But, you’ve read it before, you know she dies came the quizzical response. I had no answer, just more tears as I continued reading. That’s what it does to me.
As I cozied up with my fuzzy blanket, hot chocolate and a storm raging outside, the touching story of the four dear sisters carried me to tears again. No, it wasn’t Beth’s untimely death that provoked the flood. It was Jo’s unforgiveness towards Amy after the younger sibling burns her prized possession: her manuscript. After the incident, Marmee (their mom) admonishes Jo to forgive her sister and “not let the sun go down on your anger”. Jo dismisses her mother’s wise advice and allows the anger to fester. Later, when they go ice skating, Jo knows that Amy didn’t hear the warning about the thin ice and doesn’t inform her or even stop her as she glides out toward danger. If you haven’t read the book (which is a shame and you really should read it even if you’re a guy) I have to tell you that Amy falls through the ice but is saved (thank you Lauri) and there is sweet reconciliation between sisters. Jo, though still prone to rash behavior, never again lets the sun go down without forgiving.
That’s when I started crying.
No one else knows the anger, bitterness, envy or secret grievances we carry around with us.
No one knows when we go to bed, night after night, angry for real or perceived wrongs.
Sometimes, people can guess by words we say or how we respond to certain situations, but no one really knows.
Yet, that anger or unforgiveness or envy or jealousy or whatever we harbor, festers like an infected wound.
Sometimes those around us are hurt by it, but most often, we’re the ones who suffer the most from our unforgiveness.
Say I love you while you’re able.
Don’t let the sun go down on your anger.