2 Timothy 2:22
I may have mentioned that I was a bit of a brat when I was young. At least that is what many people thought. I was also a bit of a tattle tale.
My Aunt Lena and Uncle Stokes lived out in the “country” with my cousins. We spent a lot of time on the week-ends at their house. We had cook-outs, we had watermelon seed spitting contests, we enjoyed homemade ice cream. We also had fresh – and I mean fresh – vegetables. We would walk across the street to Uncle Stoke’s parent’s garden and pick Lima Beans in the morning, shell them in the afternoon, and have them for dinner that night. Life was laid back, simple, and family centered.
I enjoyed playing with my cousins, Jean and Allen. I thought we got along very well. We played house – I was always the mother. We played school – I was always the teacher. We played movie star – guess who the star was? I thought we played very well together. When I grew up, I learned that the only reason that these cousins played with me was because their mother made them. Same for my cousins Liz. Her mother, Aunt Tommie, also made her play with me. They didn’t enjoy being the child, the student, or the set mover when we played our games. I had no idea!
During the summer, my daddy and Uncle Stokes would sit on a glider in the yard. My cousins and I played all around them. We played Red Rover, Simon Says, Hide and Seek. Daddy and Uncle Stokes were home base. They never let our games keep them from talking. They could call us safe, call us for not saying Simon Says, or catch us for not keeping the rules without a break in their conversations.
One Saturday afternoon, the group of cousins were in the side yard in the “country” playing ball. Uncle Stokes was tending his garden close by. One of the boys – probably my brother, did something that didn’t seem just fair to me.
I took off running to “tell” Uncle Stokes about the injustice.
“Uncle Stokes”, I called as I ran to him.
Uncle Stokes turned around just as I stepped on the turned up garden hoe.
I don’t know if you have ever had the pleasure of meeting a garden hoe nose to nose, but it ain’t much fun. As I stepped on the edge of the garden tool, the handle popped up and whacked me dead center in the nose. BAM! It was not a fun site.
Uncle Stokes ran over and tended to me, took me into the house to have Aunt Lena continue the care. No one seemed to be concerned about what my brother had done to me. I was, however, reprimanded for tattling.
Believe it or not… they blamed me – not my brother – for my swollen nose. I couldn’t believe that someone thought that I was to blame…. I was such a perfect child – at least in my own mind. However, I’m sure that I heard Uncle Stokes sigh under his breath that I shouldn’t have been tattling as he walked back to his garden. And when I very pitifully made it back outside to play ball, not one of my cousins seemed to want to stop the ballgame to comfort me. What was up with that?
Thankfully, I made it through those difficult years. I don’t tattle much anymore. And, my cousins tell me, they even enjoy playing with me sometimes now. Good thing God and my mama were there to love me when I made it so hard for everyone else to!!!
Lord, sometimes lessons are hard to learn. Sometimes it takes age and maturity to realize that the universe doesn’t spin around only us. Thank you for sticking with us during our times of growth. Thank you for teaching us your way. And thanks for loving us through our growing pains. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment