Millie Still Writes For the Paper

            It had been a while. Seemed like months had gone by since a reader had sent in a question to ask Ralph. This one was a poser. I kept drinking my coffee, thinking about it.
            I knew very little about this reader. She did’t introduce herself like so many of them had. All I had was a name. Lisa. T. Probably a female, right? No idea of her age.
What she said was: “Ask him, since he is so magnificently wise and serene, and can see through time and the forest, to explain what he knows about forgiveness.”
            This sounded to me like a bare question, stripped of all its supporting context. I wondered if she would take the answer back to someone and say, “See, it says right here...” Etc.
            I could but take the question to himself, and see what he made of it and report back to Lisa T. and anyone else who happened to read my column. His advise is usually well received. We shall see.
When Maeve hit my window ledge with her familiar soft thump, I asked her to ask Ralph if I could meet him somewhere or take him for a drive and pick his brain about a reader’s question.
            The next day was a Saturday, so I suggested tomorrow.
            “I’m pretty sure you can assume that’s fine,” said Maeve. “I’ll come back if it’s not. I’ll tell him you’ll be at the parking spot tomorrow morning. Then I’ll fly over and let him know you’re there.”
            “Thanks, Ma’am, I’ll be there unless I hear differently,” I told her.
I didn’t hear differently.
            So, first thing that Saturday morning I dressed for the woods, smooched Colin, and headed out to get some treats for the family. But, when I got to the store, I thought that the last thing they really needed were some of the goofy fruits of human commercial culture.
            It occurred to me that Ramona might rather have some useful practical supplies. With that thought in mind, I gathered up a couple dozen eggs, 4 lbs of butter, salt, sugar, pepper, onions, a 20lb sack of flour, and raisins. I knew they all loved raisins. You can’t pick those off bushes in the meadow!
            The sun had been up for an hour when I arrived at the wide spot on 20. Mist was still rising, and things were drying off.
            Maeve swooped by and then headed back into the forest. In a couple of minutes Ralph appeared.
            “Hey, Millie! Where’ve you been! Good to see you!” he said happily.
            “Oh, you know, working for the local rag, keeping house, and not going anywhere, I guess. You look well! Ramona takes good care of you!” I said.
            And he did look well! No matter how many times I saw Ralph, it was always kind of a shock how massive he was, how darkly shiny, and how he seemed to have an atmospherere of joy surrounding him. He grins a lot too.
            “I brought some things for Ramona. In the back seat there. I’ll wait, if you want to run them down to her, and tell her love from me!” I said.
            “Good idea!” Ralph said.
I sat and watched a few cars drive by, heading east or west. In about ten minutes,
he was back.
            “Mona was very glad to see those things! She sends her love back. Cherry says “Hi!’” he said, while carefully arranging himself in the passenger seat of the Escalade. He fastened the seat belt, but he thinks it’s funny to be tied in like that.
            “Help, help! I’m a test monkey,” he cried.
            “Me too,” I laughed.
            “Where do you want to go?” I said.
            “Let’s just go park up the forest road where we can look out over the land,” said Ralph
            “OK. Sounds nice,”
            I got back out on 20 and took the corner northward onto the nearest forest road. It was a familiar short trip to some pretty fancy scenery. Up there in a certain spot you could see just a bit of Puget Sound on the horizon.
            Parked, I said, “One of my readers asked me to ask you what you think about foregiveness. She didn’t say why she wanted your take. I feel almost like she has a point to make with someone, maybe.”
            “Huh, yeah. I see what you mean. Why ask me? She has all the facilities of mankind to refer to, and yet she wants to know what I think,” mused Ralph.
            He looked out over the landscape silently for a few minutes.
            “I have two main ideas about forgiving. Humans have a tough time with this, so maybe it makes sence to ask me, since I’m related to you guys, but not just the same.
            “First thing. Forgiving is constructive. It repairs a broken place. It makes it possible to continue. So the town is big enough fer the two of you.
            “There’s also something about authority. To not forgive is to assume authority over a situation yourself. You have to know who’s in charge. Is it you, or the Maker of All? He says you’re not the boss, give over. Let it be, right?
            “There is such a thing as being in authority under a higher authority, but maybe that’s not what she needs to hear about right now. I have the feeling that she is very angry at someone and needs to know what to do with that anger,” he said.
            “I think you’re right about that,” I agreed.
            “It’s hard to explain in English what I mean sometimes. Not my first language. Saslingua, is less mechanical, more about internal states. But, anyhow, I’ll try. This isn’t really big deal stuff. It’s everyday level.
            “Tell her that when she looks at the face of someone who has offended her, perhaps for years and very badly, that she has a choice. She can say to herself, “Whatever there is, there, is all there is, and it’s enough. I don’t require more. The question is over. I’ve drawn a line under it.
            “Then she might have another choice, to hang around or not, but at least the wound can close. She might have to forgive the same thing over and over until her own heart believes it,” he said at last.
            “You know what I think, Ralph? I think Lisa’s beef must be with one of your fans!” I said.
            “I bet you’re right! That would explain why she wants my words!” He laughed softly. “It’s odd to have fans, Millie.”
            We looked across the land from our vantage point for a while. Then I remembered that I had a big unopened bag of Gummi Bears in the pocket behind his seat.
            I pulled them out and showed him. “Remember?”
            “I sure do, Millie. I sure do!” Ralph said.
            “You should take them home to Cherry and Mona,” I said, starting the engine up.
            I drove him back home.

            Like a living dream, I watched him walk back into the forest.
            “I’ll tell her what you said, Ralph,” I whispered to the spot where he had been. “You bet I will!”
            Then, I drove back down 20, turned onto 530 and went home.
            Monday, I wrote it up. I hoped she could hear it.

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