story of a girl
Approximately twenty-five years ago, there was a conception. A being was created and eventually birthed. This child emerged covered in afterbirth and no one could have imagined the ramifications. Even now, the value of this child may be incomphrensible.
What difference would this being make in the world? Likely, none. It is the exception to the rule when one life changes many on a worldwide scale. Usually, we only affect those that we come into direct contact with. This isn't to say that we aren't all exceptional or even vital to our universe. We are. And sometimes, if we're lucky, we are the universe to someone.
This child was not an exception. A Midwesterner by birth and for a time by choice, the child grew to be an individual with idiosyncracies and the normal abnormalities. The person when met did not amaze nor stun you with her intellect or beauty. She merely existed with you for a moment in time.
You ask, if she's so common, just like me, why do you mention her? Why is she worth an entry? Well, my dear, the one thing none of us could have predicted was how genes would carefully align and endow her with the ever magical, mysterious cankles.
Cankles? This is why I should take notice of her? Because she had fat ankles? I hear the incredulousness in your voice. How could extra flesh swathed around her ankle joints make any difference to anyone? I understand. I've expressed the same reaction in the past. But the cankles are symbolic. Of course, they are, you sigh. Just sit back and pour yourself a drink and I shall explain.
So often we are classified by our appearance. Sex, Race, Ancestry. The list goes on and on. Even the wrinkles on our face tell others if we are rich enough for Botox or if much of our lives has been spent outdoors. But so many things cannot be learned by our appearance. How do you know if someone is kind or if they have the dictatorial qualities of Hitler? How do you know without asking if someone can name all the elements on the periodic table or if they are doing good to tell you which way the sky is? True, dtereotyping is quite common, but not foolproof. Often the black man wearing a hooded sweatshirt walking down a dark alley is not a criminal and it's the cheerleaders who are really robbing the banks.
What do the cankles tell us then? Humor. Now, if you're walking down the street and you see someone with abnormally large ankles don't just
assume that they have a good sense of humor and enjoy being teased about their swath of fat, they may inflict physical harm upon you, but this chick, she can take a joke. These cankles have taught her to be a bit less self-conscious and accepting of things that she cannot change. This extra fat has shown her that it's easier to smile and laugh then take offense about something that only liposuction can truly fix and, even with that, would return. Our fat is meant to settle in certain places. This is hers. She's learned an invaluable lesson from it. Am I bold enough to ask if you can learn something from one of your imperfections?
She may exist for another twenty-five years and she may die tomorrow because of a nasal tumor. The world at large won't take notice of her birth and demise or of the days in between. But will you remember how it lightened your heart a bit when you heard one of her stories? Will you remember the value of making someone smile and how valuable a laugh really is even if it's at your expense? To her, knowing she could make someone laugh made the moments worth it. Or will you be perfect and never have "angie" moments and forget the value of comic relief and, in doing so, forget her?
posted by dembrat.
Posted by dembrat
2007-01-09
go back | random brainstorm | go forth
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