes had run backwards and were paused on a moment in time. Although this time was many years ago, she still remembered every word in the conversation. Unfortunately, in this particular conversation she had only said three words. The other person had mustered up about 172 of the cruelest things a person could say to her for almost no reason at all.

Her mind decided to count each of the 172 words completely missing the golden butterfly that flew right by her nose and landed on the delicate blossom of a newly opened orchid’s lavender hued petal. Her mind did not even smell the delicious scent of a honey mixed with a raspberry that the orchid gave off which subtly bathed the air. Her feet moved in the most absolutely fertile soil; she did not even notice at all. Instead, she counted 22, 23, 24, as she moved through each of the very dreadful words….

“Serious, is this dragging on for so long? Must we entertain this thought again? Thoughts of never letting go and perplexities and worry, worry, worry. It reflects you know, in everything you experience. Your love is in a state of limitation. You just hang the past on everyone else you meet. Come on let’s let that go. Isn’t it time to experience a new life?”

The apricot had come alive in her hands. She jumped; having forgot she was holding a piece of fruit in her hands. It had a face, a very round one with bright gold eyes and it was talking to her. She brushed the hair out of her face and stared, her eye widening as she focused on the fruit. Suddenly it had her attention. This was a rather normal apricot, but the tasteless kind, like the ones that you find in the markets of South America. Dusty, picked too early, a little not quite ripe enough to be an enjoyable fruit.

“See! There you go again!”, the fruit grew two long legs and stood in her hands and as she watched, hands grew out of its sides. The fruit pointed at her, one hand becoming a long tangly branch, its fingers a mix of leaves and twigs. “See, you have forgotten to remember to look for the beauty, to celebrate”, it said pointing its twigs right at her face which she had moved closer just to see if it was real. The apricot eyed her intensely as if sizing her up both hands now resting where an apricots hip would be. Its eyes grew larger, and it looked square in her face.

“Boo!”, it said calmly.

She dropped the piece of fruit like it was a ball of hot coals and ran as fast as she could. Pit pat pit pat pit pat her feet on the stairs scared her more. She sought safety and crawled beneath her bed and remained as still as possible, her breath was freezing in her chest. She lay there, frozen in fear and the thousand echoes that wanted to be in her mind were silenced. All she could do was listen, listen, listen, intently for any sign that the apricot may have followed her to her hiding place under the bed.

She thought about what the apricot said, about looking for the beauty. 

Her thoughts beat inside of her head. 'It’s true'. She told herself, 'the apricot knows. Almost everything in my life is not beautiful. I dislike almost everything. I am very sensitive; I know what can happen'.

Swiftly, she was knocked back into reality, when the greatest softness she had ever known pushed its face against her. She felt soothed instantly as she stared in the golden eyes of the greatest gift that had ever been given to her. It was just a little cat, nothing at all like the humans. This little cat was perfect. Her thoughts paused; her fear left had gone. She jumped up on her bed with the little cat fast by her side.

Little was no ordinary cat; she spoke to the girl in dreams, told her things. Usually, the girl did not listen, but Little tried anyway. The girl was too focused on trying to make everyone happy: the postman, the mayor, the bellhop, the bullies; she gave and gave and gave now she was just tired but Little cat was there by her side.

This cat, Little, was most peculiar to look at, the pattern on her fur was best described as ‘splotted’, like a cow, with the colors of a great white shark, steel and white. Her texture was extraordinary, a luxurious blanket of softness covered the slinky bodied feline. But most importantly, this particular cat was smart, very smart. She only spoke when it was important which was not all the time, but she knew how to speak her mind when it was.

The girl held Little and as the cat began to purr, she thought about what the apricot had said. She concluded that the entire story of her messy past and the how’s and whys and whatnots that created this whole mess she found herself in was not the problem. She realized that many things happened to so many people that she may never be able to properly figure out and get the answers she felt she needed. That perhaps it was not the 172 words that held her in bondage to her past but her thinking about them again and again and yes, one more time.

On that note she became sort of positive about what she could do. Being a broken spirit, she needed to enter her inward kingdom properly and find herself. Every little last bit that was not ok. What truly mattered what was going on in the inside.

She knew that the Good Shepard said she needed to see the walls of her kingdom. She had built her walls in sorrow; he said to her. Break down these walls, break down these walls, you belong in the light of Christ. She closed her eyes.

