This story was told to me by an old man when I was a young mother.
When he was a young boy, his mother had a treasured antique lamp that had been in her family for several generations. It was always a house rule there was to be no rowdy playing in the house. While alone in the house, the boy entertained himself by playing “fetch” with his dog by throwing a slipper. One throw went astray, the lamp tipped, and ended up in pieces on the floor. His heart sank, and he waited in dread for his mother’s return.
His mother came in, assessed the situation, and looked at the boy. ” I did it”, he admitted, and cringed as he awaited her anger and his punishment. “I’m going to teach you a lesson you’ll never forget” she said. He cringed again. “I could tell you about God’s grace” she said, “or I could show you how it works. I forgive you.” And she explained that grace costs the giver, and love doesn’t count the cost. She hugged him then. It was a lesson he would never forget.
