Searching for Forgiveness (Daniel Carter's POV story)

 by Annabelle J.C. 

Daniel Carter sighed inwardly. He was tired of listening to his cousin, Andrea’s, brothers ramble on about horses, cattle, and other ranch business. He also sensed that his relatives were still feeling a bit uneasy about his presence. He hurried to finish his dessert and then stood. “I’d better be going. I have some work to finish up.” He turned to Andrea’s husband, Riely, whom he had been working for the past week. “With your say-so, boss?” he asked.

                Riely nodded and Daniel turned to leave.

                The ride to Memory Creek ranch didn’t last long. After unsaddling his horse, Daniel lit a lantern and sat on the barn floor to write. He had been writing journal entries since the start of his trip out west and he planned for this to be his last. Before leaving Memory Creek, he hoped to give his entries to Andrea as a gift and as proof of how sorry he felt over the wrongs he’d committed to her in the past. (this entry used by permission from Susan K. Marlow. Yosemite at Last: Pages 206-207.)

April 22, 1887. I’m writing this last entry in your barn by the light of what must be the worst lantern in California. It sputters and hisses, but the feeble light will not dissuade me from sharing my final thoughts. After tonight, I don’t intend to keep writing, for I will have said everything I wished to say. I arrived at Memory Creek less than a week ago, and just as I suspected, you acted suspicious. I don’t blame you, all things considered. I did remember when you said, “I forgive you” at the station that day, but I had no ears to hear it then. Worse, I had no words to thank you. I was too wrapped up in my own misery to care if you forgave me or not. 

Now, I realize how special your gift of forgiveness was. Let it be known, as God is my witness, that you and Riley will not regret giving me this chance to make things up to you. I aim to work hard and pull my weight so I can show you I’ve truly changed.

Whether you end up believing in my sincerity or not, I will be satisfied, for I know my sins have been washed away by Jesus’s blood. The old Daniel is gone. I’m a new creation. Forgiven. Cleansed. I have peace, Andrea. May His will be done regarding our relationship.

P.S. The rest of these entries were written during my trip out West and the first few days I have been on Memory Creek. When I leave your ranch, I intend to hand over this entire bundle. You will learn a lot about my journey over the past three years (and you’ll hear about the terrible food Sheriff Tate served during my six-month incarceration in the Fresno jail). I hope my writings give you insight and an occasional laugh. Your cousin, Daniel. 

                It didn’t take Daniel long to finish writing. He tucked the stationary he’d most recently used into a small metal box along with his other notes to Andrea. Giving a little sigh, Daniel stood up and paced around the barn, deep in thought. He reached his hand out to pet one of the horses, unaware of the lantern which he’d accidentally kicked over after getting up.

                It was only a few seconds before Daniel noticed smell of smoke in the air. He spun around and gasped. The hay on the floor had already caught on fire and was quickly spreading. Daniel hurried around the room in panic, looking for something, anything, he could use to put out the flames. He soon found a bucket of dirty rainwater, but it didn’t help much. He realized there was no way he could put out such a large fire on his own.

                Where are Riely’s other ranch hands? Daniel wondered. Surely, they would have smelled the smoke by now.

                Determined to do something to help in his situation, Daniel decided to begin freeing the horses, starting with Andrea’s horse, Shasta. He hurried to her stall where she loudly whinnied and paced about. Daniel reached for the door of Shasta’s stall but froze when he heard a crackling noise above him. He glanced upward just in time to see a burning rafter fall above him. Daniel yelped and hurried to get away, but it was too late. The last thing Daniel felt was the searing pain in his back as the bright flames engulfed him, and the last thing he saw was the horse he longed to free, Shasta.

◈◈◈

            As Andi read the last words Daniel had ever written, a sob caught in her throat. The leopard had changed its spots. Andi forgave Daniel more now than ever before, and she was eager for the day when she would tell him so in heaven.

            If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. 1 John 1:9.