When I was about 12 or 13 years old, that awkward phase for some, I was indeed a very "uncomfortable in my skin" child. I lacked that evasive sense of self. I might say I never found it completely except during these past shut-in years with Gerred.
However, at 12, I certainly acquired a sense of obnoxious bossiness and a drive to smooth the way for perfection if indeed it could be found anywhere in mid Missouri.
So that Christmas my mom was in charge of a Sunday School play for the Program. I don't know if she found it or wrote it? But I recall my dad building a beautiful, huge, wooden star. He was quite the carpenter and very good with electrifying every possible item. This star had brilliant blue c7 lights in every point. The teens in my country church were to read a short monologue about the persons involved with the nativity. Following that speech each young person slowly turned a light in the darkened church, and finally, Voila! A blue star appeared in the sky!
I was privy to the chatter at home, and somehow it drilled in my head my dad was worried that some kid would forget to light the bulb, and the star would lose its effect.
So... here I come, ever ready to be the hero yet sadly lacking in the pizzazz that really needs to accompany heroism... I sat near the star and whispered an inaudible (ha!] Super-irritating reminder to each speaker. - light your star...-
And they did. Except one 12 year old girl who read her part quite loudly so her grandfather(who was nearly deaf) could hear her. She only had thoughts of him and his smile when he heard her read about the shepherds that cold, holy night. Feeling so happy with her performance, she sat down and saw our star... one little point all dark...
Oh, you guys know me too well... my grandfather couldn't hear well. My star was dark although I had bossed every other child. I saw my dad grin and shrug; my mother at the piano shook her head in obvious disappointment. And some older girl, probably my cousin Sharon, reached over and unceremoniously twisted my blue light into glory. Baby Jesus was saved, but not by me.
I have said all this to tell you that I spent one solid week before our Arctic storm and sub-zero weather railing about my friend who won't get a furnace. I called friends and I argued with her and I simply had a fit. She heats with space heaters, and she has refused to do things any differently for years! But... guess whose water lines froze and broke on Monday? Yep... that same bossy girl who did not light her star!
When it rains, it pours in Missouri... All fixed now.
