"Spare the rod and spoil the child."

What did I do so wrong?"

"I tried to do what she asked, what they asked, why can't I do what they told me to do." 

"I am Bad, I guess I am Just Bad."

The look of anguish was spray painted across my face as I stood in line.  Feelings of confusion accompanied the anguish as I surveyed the others in line.  Their stares were masked with a paralyzed confusion. We did not know what to do. Our gazes were frozen like a herd of deer caught in the headlights of semi-trucks plowing down on them from all directions.   So we stood still. 

"Oh I can run to my mom," I thought as I slowly and nervously look around to find her in what seemed like a sea of adults watching the show.  "Aw there she is," I signed to myself.  In my mother's arm, I felt the hope.  It begins to rise in my belly, and as it rose hope stopped and it died.  I think it lost its footing. My hope was washed away by the whistle and her blank look.  The deer was in her eyes.  The Son of Fire destroyed the maternal instincts and white washed and suppressed her with a hypnotic notion.  She could not sense my fear, confusion, and need for protection. She had been covered with detachment and void of instinct. 

"Maybe I can walk over to...” my thoughts were disrupted by the whistling sound.  The sound was followed by an eerie squeal of pain.  The pain tapped my attention on the back and diverted thoughts of salvation.  The thought of pain caressed me and leaned on my shoulder.  I swallowed hard to digest the feelings that were just feed to me.  As I closed my eyes, I heard the whistle again and this time my body danced to the beat of the whistle.    We shared in this torment.  Then I heard the transition. It went from a cry to a whimper and from scream to whines.  From good to bad.  From brat to child.  "Now he is a better child," I thought "I guess soon I will be."  The line moved forward. The whistles sound again.

The Choir rose and sang praises. I heard them say.  I heard someone say, "Spare the rod and spoil the child."

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My Observation

I often wonder what the world would be like if I lost the use of one or more of my senses or major limbs. Does the body truly compensate for the changes? Does it really strengthen the other senses to make up for the lost or missing sense?

On my ride home the other night, I had the opportunity to observe a blind woman.

  The young lady was about 5’1,” average weight and a cute disposition. Her hair was neatly braided and pulled to the back by a rubber band. Her most disguising physical attribute was he eyes and lips. Her eyes had a strong almond shape and her lips were full and complimented her face very well. At first glance, I had no idea she was blind. Her walking stick was the first indication for me. She stood there with confidence and by her self-assured pose, I could only assume that she was either born blind or she has been blind for some time. I observed her actions and I could only wonder about her coping skills with life. Is she angry? Does she blame God? Is she in constant fear of others (predators)? I did not have an opportunity to speak with her. Maybe if I see her again I will.

In her Shoes-

If I was in her situation, I could only feel or imagine fear at this point. I know that I would soon adjust. We all live in fear in one form or another; we spend most of our lives working around the fear. We mask the fear with denial and avoid it until it traps us.

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