Anne Learns a Valuable Lesson
Anne Learns a Valuable Lesson
by Beckie O’Neill
Anne Shirley awakened to a song sparrow’s melody and aroma of cherry blossoms outside her bedroom window. It had been one year since the elderly brother and sister residing at Green Gables adopted her from an orphan asylum. Anne knelt by her bed and wrote:
I’m abundantly happy to live here. I’m grateful for my bedroom in the east gable, even though its whitewashed walls have just one little mirror to adorn it, its bare floor is hardly warmed by this round braided mat, and its furnishings simply consist of a high bed and feather tick, a three-legged, three-cornered table, washstand, and one window with its skimpy white frill.
Public domain image from commons.wiki.org
Oh dear, what have I done? I’ve started to count my blessings sounding anything but grateful. Heavenly Father, won’t you please allow me to begin again? Even though my tick is hard to smooth when I make my bed, it nonetheless keeps me warm. My mirror reveals a skinny girl with gray-green eyes, freckles and bright red hair instead of a boy. My candle sheds all the light I need each night to undress, fold my clothes, and don my nightgown. And even though my curtain provides next to no prettiness which my youthful soul so seeks, I can create bouquets of pussy willows to cheer any dreariness in my heart.
I’m abundantly grateful for my dearest bosom buddy, Diana, nearly twelve years of age as am I. To her, I have sworn my loyalty in spite of the fact that I have, of late, begun to feel a growing resentment toward her because she, unlike me, is perfectly plump with dimples in her elbows, is not afflicted with bright red hair, and has been permitted to wear dresses with puffy sleeves. I wonder that she should be so privileged on all three of those accounts.
Anne made the sign of the cross twice - once to mark the end of her prayer log and again to erase the guilt for how poorly she constructed her gratitude list. She closed her diary on the blue-ribbon Diana graciously loaned her for a bookmark. Diana won it last August when showing her sorrel mare Angie at the County Fair. When Anne admired it, Diana had graciously extended it to Anne, “until you earn one yourself,” she had said and then added, “I’m proud of my award, but prouder of Angie who is my comfort and joy.”
Anne splashed water on her face, combed her hair, pulled her bedding back then bounded downstairs and bounced into the kitchen just as Matthew was preparing to go outdoors to complete his morning chores. Marilla was at the stove stirring oatmeal.
“Oh Matthew and Marilla, I want to express my deepest gratitude to you for taking me in and treating me so lovingly, well, if not lovingly, for at least feeding and clothing me and tolerating my penchant for being long winded, which I am working on, though by your expression, Marilla, I see I still have some work to do. I am also most obliged to you, Marilla, for helping me complete my cross stitch today in time to enter it in the Annual Avonlea Sewing Contest. Of course, I hold out hope that my stitches will earn me a blue ribbon but I oughtn’t aim so high. I would be happy, of course with a yellow. Um, I see by your look Marilla that I ought not aim for any reward except the good feeling of completing a job well done.”
“And, to you Matthew, I am most especially grateful for your promise to buy me my first dress with puffy sleeves for my birthday in two days.”
Matthew, with his long grey hair and brown beard, stood silently by the door fretting the brim of his hat.
“Having puffy sleeves, like Diana,” continued Anne, “will bring me untold amounts of joy. Of course, even if you didn’t offer to buy me a dress, Matthew, I would still be eternally grateful to you for hanging the swing for me in the apple orchard and for being so easy to talk to.”
Tall, thin Marilla set her spoon down and wiped her hands on her apron. “All right young lady, that’s quite enough,” she said. “Your verbosity and vocabulary make me dizzy sometimes. You haven’t had breakfast yet and still need to do the breakfast dishes before we sit down to complete your project. Matthew is going to drop it off at the Grange Hall when he goes to town for turnip seed.” Marilla tucked an errant lock of graying hair into the tight hard knot atop her head with the frustration of one unaccustomed to having anything dare to disobey her directions. “We of course are glad that you joined us one year ago,” Marilla continued. “You have certainly brightened our lives.” At this her cheeks blushed.
Mid-morning when Anne, with Marilla’s guidance, completed her sampler of colorful flowers twice encircling a house, Anne tried to hide her pride by quickly offering to sweep the porch of their big white farmhouse.
