Grandmother, What Big Eyes You Have

I stepped close to the sofa, set a cup of steaming tea on the spindly-legged table and fixed the blanket around my Grandmother's knees. We were never close unless one measured closeness on physical proximity. Chasms of misunderstanding stood between us, growing ever deeper all the time. I saw her as a curious relic of a lifestyle long past. A life wherein neighbors clustered together, offering aid where needed and being unafraid to stop and talk to strangers. Behind closed doors, they read Bible passages after dinner and gossiped about one another fearlessly, knowing that all gathered within the confines of the cozy living room would never let a secret slip out the door. Home was a sheltered place for the pious to pass judgement on their neighbors without probing eyes glaring into their souls. It was a place where they could claim Squatters Rights to the right hand of Jesus and put children in their places by calling out "Spare the rod and spoil the child!" to drown the yelps and yowls. I loved my Grandmother deeply yet felt her judgements of me deeper still.

I sipped my own tea and studied her a long time until she glared at me with her clear eyes.

"Grandmother, what big eyes you have."

"All the better to see the writing on the wall, my dear. I've got you figured out, you insolent child. I can see what you're all about, you young people who think you know how to do everything better than your elders. Yes, I have eyes and I can see that the wicked have laid a trap for me, Psalm 119, verse 110. But I know to tell you hooligans to 'Depart from me, you evildoers'! Verse 115."

"Grandmother, what big teeth you have."

"All the better to bare them at you in a savage smile and gnash against all that you represent with your sinful mind. The world is not what it once was and it is your fault. You and the rest of the riffraff from your generation."

"Grandmother, what big ears you have."

"All the better to hear what your enemies have to say about you, my dear so I can make clear judgements about you and your fellow sinners. Don't you know that the unrighteous will not inherit the earth?"

"Grandmother, what a large mouth you have."

"All the better to talk behind your back about you, my dear. I must inform as many people as I can about your lack of faith in Jesus, let them know to avoid you lest they burn in hell with you. You and your 'spirituality.' If you can't go to church and praise Jesus then you're a fraud and I will scream it from the mountaintops. Sinners like you seem to forget that Jesus said that we shall judge angels!"

"Grandmother, what a big nose you have."

"All the better to know what stinks! That's you and this new generation!" She ended on a harrumph and slurped her tea before turning her gaze to the street outside the large picture window. Cars, trucks, and buses zoomed past on the newly widened roadway. Grandmother harrumphed again and shook her head.

I smiled, more to myself than at her, and hoped she would find comfort in her religion, in her faith, despite her anger at the world and my representation of it.

I didn't say "Grandmother, what a small mind you have. Grandmother, for such large eyes, you seem so blind; for such big ears, you don't hear the truth; for such big teeth in your even larger mouth, you hardly smile and you never sing." I didn't quote scripture and refer to Matthew 8, verse 13: Go thy way; and as thou hast believed, so be it done unto thee. How could I? I belong to no church, no organized religion. I have no saints or priests to strengthen my words and lend them validation. I have only my faith in a simple thought: I shall not judge that I be not judged. Whatever she thinks of me, she also knows I love her.