In The Case of Wrong

The parson’s car was in its usual spot in the church parking lot. Charlie Brown, the parson’s faithful canine companion was sprawled out in that same parking lot near the outside door to the parson’s study soaking up the sun’s rays. A passerby might have thought the parson inside kneeling at his study altar praying hard for the eternal souls of his flock. Another passerby might have thought him inside diligently studying the scriptures in preparation for a homily of excellence the next Sunday. Both would have been wrong. In actuality, the parson was inside with his laptop open on his desk watching the final episode of “Saving Grace” on the internet.

Before the episode ended two things had happened. The sun had climbed high enough in the sky to intensify its rays shining down on Charlie Brown. He, accordingly, had moved to the door and with a bark summoned his well-trained master to open the door for him. Entering the study he proceeded to his water bowl and drank the contents, all the contents. He, then, plopped himself down in his reserved corner with a grunt. About ten minutes following the entry of Charlie Brown, there was a knock on the parson’s inside door. When he opened the door Claire Brasselton greeted him.

“Hello, Parson,” she said. “Mom said it was okay if I asked you something if you have time.”

“I always have time for you,” said the parson. “Come on in.”

The parson made his way to the desk to shut down the computer. Charlie Brown raised his head and, after determining the intruder belonged to the United Methodist pack, lowered his head and closed his eyes with a grunt.

“Sit down,” said the parson. “What’s on your mind, Claire?”

Claire leaned forward from her perch on a chair toward the coffee table. On it rested a small bowl filled with miniature Tootsie Rolls.

“Can I have some of these?”

“Sure,” said the parson.

Claire took about half a dozen and unwrapped one. She popped it into her mouth and smiled. After chewing a while she said to the parson, “I need to ask you about doing things right and doing things wrong.”

“Okay,” said the parson. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, I think as I’m getting older I keep doing more and more things wrong.”

“Can you give me an example?” the parson asked.

Claire unwrapped another Tootsie Roll, put it in her mouth, and began to chew as she closed her eyes in thought.

“Well, last week we went over to my Nana’s house. Well, Nana can be a pain sometimes. I mean, she’s sweet and will do anything for me, but she just kept telling me things that were treating me like a little girl. I’m not a little girl anymore. Okay, I know I’m still a girl, but I’m not a baby. Nana made me feel stupid in front of my friends so I told her what she was saying was stupid. And I got in a lot of trouble for that. I was wrong to do that, I know. But I did it.”

The parson was well acquainted with Claire’s Nana. He could see the whole episode in his mind and had no doubt it happed as she described.

“That’s it? You said something wrong to your Nana?” The parson was not going to find fault here, because he’d said things to her Nana also.

“No, there’s more.” Claire popped another Tootsie Roll into her mouth. After a few chews, she continued. “Mom told me I couldn’t talk to one of my friends for a week on my mobile phone. That was punishment because my friend and I were texting each other during church a couple weeks ago. She goes to Plentiful Waters Baptist Church. We weren’t listening to the sermon so we started texting. My mom caught me. Her mom caught her. We were in trouble. So, I knew Mom would probably check my phone records so I kind of sneaked my brother’s phone and texted her on it. So now I don’t have a phone at all for a while, because my brother got mad because I sneaked his phone.”

The parson listened to these and at least a half dozen additional descriptions of doing the “wrong” thing. Each was related with the accompaniment of several Tootsie Rolls.

“Parson,” she finally said, “I’m really a good kid. How come I keep doing the wrong things? Do you think God will be mad at me for this?”

The parson thought a moment then reached for his laptop. He placed it on the coffee table.

“Look at this, Claire,” he said. “This computer can’t do a wrong thing. It always chooses the right thing based on the information it has. But God gave you and me a wonderful gift. That gift is that we have the ability to be wrong. Being wrong is how we grow. Being wrong is how we learn. Don’t worry that God would be mad at you. I think God would be glad you have had such good opportunities to be wrong and to learn.”

Claire bounded from her seat and across the room to hug the parson’s neck. “Thanks, Parson. I feel better.”

She walked back over to the table beside the chair and picked up the large pile of Tootsie Roll wrappers and placed them in the trash.

“I guess I’d better go now,” she said. “Mom’s in the sanctuary working on that worship banner.” She eyed the bowl with a few Tootsie Rolls remaining and asked, “Could I have the rest of those?”

The parson smiled, “I think, Claire, that might be wrong.”

“Yeah,” said Claire. “Bye, Parson.”