Envy is a symptom of lack of appreciation of our own uniqueness and self worth. Each of us has something to give that no one else has. - Elizabeth O'Connor
Lucy cried as she ran toward her chambers. Hoping no one saw her tears, she ran and slammed the door behind her. She let out a sob now that she was alone.
After a minute, the tears were gone, replaced with anger and embarrassment. How she had been played for a fool! She should have known. She wasn't pretty enough or smart enough or talented enough to garter affections from any man. Who would even think of looking at little Lucy Pevensie, especially when her sister was still unwedded? Obviously not Lord Orim, who had been "courting" her the last few weeks. Apparently his only intent was to gain favor with Susan and so he used Lucy to achieve that end.
Lucy didn't harbor any ill will towards Susan. It isn't her fault that men are beasts, she thought savagely. However, the seeds of doubt and insecurity were sown. Running to the mirror, Lucy examined herself from every angle.
She was still half a head shorter than Susan and unfortunately she wasn't likely to ever overtake her. I suppose men like taller women. Her hair was a boring yellow, not at all striking like Susan's lustrous raven locks. She stroked her braid, but then glared at it. Of course men want someone with beautiful hair; why would they pick plain old yellow when they could have beautiful black hair? She threw her braid back over her shoulder. She wasn't as pretty as Susan; that much had been obvious to her for ages. She had long ago accepted that she was the ugly sister. However, it had never bothered her like this.
It wasn't just the fact that Susan was the more beautiful sister. She was also much more interesting. Susan knew how to flirt and be coy and do all the right things to attract a man. She was witty and smart and loving. Any man that was near her fell under her spell almost at once. All Lucy knew how to be was funny. She was the one to make everyone laugh and be happy; what was so special about that? She was only a clown, the entertainment. Who would ever want her? She was inferior to Susan in every way.
Now her anger was replaced by despair. Lucy fell on her bed, crying that she'll only ever be Susan's ugly little sister.
The seventeen-year-old girl wept for a very long time. Sometime later, worn out from the day, she fell asleep.
When she opened her eyes, she found herself lying in a huge open meadow, bordered by a forest on one side, and a lake far to the other. The sea of tall, thin grass surrounding her rippled in the light breeze. It was a serene place, the exact opposite of the chaotic state of her mind. She sighed, taking comfort in the peace, wishing she wouldn't wake up and have to leave this place.
"Do you like it?" a voice called out, a little behind Lucy.
She shot up and looked around. A young woman was walking toward her. She looked to be a little older than Lucy, perhaps not yet twenty. What caught Lucy's attention was her strange attire. She wore a long tunic with a long cord wrapped around it to tie it to her body. Her hair was covered with a simple scarf.
"Hello?" she said uncertainly. "Who are you?"
"I was sent here to talk to you, Lucy," the woman said.
"How do you know my name?" Lucy asked.
The woman laughed. "He told me."
"Aslan sent you?" Lucy asked.
The woman thought for a moment. "Yes… and no."
"What do you mean by that?" Lucy asked.
The woman didn't answer. "So what is troubling you, young one?"
Lucy balked at the name. "Young one? You can't be five years older than me!"
The woman laughed. "I am much older than you think! All of you are young ones to me."
Lucy was confused, but decided not to question her further. Most likely all she would get was another cryptic answer.
"Again I ask," the woman said. "What troubles you?"
"My sister," Lucy admitted. When the woman's hand took her shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze, it was all it took for the dam to break. Lucy found herself confessing everything to this stranger: her humiliation, her jealousy, why she felt inferior. It was difficult to speak the words at first, but soon they came quickly. The entire time the woman did not speak, but was merely a calm presence. Once she was finished, Lucy felt better. It was as if she had begun to let go of some great weight. It wasn't gone completely, but it felt nice to just talk about it to someone.
The woman gave Lucy a long, sad look when she had finished talking. "I know only too well what you speak of."
"You were rejected by men for your sister?" Lucy asked.
"Indeed. I feared forever being unmarried. No man wanted me, not even my own husband."
Lucy looked at her in shock. "What do you mean?"
The woman turned to fully face Lucy. "I have heard your story. Would you like to hear mine?" Lucy nodded eagerly.
"It began a long time ago. A young man had come to my father's camp, asking for work and refuge. He saw my sister and fell very deeply in love with her. He agreed to work seven years in exchange for her hand. My father agreed. However, on the wedding day, I replaced my sister; I wore a veil so that my husband would not realize the deception. The next day, he found me and not my sister. Oh, how furious he was! He immediately confronted my father and another agreement was made: to marry my sister, he would work another seven years."
