grace, grace, transformative grace

Her older sister inadvertently spilled punch all over her
at the wedding reception,
and didn’t even know she did it—
brushed by in all the excitement
of sending the bride and groom off in a shower of bubbles,
the full cup tipping in her wake.

But the younger was wet and miserable and mad,
and went out to sit in the car with her mother,
ready to go home.
I caught up to and asked the older one,
“Do you know you dumped a whole cup of punch
down the front of your sister’s dress?”
“No?!” she exclaimed.

As we left the reception,
she was offered a generous slice of wedding cake to take home,
which, upon arriving at the car, she gave to her sister,
along with her apology.

When we got home,
the younger one got out of the car grumbling,
“I wanted her spanked,
but then she gave me cake.”

“Annoying, isn’t it?” I said, laughing.

Grace, grace, transformative grace.


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