The child's story is not mine to share, but I can share a few of my own. I find having experienced these makes me want to hesitate before being so quick to jump to conclusions.
Story 1
Every year Dad would get a huge pile of firewood from Grandpa's sawmill. We would unload it at home and then allow it to season for a year before moving it into our woodshed the following fall.
One fall we had moved most of the previous year's firewood into the woodshed, but there were still quite a bit of pieces half way buried in dirt and fragments of decomposing bark.
Dad had asked me to dig out those pieces yet and move them inside. My two youngest brothers followed me everywhere and naturally they accompanied me outside to help. I squatted down and dug out the pieces and they would stack them on the wagon and once it was filled we would take it to the woodshed to unload it.
Dad had some errands to run and had called a driver to take him where he needed to go. The driver arrived and had to wait a few minutes until Dad was ready to leave. I kept on digging out stray pieces of firewood and Ivan and Raymond were still happily stacking any piece I unearthed onto the wagon.
Dad left to take care of his errands, and when he came home he unloaded everything while the driver waited. I was still working on the firewood project. When the driver was ready to leave he stopped next to where I was digging out another piece of wood, and gave me a piece of his mind about how disgusted he was that I was so lazy that I would just sit there and have my little brothers do all the work.
I simply gaped at him and before I could find words again he had driven off.
Story 2
With Mom busy with customers most of the time, I was the main caretaker of my youngest siblings. I was sixteen when Raymond was born and he was by my side constantly.
One day I was working in the garden with Raymond toddling around near me trying to help or picking up little rocks to play with when an older "English" pastor stopped in.
He saw me in the garden and came over to talk a little before heading to the woodworking shop where Dad was busy making chairs.
Raymond wasn't too fond of strangers and clung to the skirt of my dress. I scooped him up and stood there holding him as we talked.
The pastor proceeded to tell me how disappointed he was to see even the Amish have unwed mothers, but assured me God could forgive my sins and still use the little guy for His glory. He then marched off to find my Dad and then it dawned on me he thought my brother was my son.
~~~~~
These two examples serve as a good reminder why I think it's important to understand situations before being so fast to think the worst of someone.
All I can say is wow.So quick to judge.
ReplyDeleteFor some people, the only exercise they get is jumping to conclusions.
ReplyDeleteGood grief! That Pastor was surely way too impulsive in what he said! These kind of things are so frustrating, I know.
ReplyDeleteOh my! I'm so sorry for your experiences. I guess if anything good happened from it, it was to make you less quick to judge without knowing ALL of the details fo a situation. My heart hurts for you and the things that were said to you.
ReplyDeleteI had a 6th grade teacher tell my parents that he knew I was using drugs, (this was 50 years ago!), because the pupils of my eyes were dilated all of the time. They just were and always had been. But, I had to go to the doctor and get blood drawn just to prove to the school that I wasn't on drugs. The ironic thing is, I was the most unlikely person I knew that would ever use drugs. My friends called me a "goody two-shoes" who ALWAYS followed the rules. I had idolized this teacher until this happened. I was so nervous in school after that, always wondering what people were thinking. I don't think I've ever forgotten it.
Blessings,
Betsy
Blessings,
Betsy
Unfortunately some people seem to want
ReplyDeleteto think the worst of others.
It is a horrible feeling to be wrongly judged.
Yes, these serve as excellent reminders of the need to not go jumping to conclusions.
ReplyDeleteOh my, those true stories are so "gut wrenching"
ReplyDeleteToo sad and damaging.
What a reminder to not jump to conclusions.
I grew up in an Orthodox Jewish community, where big families were not unheard of. I am the oldest of 11 children, and I too had comments and (mostly) stares about being a teenage mother when out and about with my youngest sibling. Not only that, a school mate of mine was sitting on a stoop outside her house with her youngest sibling, and two women walking by stopped and commented, "So young! So young!" It took her a minute, but then she understood: "This is my sister, not my baby!"
ReplyDelete