A Slithering Snake in The Grass...

Dear Readers,

Thomas and Clara were the picture of marital bliss or so it seemed. For ten years, they built a life together in the small town of Whosville. Thomas was a quiet, kind-hearted man, known for his craftsmanship as a carpenter. Clara was lively, with a wit as sharp as a blade and a smile that could charm anyone.

But behind closed doors, Clara had a venomous side.

It began subtly. Small comments, veiled as jokes. “You’re so slow, Tom,” she’d say in front of friends, laughing while he forced a smile. “If only you could make money as fast as you make mistakes.” The laughter of others stabbed deeper than her words ever could.

Over time, Clara’s dissatisfaction grew into something more sinister. She began whispering rumors to their neighbors, planting seeds of doubt about Thomas’s character.

“He drinks more than he works,” she said to Mrs. Greaves at the market, though Thomas never touched a drop of alcohol in his life.

“I caught him looking at young women in town,” she confided to the pastor’s wife, feigning heartbreak. When Thomas Doesn’t do that.

“I think he’s losing his mind,” she murmured to their landlord, her voice heavy with faux concern.

The rumors spread like wildfire. Customers stopped coming to Thomas’s workshop. Friends crossed the street to avoid him. Even the local pub, his last refuge, turned cold.

Clara didn’t stop there. At home, her words became knives.

Thomas pleaded with Clara to stop. “Why do you say these things about me? Do you even know what it’s doing to me?” His voice cracked under the weight of despair.

“Look at you. A man who can’t even provide for his wife.” “Do us all a favor and disappear.”

Thomas’s spirit, once sturdy as oak, began to splinter. Alone in his workshop, he heard the echoes of Clara’s lies. Her voice followed him like a haunting specter, even when she wasn’t there. The weight of humiliation, isolation, and self-doubt bore down on him, crushing what remained of his will.

But Clara only scoffed. She continued her tirade, confiding in her friends Talbert and Marian about what a “loser” she had married. “He’s hopeless,” Clara sneered.

Talbert, ever quick to fan the flames, chuckled and said, “He’s just craving attention, Clara. Don’t let him drag you down. Don’t worry I’m there for you, even Marian would say the same.”

Their words, their laughter it all became a noose tightening around Thomas’s neck. The humiliation, the isolation, the relentless erosion of his self-worth broke him down piece by piece.

Thomas started thinking, that after Clara earned a psychology degree, she still couldn’t read between the fine lines with a degree.

One night, Thomas reached his breaking point. He left a note on the dining table:

“I’m sorry. Maybe this is what you wanted all along.”

Clara woke to find him on the floor Thomas had tried to hang himself from the rafters in his workshop, but fate had something else in store for him, cruel as ever, spared him. The rope snapped, leaving Thomas unconscious but alive.

When he opened his eyes in the hospital, he was greeted not with concern, but with Clara’s scorn.

“You can’t even kill yourself properly,” she spat on his face, and her words colder than the sterile walls around him.

In due course of time, things became worse. Even the children were brainwashed to stay away from Thomas thereby leaving a huge hole in his heart.

Thomas left Whosville soon after, disappearing into the obscurity of another town, another life. The scars on his neck remained, a grim reminder of how close he had come to the void.

As for Clara, the truth of her cruelty eventually surfaced. When neighbors pieced together the tragedy she orchestrated, they shunned her. Talbert and Marian distanced themselves from her, unwilling to share in her infamy. Her once-charming smile became a mask hiding the hollow life she had created for herself. Alone and embittered, she was left to face the silence she once wielded as a weapon.

Reflection

Slander and verbal abuse are not just words they are weapons capable of destroying lives. Clara’s betrayal of her husband stands as a chilling testament to the power of a vicious tongue. Sirach’s words echo hauntingly: “A whip can raise a welt, but a vicious tongue can break bones.”

May we be mindful of the words we speak and the harm they can cause, for some wounds are not visible, and their pain can echo far longer than we realize.

I saw this passage in the Bible.

“Gossips and liars deserve to be cursed because they have been the ruin of many people who were minding their own business. Many have had their lives ruined and have been driven from their homes because of people who meddled in their business. Such unwanted interference has resulted in the destruction of strong cities and the homes of respected people. Meddlers have caused faithful wives to be divorced, and robbed of everything they had worked for. Anyone who pays attention to slander can never find peace of mind. A whip can raise a welt, but a vicious tongue can break bones. More people have died as a result of loose talk than were ever killed by swords. Count yourself lucky if you have been spared the experience of having irresponsible talk directed against you if you have never had that iron yoke round your neck or those heavy chains on your legs. Slander leads to a miserable death; but in fact, you'd be better off dead.”

Sirach (Ecclesiasticus) 28:13-21 GNBC

“My advice, heed these words…”

“For Your Sins Will Seek You Out…”

Jacob M