Spotlight on Yourself
Each of us has had, at some point in our lives, a few
moments of total self-pride. I’m not referring to being egotistical, nor
the pride that someone else feels for us and our accomplishments. I’m talking
about honest, genuine pride that comes from knowing we did a job to the utmost
of our ability, made the right choice in a tough situation, or acted in a way
that makes us feel as if we were the best, even if just for a minute.
For some people, especially during
our youth, it might be bringing home that glowing report card with the A grade
boldly displayed. For others it might have been winning a trophy, or a ribbon,
or even just scoring a run or making a 3 pointer. Sometimes the world notices and
applauds our victories, and other times only we know how great we did, but
either way, nothing is quite like that feeling of accomplishment and
self-respect.
A Tale of Yesterday
I’d like to share a little story
about a little boy with an IQ much bigger than his small frame. This young man
learned to read at the age of 4, and read his first novel at the age of 6. His
family moved around a lot during his childhood, and from the beginning books were
an escape, a diversion, and a friend who he could keep with him when he moved
away.
His birthday was late in the year,
so he had to wait until he was almost 6 to start Kindergarten, and the
following year, they moved him into 2nd grade, since he could read
at a 4th grade level. He had always been small for his
age, and jumping a grade meant that he was that much littler than most of his
classmates, so he was known very quickly at each new school as the “little
brainy new kid.”
Okay, now that you have met the
boy that I was, way back when, I’d like to tell you what happened to me one
day, in the long-ago year of 1971.
The Campground
I was seven years old that summer, and
had finished 3rd grade, in a single school the entire year for the
very first time. Sadly after the school year ended, we moved again, and for a
few weeks we lived in tents at a campground on the beach in Oregon, while my
dad was working on a fishing boat. My little sister was four, and our baby brother was only two, so my mom had her hands full, and I pretty much had my days to myself.
I was working on reading my second
full-length novel, “Lad: A Dog” and had my hardback open as I wandered through
the campground one day. I had spent a while reading in the shade of a tree, but it was
approaching lunchtime, and since we didn’t have a lot of food, I wasn’t going to
miss out. The biggest problem I had, was that even back then, I became completely engrossed in
what I was reading, and the “mind movie” was going full speed as I made my way
to our tent.
Challenged
One of our fellow campers had set
up a small fruit stand next to his trailer, and was sitting in a lawn chair
watching me as I meandered through the campground, book open and head a million
miles away.
“Hey kid!,” he yelled. “Come over here.”
“Hey kid!,” he yelled. “Come over here.”
Having been pulled out of the
story, I bent the corner of the page I
was on to mark my spot, and made my way over to him. Now keep in mind that
while I had finished 3rd grade, I still looked as if I were in
kindergarten at best.
“What do ya got there?” he asked.
“A book,” I replied, with just a
hint of sarcasm.
“A picture book, huh?” he said with a smug grin, which of course made me
indignant. Reading was an important part of my life, and not to be belittled.
“No, it’s a NOVEL,” I said. “The
only picture is on the cover.”
“BALONEY! Let me see that…” he
replied.
He held his hand out, and I
tentatively handed him my book. He flipped through the pages of the book, and
satisfied, handed it back.
“You aint a-readin that book,” he
said.
Okay, now I was getting a little
mad. “Yes I am! I can prove it!”
“Okay, I’ll make a deal with you,”
he said. “If you can read me one whole page out loud, without having to ask what a word
is, I’ll give you that whole box of apples by your feet.”
Triumph
I still remember that trip from
his stand to our campsite. It took me a while, because I had to stop every
three or four steps to put the huge box of apples down, since it weighed as
much, if not more, than I did. He had offered to carry it for me, but I declined. I had earned those apples, and I was going to bring them home to my mom.
Even more than the long trek (step-step-step,
set it down, shake my arms, pick it up, repeat) I remember how proud I was of
myself. I knew that I had met the challenge and had the proof in my arms. Those
apples tasted better than any others I had ever eaten, and that moment of
greatness was engraved in my memory forever.
Stand Tall
You won’t always succeed at the
things you try in life, and not everyone gets to win every time. Setbacks and
defeats are a part of the whole journey, but so is success and winning. Try to
be aware of even your little victories, and celebrate them.
You, along with everyone you meet,
have the ability to shine and be a star, in some fashion. Never hide it when
you know you are shining brightly, and on the days when your light is a bit
dim, just keep in mind that tomorrow is a fresh chance to do your best, and the sweetest apples are the ones you earn for
yourself.
Something to consider,
From Grandpa’s Heart