Junk Happens

Saturday afternoon, just an hour before my scheduled blind date, I was sitting at the computer working on some stuff for the upcoming school year when I heard the skid of tires and a crash. This is not too uncommon, as I live close to two fairly major roadways, so I didn't think much of it. Then my brother came in the house and had that look. You know the look, his face and body language suggested that something was not right. He was livid.

My mom asked, "what's wrong?"

To which he replied, "I just crashed!"

I of course jumped up from the computer and started to make my way outside with the rest of my family. My brother began to recount what had happened. In short, he was pulling away from the curb and was hit by an old lady in an SUV, who was far too old and far too blind to be speeding around the corner. She was going so fast that when she slammed on the breaks and gas at the same time (yeah, that was dumb too), she slid into my car, which was innocently parked in front of the house. My poor car, and worse, my poor brother! He felt awful and apologized profusely, even sending me a text message while I was on my date. It is horrible to get in an accident - the initial shock, the embarassment, the police, the tickets, the onlookers, the damage, the insurance, the bills, not to mention the potential for injury. I feel more bad about him being in the accident than I do about my car. Life's too short to get bent out of shape about a car that's bent out of shape. I'm just grateful that it wasn't any worse than it was. So, when ya'll see my crumpled hood and broken headlight - that's the story!

To see clearly

There was once a little boy. The boy was a little bit different than the other kids on the block and they didn't always understand him, but he was a good kid with a good heart. He always did the best he could, though sometimes it was perceived wrong. One day there was a fight between the boy and his friend - it was a stupid fight, but at the time it was everything. The boy was partly in the wrong, even though he didn't mean to be - he couldn't see the whole picture. There was no way for him to understand the hidden pain felt by the friend. The boy wasn't at the top of the popularity pole of the neighborhood at the time and so the kids on the block rallied to the friend to defend at all costs. The boy was left alone to the viciousness that sometimes comes out in kids. They teased him, they roughed him up, they poked at him in ways that were intentional, and on one occasion they even threw things at him while they laughed and taunted. These were really good kids who were partly right in their claim, and justified to defend their friend. Afterall, they had been hurt too - but they didn't see the whole picture either. They didn't really mean to hurt anybody. They never did see the secret sobs of a little boy caused by kids who he needed to be his friends.

I've thought about this scenerio from time to time and I realize that the playground can be pretty rough for everyone. I won't say what side I was on in this situation, but it kills me to think that it didn't have to be that way. If only I could have seen more clearly when I was so convinced that I knew what was going on and that I was right.