"What?" Lucy gasped. "He would divorce you?"
"No," the woman said. "I was still his wife. He had two now. I know you do not understand, but our customs were very different from yours and having more than one wife was acceptable. In fact, it was encouraged by many."
"But I don't understand why your father married you first. Wouldn't it have been better to have honored the original agreement?"
The woman shook her head. "No. I was the elder sister. If my sister had married before me, no one would have wanted me. It was the only way to save me from the shame that would have come otherwise."
"So what happened after your husband made the second deal with your father?" Lucy asked.
"He married my sister. Then he worked another seven years to pay that debt. We stayed for many years after that, until my husband's goat herd rivaled that of my father's. Then we left to prevent jealousy from causing some impossible family rift.
"We traveled for many years. During then and even before, I bore my husband many sons. I sometimes advised him, though I had to be careful not to overstep my boundaries. I took care of the household. Still, he loved my sister much more than me. She was barren for a long time. She refused to accept his God the way I did. I was jealous. I tried to do everything to gain his favor: I gave him many sons, I accepted his God, I was dutiful and obedient. Still, it was not enough. When she conceived and gave him a son, he was considered more important than any of the others. How could I not be bitter against both my husband and my sister? She had everything, I thought.
"But I promised my husband that I would take care of the boy and treat him as the favored son. It was a sour potion to swallow, but I did it.
"My sister died giving birth to her second son. My husband again favored him above the others, but still I promised again. Despite everything, I was still not good enough for him. I didn't have his love. Or so I thought."
"What do you mean?" Lucy asked.
"One day, years after my sister's death, my husband and I were taking a morning walk; this had been our custom for many years. However, I collapsed. I was taken to my tent and they realized I was very sick. My husband told me that I would be buried next to his mother. It was important because all the patriarchs and matriarchs, the heads of his clan, were buried there. While I thought I had little value in his life, in truth I was very important to him. In a way, I did have his love. It wasn't the same as my sister, but it was still a kind of love. All that time I had been striving for something and I missed what was in front of me."
"What happened to you?" Lucy asked, already guessing the answer.
"I died," the woman said calmly. "That is why I had to wait until you fell asleep. I could only talk to you through dreams. The divide between Narnia and the Other Place is difficult to navigate, even if it solely between the living."
"But why did you come to me?" Lucy asked.
"Because I could see that you need to understand. Lucy, you are much more than you think. Though you might not see it right now, you do have worth. You are Aslan's child after all. I was so focused on what I thought I didn't have, I failed to see what I did. Do not make my mistake, dear Lucy. See how precious you are. You bring joy to so many. Do not cry tears over a man that is not worthy of your heart. One day there will come someone who will treat you like the queen that you are. He will make you see the beautiful and special person that everyone else can see."
As the woman spoke, the weight on Lucy, all the guilt and pain, was lifted. There was still a little bit however.
"You still have doubts?" the woman asked. Lucy gave a tiny nod of her head. "Well, I didn't expect my words to cure everything. This will be something you must struggle with. Lean on Aslan; he will never lead you astray. The hurt and pain will still linger, but do not let them fester. I believe that you will heal sooner than you think." She gently kissed Lucy's forehead, then sighed. "I'm afraid that I must return to my own world now. I hope you feel better now."
"I do. Thank you." They both rose and Lucy gave a sniff. She didn't want this kind woman to go.
"If ever you doubt yourself, look in here," she pointed to Lucy's chest. "It will help you remember."
Lucy nodded, holding back a tear as the woman began walking into the horizon. Yes, there was still a little hurt left, but she knew that it would heal with. Aslan was with her and would never let her fall.
Suddenly she realized something. "Wait! You never told me your name!" she called after the stranger. For a moment she worried that the woman hadn't heard her. Then she turned around and gave Lucy a small smile.
She spoke quietly, though Lucy still heard every word. "I am called Leah."
Yes, it is biblical Leah, but I took the interpretation of her story from the book Leah by James R. Shott, which is an in-depth narrative of Leah's life and is quite a good read.
The title is a play on words, since the name Lucy means light and the name Leah means sorrow. Lucy's berating thoughts and her almost-complete acceptance at the end are both based off of personal experience; the story idea was set off by The Voyage of the Dawn Treader and how Lucy wanted to be more beautiful than Susan. I then remembered another sister who must have dealt with jealousy and decided the two should meet.
Hope you all enjoyed!