Reset Password
Reset Link Sent
| Blogs > ribbit4U > Thank you |
|
How I became who I am. The little girl was all eyes: huge, alert, innocent, hazel eyes. Mostly everyone overlooked her. Once in a while though, a kind man on the street, at church, or at the supermarket would notice those absorbent eyes. With a quick wink and smile, these attentive men transformed that worried little face: her return wink was instantaneous and reflexive as was the accompanying impish grin. She always felt as if life was good when she was gifted with a wink. Women never winked. It wasn't their place in life. They were per functionary, preoccupied, distant. One time when she was eight, a new family visited her house. As she sat quietly at her father's feet, listening to the conversation, the husband part of the new family winked, leaned over, and said, "You know, you are a very pretty young lady." An uncharacteristic moment of obstinance overcame the quiet little girl and she blurted out sarcastically, "So what?!!" The man, startled by her rude answer, looked around, grimaced, and then slowly leaned back into his chair. At once the little girl's cheeks flamed red, her eyes filled, and she felt mortification at her rudeness. She had no idea about why she had responded so crassly to the kind visitor. Inside she was frozen and consumed with guilt for her poor behavior. Immediately she switched sides of the room and sat at the visitor's feet. After a few minutes, she proffered her fragile hand in apology. He graciously and gently accepted her plea and all was forgiven. Still, the little girl never ever could look that man in the eyes again for she knew that always his first impression of her was sullied and irrevocable. The shame of that dark moment lurks as her reminder that grace almost always settles better than obstinance. Almost always. 
|
|||
|
Who you are , is what I like . Those that can see past the girl , can appreciated what she is inside . I do . Amo
|
×
×