She found herself standing outside a large building. The air was dead silent and the cement building towered above her. Her eyes stared at its base and watched an empty metallic plastic bag of potato chips ride upon a lone breeze. Struggling to survive, a piece of a yellowy green grass pointed upwards. There was a small dandelion plant, but its flower had not yet bloomed, and it was still in a bud.

The earth around the building had that construction grey, compacted, slightly oily from daily filth, untended and the kind of dirt that resisting growth. Flat grey cement squares formed a path that led to the building’s door. Her eyes looked upwards. The sky above it was completely grey. Low grey clouds covered the sky and not a single ray of sun warmed anything here.

The construction was not elegant. Rugged and bland, it reminded her of a long-shuddered factory, but she felt that this building was still in use. It could have been an institution, or a manufacturing plant but it most certainly it did not look like it contained heaven.

The paint was just about the same grey green as the earth and the sky, the same green that colors moldy things. The paint was faded and covered with the compacted dust of the soil that ringed the building. The windows were small, dirty and one was broken. She could see no light inside.

No light shined down on her; she felt a chill glancing at the building. The door was heavy, thick steel yet twisted as if some unknown force had caused it to bow so she could enter.

In there? She thought. This is the kingdom?

“This is your kingdom”, Little, her small grey and white cat said to her. She rolled her eyes at Little expressing her feelings. It had taken the girl too much time to awaken in her life, she was silent in observation that this was the kingdom she had created within.

Looking at the bent door again, her emotions quickly offered her 1,000 things she could do instead of opening it. She shook them off, left the outside world behind and was brave enough to open the door.  She twisted the door knob back and forth in her hands to no avail.  It did not open. She shook it all her might.  Then holding the handle in her hand she twisted and threw her entire body weight against the door.

Ughhhhpfff. Her shoulder hurt. She slipped to her knees and rubbed her shoulder. The door definitely did not open. She stood back up and looked again. She needed the Creator, of all that is and ever was. The only one she could trust to help her.

Inside her heart she spoke a silent prayer in spirit and in truth. She connected with her breath – and calmed herself in a deep reverence and gratitude. She calmed herself. Her anxious mind quickly reminded her that this was only true for part of her being because her broken soul was scattered throughout this kingdom. She trembled slightly because she sensed part of her was wildly screaming in pain. She breathed out and with it ignored everything single thought of the emotions and all the rest of her was completely present in a perfect state of love with the Creator. 

Her hand twitched. Her stomach clenched. She breathed in peace and kept moving heart to be in her silent prayer.

She reminded herself of the Way to Stay Positive:

Positive

Don’t look back

Seek the solution

Trust god

This time when she looked at the door it shimmered, a response to her prayer, the door’s core became liquid light and remade itself. Filling and recreating its space, turning a luminous shiny glittery gold. It flooded this world with its light. She reached her had towards the door and a beautiful handle of crystal and silver appeared. When her hand touched it, she could feel the peace and the joy.

She almost smiled looking down at Little. We must be right on time she thought. This time door opened easily and together they walked inside.

She looked at Little as the door closed behind them.

Everything shifted as soon as she entered the building. The mental anguish she felt was beyond real. Bombarded from all sides dark spirits attacked her. They all wore masks of people she had known, they mocked her heart and said cruel things. The same things she had heard so many years ago.

The masks lit up the room in an amazing flash of chaos. Masks from all different cultures and events from all over the world.  Suddenly in front of her face popped a bright yellow, orange and green Mardi Gras mask - red eyes glowed within the mask as it was inches from her face.  Then it spun upwards as many others joined it in its flight.  All at once they all fell on the floor.  

The room was silent and then a small girl appeared with a broom and she began sweeping the masks up into a pile. As she was doing this one mask began twitching, the others soon followed and the dance of the masks began again. They fluttered all around the room then gathered in the middle dancing about and then fell to the floor in a little pile. 

In the center of a room the small child sat in front of a large box with her  broom lying next to her. When the girl looked up at her she had far away eyes and a grey cloud was around her head.   She spoke out loud, but almost as if she was just speaking to herself. 

"God is mad at me". she said. Tears welled up in her eyes and the little child began shaking. 'I needed to be better. I can’t be forgiven. It already happened, God is mad".

