“The gift that I gave you, where is it? Tell me, how did you use it? Did it grow and multiply as I meant it to do?”

“Oh, thank you, Love, for your gift. I am so grateful for it. It has been such a comfort to me!”

“I’m glad of that; but did you share it?”

“No, Love, I was afraid. I thought it was little and rather dull and others would laugh at it. And I loved it too much to bear their laughter. So I hid it from them.”

“Could you not have polished it and tended it until it grew?”

“I was afraid it would be used up, or die. And then I’d be left with nothing at all! I couldn’t bear that either.”

“My child, is that the kind of gift I give?” And I could see the hurt in Love’s eyes.

“I’m sorry, Love, but I was afraid. Even of you.”

“I know.” And I felt Love’s tears. They seemed to burn in my soul till I cried:

“Love, I’m still afraid. But I want to try. Help me, Love.”

A meditation on Matthew 25:14-30

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