"Language, as well as the faculty of speech, was the immediate gift of God." ~ Noah Webster

Wednesday, January 7, 2015

"Cause I'm a Man!" ~ Spending Treasure

I watched a sweet video yesterday about little boys and their actions. I have posted it below; it is well-worth a view.

I think probably because of this little video, a cherished memory of my past came to mind. I woke in the night, feeling like I wanted to write about it.

This is a memory that took place when I was around 4 or 5, and it is a very fond memory of mine. It isn’t probably my fondest memory or even a favorite memory, but for some reason it is definitely one of the most vivid memories I have of that age. I’m not sure why. It involves my brother, his best friend and me. I will call this friend DB; I don’t want to give away identities without permission.

This little boy was about 6 at the time, I believe, as he was the same age as my brother who is a year older than me. DB’s mom was a good friend of my mom and dad, and his sister was my oldest sister’s best friend. Needless to say we were all close in the little town in which we lived. My folks rented a big, beautiful, two-story, turn of the century home from Mrs. B. during my dad’s crop-dusting years. We also inherited their beautiful cat, Snitch and their wonderful collie, Pete…better known as Petey.

But I had better get back to DB, because if I am not careful, I could ramble on about that time in my life for pages and pages. DB was the cutest little boy I had ever known in all of my 5 years. He had blond hair and sparkling blue eyes that I will never forget. He had a face that always seemed to be radiating from a heart that was laughing. From what a 5 year old can understand of a “crush”, I think I had the biggest CRUSH ever on my brother’s little friend, DB. - But then there was Rowdy Yates, too! (That was Clint Eastwood during his Rawhide years for those too young to know anything about Rowdy.) Again, I digress. For some reason I remember it all as clearly as if it were yesterday.

I played a lot with my brother and his friend. In their young 6 year old minds, they were probably stuck with the younger sis.
Now the memory I am about to speak of is only a memory of a moment. I have always found this simple quote to be so true: “We do not remember days; we remember moments.” For whatever reason, this is one of the clearest moments of my life.
It was a beautiful summer day, and the three of us, were out on the sidewalk under the shade of a big old maple tree. My brother and DB had undertaken the task of teaching me to roller skate. I remember the shiny, medal skates and the little key to make them fit. I remember the fun, anticipation, and excitement I felt because these two little guys were taking the time to teach me something.

But the very next thing I remember is that I was in tears. I don’t remember if I had fallen and gotten hurt, or if I had fallen and been embarrassed. Or maybe somehow I had my tender 5 year old feelings hurt, even without falling. I don’t know. I simply don’t remember that part. But the next thing I knew the two boys were trying to figure out what to do with this younger sibling and her tears. I think they tried for a bit without success to stop my crying. All of a sudden, I think DB had a great idea that would undoubtedly work.
No, this isn't me, but it IS kinda
how I remember feeling!
“Who’s your boyfriend, Jan?” he asked with his sparkling smile.

It only took me but a second to break out into a big smile that would soon turn to laughter.

“YOU!” I emphatically replied with uncontrolled glee that only could come from a child’s tender heart. I remember that so plainly. I remember the tears rolling down my face, and feeling hot and frustrated. I can visually see a small girl’s pudgy face as she suddenly broke into laughter when DB leaned down to look her in the eye as he asked that silly question. I can still hear the little girl’s giggle.

But I also remember DB’s reaction. I had totally caught him off guard. He was not expecting that! I smile now as I think of it. He twisted and contorted, jumping back from me as far as he could get, breaking out in laughter himself.

“Oh no!” he exclaimed, laughing. That is all I remember. I remember his kindness and then his kindness turned to surprise as he heard my unexpected response. I remember him laughing in embarrassment. I remember taking it all in. I remember and treasure the laughter.

I don’t remember if I learned to roller skate that day. But I certainly remember the kindness of the two little boys who were stuck with the younger sis.

Anyway, that’s my story; that’s my memory. I am thankful I was raised with little boys that always were kind to me. I feel bad for people that are taught to be distrustful of boys and men. I don’t believe that is what God intends for us. Yes, we should be wary in certain situations, where we could be taken advantage of, or abused. But that is not the norm. There is a definite movement today that seems to capitalize on the attack of our boys, men and fathers.

I’m thankful for the moments in my life that may have brought tears, are forever blotted out; and that I only remember the joy. Forgetting the bad allows me the freedom to trust until proven otherwise.

Sometimes in this modern day and age, I think men get a bad rap. I think the women’s lib movement has far blown everything out of context. I think none of it is Scriptural. Respect must go both ways. I don't think we always see that. I like that this charming video shows us the best of what our young boys have typically been taught to be...at least in a Judeo/Christian culture.
Enjoy the video*. I sure did!

(P.S. Note the unselfish "What do you wanna be when you grow up?" profession choices of these little boys.)

                                            No surprise for me.

*The video was originally posted by "Fanpage" - an Italian news organization - with the intent to show "how children react to the subject of violence against women.". I haven't checked out their further political affiliations. Please accept this caution and disclaimer. I tried to find out, but it's all in Italian! lol Due to that fact, I don't think anyone can get misled in anyway.  ;-) I definitely don't want to be seen as supporting something with which I disagree, but this was just too doggone cute, and I believe in the message I have presented in my post without regard to whatever else this news organization might represent.


By the way, one further note of interest in regard to the family in my post. My own family mostly lost contact with them once my dad quit crop-dusting. When I was a freshman in college, I was friends with a young man from Spokane. He had an interest in music and happened to mention DB's name in regard to that. I asked my college friend, what DB looked like. He responded with the exact description I have given of DB. I asked my college friend if the next time he saw DB he would ask him if he was the same DB that I knew in my childhood. And I related the story, to my college friend that I told in the post above.

A few days later, my college friend  came back with the answer, laughing as he told me.

"He's the same guy! And he told me the exact same story, remembering it in the exact same way that you told me!!"

Ahhhhh life! Too much fun!