Suddenly, all the masks of people she knew appeared again. The girl looked beyond what the little fracture could see. In the background of the room two dark shadows loomed beyond the rest. They were the darkness that ruled this room. The masks got a little brighter distracting the girl and the mouths of them tried to bite her heart. Then they fell to the ground and withered.

A mask near the fractured soul part fell to the floor. She wept. 'I did not mean to hurt you'. she said to the mask. She took her broom and swept the mask up. The room was dark, spare what light was cast through the door from outside. Looking around, even in the shadowy illumination you could see that this room was kept very clean. 

The fractured girl stood up with the broom and began sweeping up more of the wrinkled masks. With each, she mentioned the name of the person and one by one she put them gently into the giant box.

This little broken soul was always chasing her memories. It clouded up her thinking. When she looked at someone new, she dressed them in her memories and would put the old masks on them. All the memories she kept in this room were of the people that were mean to her. She had a good memory; she could remember every word.

So, she cleaned up everything as best as she could, she put all of these memories in the box. It was a big chest. The kind of chest that was normally filled with blankets or sweaters. She did not make too many friends because her box was already full. She doubted if she could fit another pain in it. She called it her box of holding on to things.

She cracked the box open just a bit so nothing would fall out and the room filled again with a horrible emotion of knowing no one loved her and she was unforgiven. The things she held onto reinforced her feeling this way.

The girl was a grown up now and not the hurting part. She did not react as she watched herself go through these motions.  Realizing the people were not even in this room that part of her still cried over.  She walked to her broken soul and gathered herself up looking into the far away eyes and this little part of herself that was dressed in rags sewn together, they were filthy and slightly musky. Almost like the memories.

She held the head of her broken soul in her hands and the grey clouds surrounded them. With great love she spoke to herself from her very own heart. 'It is ok, it is time forgive. We can let these memories and people go. We can forgive and be forgiven'. Her and the little girl began to weep and say 'I forgive you, I bless you and I let you go'. and little by little the memories allowed themselves to be unremembered and by forgiving they were ready to go. 

'You do not have to be scared of forgiving someone. When you do you see the blessing in what happened and you will feel better'.  'God is not a monster? We created the monster.  God forgives us, we can let go. The little soul fragment looked at her and suddenly and a sparkle lit up her eyes,  her heart glowed and beat one time.  She knew it was the truth.  

Then the box suddenly flew open, and all the memories flew away in a mixture of little bats and little happy birds. Love had saved her again. The last memory flew away grabbing the grey clouds from around the girl’s head with its feet. The fracture looked at her and smiled and with an electrical snap the two became one soul again.

Just then, the whoosh of large wings distracted her. An enormous bird entered the room, and a great bright light flooded the area. Raphael, almost as tall as the room itself stood there. Clothed in heavenly armor and weaponry.

He reached into a sachet on his back. "Try these", Raphael said, handing her a rather spectacular pair of glasses. They became almost invisible as she lifted the small lenses towards her face. Dark scales dropped from her eyes and lenses of the glasses shone like liquid silver.

The dark forms in the room could no longer hide. These glasses had a special gift of discernment. Discernment helped her see the truth. Behind the box the two dark shadows still loomed. She could see them now, they were not gods, she never needed to agree with them again.

"Torment and Unforgiveness", she called them out by their names. "I see you". The demons’ eyes grew wide, and torment slightly shook with fear. "You are not God; You tricked me! I renounce you and any agreements we ever made. “Nooo!”, torment screamed trying to appear taller. "I renounce you in the Name of the Christ Jesus", she repeated. With a shriek Torment withered away. But unforgiveness laughed. “Remember what they did to you”, she reminded herself. Her mind felt calm because the grey cloud was gone so she just laughed.

“I am forgiven” she said happily and laughed throwing up her arms “Everyone is forgiven!”, Little still standing by her side smiled, if a cat could do such a thing. Unforgiven withered away and then the entire room withered like autumn foliage and blew away. All that remained was a golden key, forgiveness is a key. She realized the quicker one could forgive someone the less the pain could hurt her. 

The mansion shifted in and out of dimensions then it reformed entirely. She looked at Little as they were now sitting outside in a different hallway. The door they had come though was closed firmly behind them and sealed shut. The new key, forgiveness, was added to the keyring which she kept in her pocket.

She reminded herself of the Way to Stay Positive

Don’t look back

Seek the solution

Trust God

The Box of Holding On 20 Stories from the Book of Little

By Sarah A. Sherman