Friday, September 20, 2013

The same ... multiplied ...

Marlene Terry
Not all memories are good.
Sometimes things that embarrass you to tears, make you want to fall into a hole and disappear and those that make you sick to your stomach to think about, are etched forever in your mind only to be resurrected when a comment or action brings them up close and personal once again.

Take a Facebook post I read a day ago.

A friend of mine was upset that her sweet little daughter was miserable after being made fun of for several days by some mean boys at school.
For her daughter, it was her cute new, short haircut that was responsible for the chiding. For me, when I was about the same age, it was the fact that I was chubby, homely and not at all the most popular kid on the block.

My two best friends were considered the same. And we formed a bond in order to ward off the affect of jokes and the unkind treatment by, ESPECIALLY, the boys in our class.

It was always a day in the spring, that I and my friends would ask permission from our parents to walk home from school instead of riding the bus.

Our school was out in a lovely green valley filled with farms and ranches. So many of our classmates were farm kids. And at first look would have been considered the "salt of the earth" hardworking type of preteens.
Most were. But there were a few ... bullies, who found joy in picking on and making miserable those who really just wanted to be left alone. ... Me!

On one of those warm, spring days, Albert ... I won't mention his last name, although I DO remember it, and his image in EVERY detail ...  rode his horse to school. A corral/pasture was maintained there for use by just such kids.

I and my friends were about half way home, when the sound of horses hooves coming towards us got our attention.
We knew what was coming. It had happened before. And we took off running as fast as we could, hoping to find a place where we could disappear for a moment and let Albert pass by.

Of course he was looking for us. It was uncanny that he always knew when we, the poor unsuspecting NERDS, were walking home.
He'd leave school when we did. But first he'd take the time to collect in a bucket, the fresh horse droppings left during the day in the pasture.
Then he'd ball up the poop with his bare hands (makes me sick to think about it) and when he found us he'd use those balls to pelt us, unmercifully.

Here's the part where I can pause and say to my friend and her daughter with certainty, "Don't despair!"
One day those who make misery for others will be visited upon with the same ... exponentially!

I only say that because, how else could you explain what happened that day?
With his stinky bucket in hand and gaining on us atop his horse, Albert, had no time to prepare. Suddenly and out of nowhere a large snake appeared, spooking the horse, that then rared up, bucked and dumped Albert off ... HARD!

... And his bucket? ... Spewed ALL of its contents LIBERALLY and in every place imaginable ... on the sobbing dumpee!

As I said ... the same multiplied ... ... exponentially!

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