The Girl With The Curl Rev. Bev Davis. November 27, 2017.
A few years ago, I awoke in the middle of the night. Now, waking up in the middle of the night is not totally unusual for me. You probably can guess, there are many reasons why a 68 year old woman would wake up mid-sleep.
You can probably guess?
That night you would be wrong.
That night, I woke up with the name of one my bullies on my lips.
Tom M is the name of one of the kids that helped make my grade school years unforgettable.
Not in a good way.
But, I’ll get back to him later.
Right now, I want to share what I think of when I gaze at this photo.
In this photo, I am smiling a sweet smile, as I leave my front porch to attend my first day of school.
I’m not sure what grade I was entering that day, third, maybe fourth? Definitely, not first grade!
Give the photo another look. Do you see that sweet smile?
Yes it’s there! On the surface.
If you look a little closer to that sweet smile, there is some apprehension toward what that day may bring.
My hair was clean and combed. My plaid dress was clean and pressed with a small bow at my neck. My shoes were polished, anklets clean and bright white.
I even carried a brand new 3-ring notebook filled with all the right school supplies under my left arm. My right hand holding the wrought iron bannister.
So, I ask myself!
What is it about that cute little girl, that warranted continued and painful bullying?
I know now, that the answer is absolutely, NOTHING!
There is absolutely no reason why I was taunted when I couldn’t give the answer to a multiplication problem. And certainly no understanding why I had to remain standing after everyone sat down.
There is no reason why I was thrown in a neighbor’s sticker bushes and left to rescue myself. These are just a tip of the bullying iceberg that was my childhood.
I never understood what there was about me, that, said, “victim.”
But I did discover something about Tom M that night. I learned that he had died in a motorcycle accident not long before I woke that night.
Now here is my question?
How are you supposed to feel when your bully dies in such a way?
I don’t know.
Because, all I felt was numb.
Now, I feel free!!!!
Aunt Mamie’s Rhyme
I also had a great aunt, who wasn’t so great. And she used to say this to me. I have no reason why. But it made me feel, uncomfortable, when I was a little girl.
There once was a girl that had a curl in the middle of her forehead.
When she was good, she was very, very good. And when she was bad, she was horrid!.
I was neither good, bad, or horrid! I didn’t even have a curl.
I was me
You are you
And that’s what makes you, YOU!
Bullying, stays with you. It affects the way you live your life.
And it must be taken seriously, always!