As she swept, Anne considered the fun that lay ahead. She and Diana had spent the prior week planning to meet that day at three for high tea. They would rendezvous at their playhouse in the white birch grove which Anne had christened Idlewold. There they would celebrate Anne’s birthday as Diana would be away on the actual day. Diana was to bring the hot beverage and Anne the cookies.
At their appointed spot, Anne arrived a few minutes early. From the broken china dishes stacked on a board stretched between trees, Anne selected the largest piece with its pattern of red and yellow ivy. She arranged her molasses cookies on the plate then sat down on a large, moss-covered stone to wait. She waited while the wind gently blew, while she counted yellow dandelions in the green grass beyond and while the lilac trees nearby sweetened the air with their fragrance.
Anne became impatient. She frowned about Diana’s dimpled elbows, black hair, and wardrobe with puffy sleeved dresses. Anne trudged toward Orchard Slope where Diana lived. She cut across the brook, up the hilly grove, past the log bridge and spied Diana sitting in the field stroking her mare lying beside her.
Livid, Anne ran home recalling how Diana called Angie her comfort and joy while Anne meanwhile considered Diana her “kindred spirit” with whom she could confide her “innermost soul.”
Up the stairs and into the east gable Anne stormed. She grabbed the scissors from her sewing basket, opened the dairy, yanked out Diana’s blue ribbon, and without hesitation, cut it in half.
Triumphantly, she strode downstairs just as Matthew walked through the front door calling to Marilla who came from the pantry holding a baking dish.
“Marilla and Anne, I stopped by the Barry’s on my way back from town and learned Diana’s mare fell ill last night and had to be put down this afternoon.”
Marilla shook her head while Anne gasped and began to cry.
“Oh, that must be why Diana couldn’t meet me today. And to think I doubted her friendship and loyalty. Oh, I’ve done the most wretched thing,” Anne wailed.
“What is it girl?” Marilla asked.
“I was jealous and let envy poison my thinking. While I blamed Diana for neglecting me, she, in fact, was in her darkest hour and in need of me. I’ve done a dreadful thing.” She dropped her head into her hands and cried.
“Anne, please gather yourself and tell us what you’re talking about,” insisted Marilla.
“Diana and I had planned to have a delightful time at Idlewold. She was to bring tea and I was to bring cookies which is why six molasses cookies are missing from the cookie jar. I waited today and when she didn’t show, I spotted her in the field with Angie and thought she was choosing Angie over me. I fear I let my anger run off without reins. To pay her back, I cut the blue ribbon in half that she had entrusted to me. Yet, it is I who proved to be untrustworthy.” Tears streamed down Anne’s face.
Matthew coughed, shifted in his chair then reached deep into his pants pocket and extracted a blue ribbon, “You won this for your sampler, Anne. After I shopped at the Mercantile, I returned to the Hall where they had finished the judging.”
Anne raised her head and brushed away tears before accepting the ribbon. “I haven’t felt this sad and happy at the same time since I expected to be farmed out to another family but then learned you and Marilla decided to keep me. I know what I must do. Please may I visit Diana now?” Anne posed to Marilla who nodded and said, “Be back in time for dinner.”
Anne ran out the door and along the short cut to Diana’s house.
When Mrs. Barry opened the door, Anne pleaded, “Please may I see Diana straightaway?”
Diana’s mother pointed to the back porch where Diana was rocking in the swing. With hair as black as ever, Diana’s dark eyes looked red and her usual rosy cheeks were wan.
“Oh Diana, I’m so sorry about your loss,” said Anne. “You must be so sad.” Anne hugged her friend then extended her hand. “Here’s a blue ribbon to remind you of what you won with Angie due to your tender loving care.”
That night Anne knelt by her bed to say good night to the things she loved. As a cherry tree bough tapped against the house, she earnestly stated, “Thank you Snow Queen, my lovely cherry tree. Thank you, Bonny, the apple scented geranium on the window sill downstairs. Thank you, White Way of Delight for your magnificent spread of flowering apple trees, thank you Lake of Shining Waters, the pond which wraps around Barry’s orchard. Most especially thank you Diana for the sweetest gift of all, the reminder to be kind and let go.