i watched the girl through the window as she walked along the border of the stone fence separating the two pastures. her long brown hair went down in waves to her middle. she was tall for her age, almost as tall as i was, and skinny. i'd been watching her for the last few days. as she had done before, she walked down to the end of the wall and jumped over, walking along the road that went through my grandparents' land towards the edge of the woods at the country road. as before, she got down on her knees, despite her dress, and started digging. i watched, as transfixed as before. just like before, she took out a little piece of paper and, with a pained look on her face, wrote something on it and then buried it on the ground, covering it with the dirt until it looked like nothing had happened there. then, with a wan smile on her face, she started skipping back towards the wall, despite the fact that she seemed too old for skipping. she jumped over the wall again and walked back through the field and out of sight.
"who is that girl?" i'd asked my grandparents when i'd first seen her.
"hmm? oh, that's ami," my grandmother had replied. "pretty girl, isn't she? she's our neighbor's daughter."
"why does she always bury something in the ground by the woods?" i questioned.
"i don't know," shrugged my grandfather. "she's just always done that."
"we should dig them up," i suggested.
"no," they both cried at the same time.
i stared at them. "why ever not?"
"chris, whatever it is, it's not for our eyes," my grandmother pointed out. "she hasn't shared it with us, so it's not of our business. promise me you won't dig them up?"
"promise," i told them, though i didn't want to.
one year later
ami and i were good friends. i'd finally met her one day, when they were over for dinner. at first it was kind of awkward, but then it was alright and we could just be normal around each other. we had gotten to know each other pretty well. we could always tell when something was bothering the other person. we always talked to each other about these things, and about our hopes and dreams.
one day, i asked her about the papers.
"i remember when i used to watch you go to the woods and bury those papers," i started. "what did they say?"
my words made ami stop. i could see her lip quivering in fear. what had i done? what i had i said? what was wrong?
"you... you did?" she whispered.
i nodded. "yeah. what was that all about?"
she took a deep breath. "chris, you must promise never to tell anyone and never to open them up. do you promise?"
"i promise."
"i was burying my sins."
i stared at her. "what?"
she took another deep breath. "every time i remembered something bad i've done, instead of letting it haunt me, i wrote it down. and then i buried them. Jesus had paid for them, and they were dead. gone. that's why i buried them. it helped me, you know?" she gave me a shaky smile. "i'm still healing, though. but it's working. God's working. in me."
i slowly nodded. "alright. what made you think of doing that?"
"God," she told me immediately. "through my mom. she suggested it. but i know God was the one who told her. she said that some people can just mentally put them in a box and bury them. but for me, i really needed to bury them."
i smiled at her. "whatever happens, ami, whatever you've done, whatever's happening right now, i'll always be there for you."
she smiled. "i know. and i'll always be there for you, too."
we held hands--not awkwardly, but as friends, thirteen year old friends--and walked down the road together... skipping.
