3 days ago
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Posted by Angela
One of the girls' favorite stories about "Mommy" is one I tell them every Christmas. It's a true story.
When I was four or five, I was chosen to perform in my church's Christmas program. I held a little candle and stood beside my friend, Brandon, who sang, Frosty the Snowman. He rocked it. I had to do good. After his big solo concluded and the applause finally dwindled, I stepped up to the microphone to sing Away in a Manger. I had practiced. I was ready. A few deep breaths, and I began belting out the first verse. I was hitting the notes. I was smiling like Grandma told me to. And all of a sudden, no less than five people rushed the stage, all of them, hitting me on top of the head.
I was concentrating so hard on my singing, I forgot about the candle in my hand and set my hair on fire. Solo over. (In my defense, who gives a four year old a candle?)
This Monday, I was brushing Estella Dru's hair, and she looked up at me and said, "Mama, I told all my friends your candle story." I laughed. She finished with, "I told them you used to have hair like Belle's, but when you set your hair on fire, it turned all black."
I couldn't help but laugh and then explained to her that while that was an excellent theory, it simply wasn't true.
The next day I happened to be in a room full of ladies and overheard a conversation between two people I did not know about another person (whom I also do not know). They were discussing a situation that had taken place, then making all sorts of assumptions and guesses as to "what really happened" or "what's going to happen next." I'm fairly certain they had no idea what they were talking about, but they were thoroughly entertaining themselves. And they didn't care who overheard.
I immediately thought about Estella and how she innocently added her own version of events to my true story. Clearly, no one was hurt by her assumptions, but how often do others get hurt when people openly discuss personal situations using suppositions instead of facts. It's a dangerous thing.
I was thankful in that moment for Estella Dru's reminder. If we have to find our entertainment in other people's trials, something needs to change.