When I was 4 or 5, my mom used to let my brother and I run about the neighborhood. As I mentioned in a previous blog, I had some neighbors at the end of the block I played with every day.
Patrick was the the boy closer to my age, Shoua was his younger sister, and there was a baby named Maya.
We were jumping from the porch into a plastic kiddie pool full of water. When it came to be my turn, somehow the baby was hanging out in front of me. She was naked except for her diapers. I gave a little nudge and the baby fell from the porch hard into the pool. The dad hollered at me , the mom was wailing at me in her language. They were mad! I ran from the scene FAST and got into my own home.
For a very long time, I did not play outside with my friends at that house. I was full of shame and, more so, I did not want to confront their parents' possible anger. I was worried for the worst.
One day, my friends' father came by our front door and my mom answered. He saw me standing behind her and asked " I was wondering if Justin wanted a Popsicle."
He had one with him. I took it and smiled ( It was okay, he wasn't a stranger at this point). I felt welcome to go back over to play with my favorite neighborhood friends.
He knew I was sorry, and I think he felt bad for me because I was so scared.
I'm not four any more. There's no more being "scared".
But in case anyone is wondering, I like grape.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment