Natalie Peanut Butter
Natalie Peanut Butter
by Naomi Wright Williams
I was sitting in a college class and we were discussing the therapeutic benefits of confessing the things that we had done wrong in our lives. The teacher taught us that if we had wronged someone and not apologized that a tremendous burden would be lifted if we would go to them and set the matter straight. As he taught us this principle I immediately had an experience pop into my mind that I had never admitted to anyone. At first I tried to laugh it off because it had happened so many years before and was only with my sister Natalie. I had rationalized it away so much over the years that it became a small matter, or so I thought. The next two days were pure torture as I replayed the scenario in my mind over and over.
When I was 8 years old my family didn’t have a lot of money and it was very well known that we did not waste food. One day I got a huge spoonful of peanut butter. I took one little bite of it and then threw the rest in the trash, along with the spoon. I didn’t think anything about it until I heard my mom asking my two brothers if they were the ones who had wasted the peanut butter. I heard them both say no. Then it was my turn. “No, Mom, I didn’t waste the peanut butter.” Off she went to ask my little sister Natalie. Of course she said no as well. Did I mention that Mom and Dad were very big on telling the truth? Soon Dad was involved and lined up all four of us in the kitchen. He went down the row asking each of us who threw the peanut butter in the trash. Now I felt like I couldn’t tell the truth. I had already lied and gotten out of it up to this point, so I thought I had to keep going.
It slowly became very apparent that Mom and Dad weren’t going to let this one drop. It wasn’t just that one of us had wasted the food; it was that someone was lying. Finally Dad had had enough. He told us that if the culprit didn’t make himself/herself known immediately that all of us were in big trouble. He was going to count to five and then everyone was going to be in trouble. As he started the count my 5-year-old sister Natalie stepped up and said, “It was me, Dad.” I had never felt such relief in my life. I remember hearing her get in a lot of trouble as I went skipping away to play.
I know that this seems rather ridiculous since it had happened 12 years before. But I simply could not get the guilty feeling to go away. No matter how many times I tried to put the thoughts out of my mind, I knew that the only way to feel better was to call Natalie and apologize. I will never forget her laughter as she listened to me sob and offer my heartfelt apology over the peanut butter incident. And I will also never forget the immediate relief and calm I felt after making that confession just like my teacher had said. I found that it is much easier to confess our faults rather than carry the burden.
