Deshavi stood at the sink washing dishes feeling, as usual, the deep awkwardness that she felt around anyone that knew. Knew what had happened to her. She glanced out of the corner of her eyes at Trent's mom, who was drying the dishes beside her. Ella was looking directly at her!
Deshavi quickly looked away blushing and in the process a dish slippery with soap slipped free of her hands and shattered in the sink.
"I'm so sorry! I'm such a klutz!"
"Oh stop it! I mean stop all of it!" Ella said with authority.
"What?" Deshavi asked uncertainly.
"You know what I mean honey." Ella said, as she started picking the pieces of the broken dish up. "If I had a nickel for every dish I've broken over the years I'd be able to afford the set of dishes that I've always wanted. If this dish was something I cared about I'd take the time and painstakingly glue it back together, but it's not. It's much the same with people. Those we care about we don't even think twice about giving of our time and resources to help them back up on their feet. Those people we don't like we typically don't invest any time in and perhaps only a few resources meant only to make us look good. I suppose it's a bad analogy to compare the two, because we as humans, more specifically Christians, should give equally of our time and wealth to anyone and not just those we like. I like you Deshavi, otherwise I wouldn't still be so happy to soon have you as my daughter."
Deshavi nodded somewhat moodily, "It's just that…. I feel different and I can't help, but feel that anybody, who knows about what happened to me would feel differently about me to."
Ella was quietly reflective, as she dried a dish off with a towel. "I supposed based on that logic I should feel differently about myself or even Trent for that matter."
Deshavi stopped washing the dish in her hand, "Why should you feel differently about yourself or Trent?"
Ella glanced over discerningly at Deshavi, "You aren't the first woman to experience rape Deshavi."
Deshavi stared at her in disbelief and Ella reached out and took the soapy dish away before it joined its broken companion.
"Trent is an outcome of that rape and yet he is still my son and I love him more than my own life. Should I look at him differently because of how he came to be? What choice did he have in the matter of his conception? Should he be forced to bear the shame of a sin that he didn't commit? Should I for that matter?"