O, what joy! We never dreamed we would ever get a voice after all these years locked away and shot down.
We are Bruce Leane's worn out teeth, discarded spectacles, stray bullets and the odd coin.
I speak first for teeth. When the box's lid is occasionally lifted, we three chatter and grind in unison, clambering for something to chew. We haven't had anything to eat, some of us for over forty years. If Bruce doesn't want us, we would be better in landfills or even the undertaker who has a business for unwanted parts.
Number One set, I can tell you it was some deal getting pushed into Bruce's raw, bleeding mouth. He might complain about the pain, but what about the blood, gore and misery I've had had to endure. No decent food to chew on for weeks.
Boy, can we tell a few tales about what he's been up to, tasting this and that? Using us as bottle openers, chewing things he wasn't supposed to. No wonder his natural teeth fell out. They couldn't stand the stress and misuse. Don't mention the word lollies; he would pinch them from anywhere, even when he lost his sweet tooth. The result of all this sugar was diabetes.
There were the good times, though, like nibbling Gwen's soft neck and ears.
Set Number Two: I heard the dentist tell him to stop grinding his teeth all the time.
Being a preacher and bearing the burdens of the flock is enough to make anyone grind their teeth down to nothing.
Set Number Three: I was meant to be the best because I cost the most. But Bruce never loved me. He accused me of not chewing correctly; he said I never bit the food or meshed with each other. The tucker was only bruised, and he suffered indigestion after eating. Well, we tried.
Spectacles are my name. But I'm better known as just glasses.
O, to see again, I was born to see how I hate this box. I've been down-graded because I am not strong enough. Bruce has done too much reading in the dark and looking into bright sunlight. Besides, when Gwen’s at the computer, Bruce is at the TV.
I was never given any respect even though I gave Bruce back his sight. Bruce couldn't read the blackboard at school and always had to sit in the front row until I came along. Then he became real clever. He said he could see the leaves on the trees and the birds. Now there's a thing, Birds! I better not tell tales because if I'm good, I might get sent to Africa so a blind person there can see.
I have spent a lot of time reading the Bible with Bruce. I read about the adventures of Christ. Before the world was created, he helped Father God make the universe and all in it.
I read the story of his birth and his short but incredible life. I read how he died to save the world from its love of sin. The world loves to sin. But the world doesn't want to be protected from corruption.
When I read about Jesus and how he carried my sin on the cross and that of the whole world, I cried and said, 'Jesus, you can live in my heart and be my life. 'Today, Jesus is alive in me. The only way I can bear to live in this box is by the power of the risen Jesus.
I read an extraordinary passage in the Bible; please read it with me. 'But the things I once thought very worthwhile – now I've thrown them all away so that I can put my trust and hope in Christ alone. I have put aside everything, counting it value-less. So that I can have Christ and become one with him. No longer counting on being saved by being good enough or by obeying God's laws. Trusting Christ to save me. God's way of making us right with himself depends on faith – counting on Christ alone. Yes, everything else is worthless compared to the priceless gain of knowing Christ Jesus, my Lord.
It no longer seems unfair to be just discarded and locked away. The bullets want to shoot off at their mouth. The coins want to go shopping, but life in this box can be lived powerfully by Christ living in me. I helped Bruce read the Bible, but I discovered Jesus and accepted his salvation.
Alas, time is up; the lid is on and shut tight, but I am alive in Christ.