34 
I Want to Be Good Like Daddy Said

A week later Amanda came upon Betsy sitting alone and quiet on the first-floor stair landing.

Amanda approached. “You look like you’re thinking about something,” she said.

Betsy glanced up toward her.

“I have two ears that are available for listening if you would like them,” Amanda added, sitting down beside her.

“I was thinking about something my daddy once said to me,” said Betsy.

“What did he tell you?”

“That he wanted me to grow up to be a good girl.”

“That is good advice,” smiled Amanda. “And do you want to be?”

“Yes . . . I want to be good like Daddy said my mother was.”

It was quiet a moment or two.

“I was also remembering,” Betsy added, “what you said about things growing in my heart.”

Amanda took in Betsy’s words with surprise, though she did not show it. She had not suspected that the serious things they discussed had penetrated into the girl’s consciousness. At Betsy’s age, it was difficult to tell what she was thinking, and to distinguish between the child-girl oblivious to life’s meaning, and the slowly dawning woman awakening within her that was beginning to be drawn by deeper currents.

As Amanda sat quietly at Betsy’s side, a silent prayer rose within her. Lord, she prayed, whatever Betsy needs at this moment, give me the right words.

At last she turned toward Betsy. “Do you know something, Betsy?” said Amanda. “Your daddy was a wise man to tell you to be good. But do you know that you can’t be good all by yourself? You need someone’s help.”

“Whose?”

“Do you remember Mr. Diggorsfeld from London?”

Betsy nodded. “Can he help me be good?”

Amanda smiled. “Well, Mr. Diggorsfeld has helped me,” she said, “and he has helped our whole family. But the greatest help he has given us is to tell us about someone else. Do you remember when he told you about the man called Jesus?”

“Yes. I remember him saying that he lived in people’s hearts, though I still cannot understand it. I don’t think my daddy knew about Jesus.”

“Neither did my daddy until Mr. Diggorsfeld told him. But he does now. And maybe your father knows about Jesus now too. What Mr. Diggorsfeld said,” Amanda went on, “is that when Jesus lives in our hearts, he helps us to become better children, and better men and women. So, Betsy, Jesus is the one who helps us become good.”

“My daddy told me to find people who would help me be good.”

“That was wise of him to say. Jesus is that person, though your father didn’t know it before he died. He is the only one who can.”

“How does he do it?”

“You have to ask for his help,” replied Amanda.

“But didn’t Mr. Diggorsfeld say we couldn’t see him?”

“Yes, but he can still help us . . . inside.”

A puzzled look came over Betsy’s face.

“There is a garden in your heart, Betsy. And if you ask him to come live there, Jesus will be the gardener and will make good things grow in it and help take out the ugly, nasty weeds.”

Amanda paused and looked at Betsy. When she spoke again, her voice was tender.

“Do you know that there are weeds growing in the garden of your heart?” she said. “The weeds are called sin. We all need Jesus’ help to get rid of those weeds so that good flowers will grow. You’re not as good as you want to be, are you, Betsy?”

Betsy shook her head.

“Neither am I,” said Amanda. “I am not good at all. But I want to be too, just like you do. You have told me that there is hatred growing in your garden.”

“My heart doesn’t feel like there are good flowers growing in it,” said Betsy sadly.

“You’re right. Hatred is a dreadfully ugly weed,” rejoined Amanda. “And it will ruin your whole garden if you do not get rid of it. It is not very pretty, just like selfishness and meanness. All those weeds were growing in my garden too. I was not a nice person at all, Betsy. I was mean and cranky and disrespectful.”

“You!”

“Yes—I wasn’t very nice at all.”

“Are those weeds gone now?” asked Betsy. “They must be, because you are one of the nicest people I have ever known.”

“Thank you, Betsy,” smiled Amanda. She put her arm around the girl and drew her close. Betsy let her head rest on Amanda’s shoulder. “They are not completely gone. But Jesus helps me every day to pull a few more weeds out of my garden to make room for the flowers he is growing inside me.”

“Does he pull the weeds out for you?”

“No, we have to pull out our own weeds.”

“I don’t know how to.”

“He helps us.”

“How?”

Amanda thought a moment.

“I was a very selfish girl for most of my life,” she went on. “I thought about no one but myself for so many years that the weed of selfishness became a very big weed with very deep roots. The selfishness weed grew so big within me that there was hardly room for anything else to grow. It is not the kind of weed that can be pulled out all at once. And Jesus wants me to pull it out because that is part of what he wants me to learn, how to put others first instead of myself. But even though he doesn’t pull that weed out for me, every time I reach down to try, he places his hand on top of mine and gives me the strength to pull up the sin-weed a little more. So Jesus and I are working hard together to get selfishness out of me. And I hope that one day soon, if I keep trying and keep letting him help me, that the weed of selfishness will be gone from the garden of my heart. The roots may never come out altogether, and may keep sprouting tiny selfishness weeds all my life. But with the main weed gone, I will be able to pull those out myself whenever they start to grow. That’s how it is with all my sin-weeds. Jesus can’t just make them go away. I have to stoop down and grab hold of them first, then he helps me.”

“Why can he help pull them and we can’t?” asked Betsy.

“Because Jesus is God’s Son, and because he died for us,” replied Amanda. “That gives him a very special kind of power over sin that we do not have. The Bible says that he has conquered sin and can save us. Because of that, he can conquer it within us too. And the way he conquers sin within us is to help us conquer it ourselves by helping us pull out our own sin-weeds. That is why he is called our Savior. He has saved us from sin and can help get rid of the sin in our lives. He can also help you forgive the men who killed your father.”

“It all sounds confusing,” said Betsy.

Amanda smiled. “At first, perhaps,” she said. “But once you get to know Jesus, then it is wonderful. Let me try to explain it another way—you see, because Jesus died for us, he forgives all our sin—your hatred and my anger toward my father. Do you remember when Mr. Diggorsfeld said that Jesus took our sin to the grave with him?”

Betsy nodded.

“But the weeds of that sin are still growing in our hearts. So though God has forgiven us, we must still pull out the weeds. And when we invite him into our hearts, he helps us. He forgives you for your hatred, and he will help you get rid of it by helping you forgive those men. And with the hate-weed gone, even when it starts to be gone, he will begin to grow nice-smelling flowers inside you instead—flowers like kindness and goodness and happiness.”

Betsy thought a moment or two. Amanda said nothing. For a long minute they sat quietly together.

“I would like him to live in my heart,” said Betsy at length. “I want to get rid of the weeds so I can be a lady—a good lady like you, Amanda.”

At the words, Amanda’s heart stung her, and tears quickly rose to her eyes. She drew in a deep breath and blinked them back.

“You would like to invite Jesus into your heart like Mr. Diggorsfeld said?” she said.

Betsy nodded.

Amanda rose, wiping at her eyes. “Betsy,” she said, “let’s you and I go up to the secret room in the garret and pray there together.”

Betsy stood. Amanda offered her hand and led her to the library. Hand in hand they walked through the bookcases into the secret corridor. Moments later they were making their way through the now familiar hidden corridor toward the topmost portions of Heathersleigh Hall.