by Sandra Allen Lovelace @SandraALovelace #WallflowerWomen #TimetobeYOU!
I recently found the picture of myself you see above. There’s no date on the back, but I was probably around 10 years old. That was the year I made it through grade 4 under the guidance of Mrs. Sterns – multiplication tables and long division not withstanding. It was also the year I started to realize I was fairly coordinated and good at sports. By grade 6, boy captains started to choose me early to be on their baseball team. I thought I’d hit the big time.
And so it went for this tomboy raised in a country town made up of extended relatives. Running barefoot across blacktop and dancing into a patch of poison ivy to taunt allergic friends are joyous summer memories. Difficult days included hunting high and low for empty bottles to redeem at Paine’s Store, and choosing just the right penny candy to buy with my reward. At times, those days seem idyllic. At others not so much.
There was the constant threat that one aunt or another would catch me at the wrong moment. Aunt Hattie lived next door and I can still hear her strident voice, “All right, you kids. Get off those tracks.” And Aunt Jeanie came up behind my cousin and me just after we launched another pebble at her dog tied to a tree. Her blistering tirade let us know that better be the last time we played that game.
From this vantage point, there’s one shining light in my review of the easy and hard of growing up. My world was small. My elementary school had one room for each grade, and I knew everybody and their family. No such thing as cliques. Until I went to high school I thought the only churches were congregational and catholic. And the St. Theresa kids got out early every Thursday. No conflict, only a touch of envy. Summer was for sunshine and bicycles, winter for snow and sleds. Home was the conflict point.
If I could talk to the little girl of my past, I’d tell her to go ahead and enjoy life. I’d encourage her to get to know the One who made her, and wrap herself in His love. Share on XWhat do you see when you look at your childhood photos?
How would you encourage your younger self to make the most of life?
Share your thoughts in the Comments.
Sandra
I lived a simple, yet complicated childhood. My life was filled with family (aunts, uncles, cousins, siblings, grandparents). Family life was for the most part happy and healthy. If I could talk to younger me, I would say that pleasing my Heavenly Father is way more important than trying to live a life that pleases the church members or the deacon board! Daddy always said ‘Don’t do that. The Deacons are watching.’ I lived my whole childhood in a glass house. I am accountable to only Jesus. Also If I could go back I would cherish my family more. I’d develop better relationships with my sisters.
I hear ya, Pam. I’m still working to overcome the pattern of bowing to human authorities, and instead gathering wise counsel and then concentrating on what God would have me do . . . and God alone.
Thank you for your honesty.