...Sticks & Stones & Words...

Remember the old saying, “Stick and stones may break my bones, but names and faces won’t hurt me.” Even though we may have said it in a lyrical sort of way, ending with a nah, nah, nah, nah, nah nah. It’s a dangerous lie. Words have spiritual value you know. They can create life in our spirit or they can produce death. Cruel words crush the soul and wound the spirit of the person.

I posted this quote on Facebook and after I did, a barrage of memories of my childhood in the early 60’s came flooding back. I remember my mother telling me to say this when I was at the mercy of some mean nasty kid that made me cry. I remember screaming it at the top of my lungs with tears in my eyes a few times at someone who hurt my friend’s feelings or mine. Sometimes it’s just hard growing up. We took the dose of childhood with a spoonful of caster oil, pulled up our big girl panties, and went forward. I was talking with my husband about our different childhood memories and he chuckled and gave me that look, you know the kind that says, hold on, stop right there, and then he blurts out, “Sounds to me like you were one of the mean kids.” Naturally, I gasped, “Not me,” I replied. “Well,” he says. “Sounds to me any kid that screams at another kid, ‘Your mother wears Army boots,’ is kind of a mean kid, don’t you think?”

“Humph.” Back in the early 60’s that was a common thing for kids to say if they wanted to be spiteful. “But, they said it to me,” I retorted. Any comment made towards someone’s mother was a personal attack. Fightin’ words to be exact. I grew up with a close-knit group of neighborhood kids. We were all born and were raised on the same street. We were the next generation of kids whose older brothers and sisters were in high school or already graduated. Our street was our territory and those who invaded it, most of the time weren’t welcomed. Hmmmm…come to think of it, what I just wrote makes us sound like a bunch of little bullies. I assure you we weren’t. And, we were not the new generation replicas of the Little Rascals either. But there were a couple times someone was initiated into our spur of the moment clubs. We did stupid things to them, like blindfolding someone and making them smell a concoction of rotten fruit that fell off the trees and ended up throwing rotten fruit at everyone in rotten fruit tag. We made up stuff to do and yes, there were a couple kids who were picked on more than others, but no one was ever immuned. Eventually everyone was the blunt of a prank, you know how the saying goes, what goes around comes around. It came around that eventually our school peers picked us on…something like a rite of passage without the ceremony. No one is inoculated from being victimized once or twice in his or her lives.

This leads me back to the beginning of why I started to write today’s blog. Words. Words are spoken from being hurt. Words are written when you’re hurt and can’t express them any other way. Both forms have hurt me. I have hurt others by both. Words can be vicious hooks with enormous power, becoming a living entity that grows, spreads, and influences others directly or indirectly. Words can be taken out of context. I am not above saying I have held grudges because of spoken and written words, hell, I’m the Queen of Grudges! One word, just one frickin’ word out of place driven by emotion can submerge a relationship. I know. I think of my mother cautioning me, “Don’t ever put in writing what you wouldn’t want repeated. You can never take it back.” She was a wise woman in many ways. Now, I will close and let you ponder the power of the written and the spoken word. Notice how it provokes and divides or calms and connects. Does it create and produce change? I have pondered the same questions and my own faults. I am increasingly more cautious in what I say and how I listen to the words around me.

Oh, and one last thought, if you ever hear a kid scream, “Your mother wears Army boots!” Tell them that you personally want to thank her for wearing them and God Bless Her!

Peace everyone...