Love is Stronger than Anger

My loving Grandmother was a person with such an unpredictable behavior; when she was still alive; one thing we would not do is to mess around with her temper, of which everyone, including us her grandchildren are much somewhat afraid of. When she is angry, she is fire itself, and the best thing to do is to stay out of the heat and let it naturally hopefully subside.

However, the young, the spoiled, and the restless are thoughtless, which is why she once became so enraged at me that she struck my hip with blazing firewood. It practically set me on fire when the burning portion of the stick shattered into bits. Aside from the ones on my lap, there were hot embers all over the table where I was sitting, and some of them even touched my thigh. I was just as enraged as she was throughout our dispute. I was just concerned with proving my point and my own wrath. 

 

 

I remained motionless and silent while feeling rebellious, disappointed, and angry. I felt that what she did was more terrible than any harm anyone could do to me, and the searing sensation in that area of my body was just a comfort. Standing in front of me, my grandma was anxious, and I could sense that she was unsure of what to do. She was aware of my emotional condition, and her own rage forbade her from speaking to or touching me. I was on fire, brimming with pride and rage, and hotter than a fiery coal.
She had to make a choice since she was running out of time.
I was taken aback when, even if it was somewhat expected, she hastily removed the flaming coals off my lap and my thigh with just her bare hands. It was obvious that her love for me outweighed her rage. I got up to leave, but before I did, I sarcastically said to her, "What? Is that all that you can do?

 

After the incident, she never got so angry at me again.