Several years ago I was grocery shopping when I noticed a woman in the store who had been severely burned. Her face had been disfigured to the point that her nose had been mostly burned off and her ears were gone. It appeared that a plastic surgeon had done his or her best to build out a semblance of ears. She also carried the typical raised scars covering her entire face in the area of the original burn.
She walked with confidence and seemed unbothered by the blatant stares, or the stares that tried to be inconspicuous. Though I am sure she saw them for what they were. And there were the ones who were careful to avoid eye contact due to their own discomfort. Whether the stares were blatant, inconspicuous or not at all, I had the sense that the underlining reaction of each person was based on fear - fear that this could be them.
I’d never seen this woman in my life so it seemed almost ordained that the very next day she would walk into the lobby of the bank branch that I managed.
I walked out to greet her and introduced myself extending out my hand to shake. It caught me off guard when in shaking her hand I realized that I was shaking the terminal end of the residual limb. Both her hands had been burned off in whatever accident she had.
I brought her into my office to discuss what brought her in and how I could help. She told me that she was there to open a business account for a non-profit she had started to help burn victims live their best life. I remember thinking almost immediately, “What best life.” I couldn’t imagine how anyone scarred and so badly disfigured could possibly live a best life. I’d rather die.
I could tell the story here of how she was burned so badly. It was a house fire, but it isn’t the important part of the story and the impact this woman had on me.
That night I could not stop thinking about her. A picture of her would flash through my mind and awe me at the courage she carried like a crown. I couldn’t wrap my head around how she walked so tall, so confident, with an ease that was astounding.
As I thought more and more about this woman I realized something so significant that I found myself almost envious of her. In the face of a life altering, devastating tragedy (she had also been an OR nurse, but could no longer be in that role as she had no hands) she found something I didn’t have and still don’t.
Our identities are so closely tied to our physical appearance, along with other things, of course. To lose that, to lose a career she loved, to lose a husband who could not deal with her disfigurement, who was she now? This woman had to reevaluate her entire life, her worth, and so much more, and in the end she found that her worth extended far beyond these things that we are all so tethered to and all pay a price for.
I wanted that. I wanted to see my real value untethered to a weight I didn’t want to carry, some false narrative created by a culture that has become so lost that the path to freedom is no longer visible - a path that shown so brightly for her that it required no searching. She was the path.
I’ve since tried to find her, and this has been over twenty years ago. I haven’t had success. I only remember that her name was Priscilla and she looked like a princess.
I remembered the act for which I had so much gratitude! It came to me this morning as I was walking around Buckeye Lake. From time to time, I go there for a couple of miles walk. One hot summer evening, after walking about an hour, I decided to find a spot on the rocks near the water to take a rest. A boy of about 10 years old was riding his bike past me. He slowed his bike and queried, "Are you alright, ma'am?" I was so touched by his concern and his apparent willingness to help me if I wasn't ok. I just kept thinking about how brave that was of him too, for surely that had to be an act born of great compassion to ask an "elderly" stranger.
I can't tell you the relief I have that I remembered this incident! I will cherish it more closely now.
Oh, Minda, I love this! Thank you for sharing - so glad you remembered. That's a treasure of a story. Good thoughts for that sweet young man wherever he is.
Ever since reading your post, I have been wracking my brain to remember the specific instance when I told the person, "This is one of the kindest things anyone has ever done for me." I'll be darned if I can remember who and what it was. When I do, I'll be sure to share it with you. In the meantime, I'm enjoying recalling examples of kindnesses I've experienced in my lifetime! As always, your post leads me to thoughtful reflections! Thank you!
He taught me to first gauge to make sure there's room, b/c sometimes there's just not, lol. If there is, then pull up even with the front car, maybe 2 1/2 - 3 feet distance between, start backing straight back, when you get to where your front passenger window is aligned just behind their back seat window, start turning steering wheel to the right (clockwise) and ease into the spot, making sure you have clearance with their left taillight (use those side mirrors, you have to adjust for massive trucks and SUVs!), and back in till you're close to the curb, then turn the steering wheel counter-clockwise to straighten your wheels and continue backing in, adjust forward and backward so front and back cars can get out, and you can, too. That's what has worked for me, and also I take my time doing it.
In all our time together I missed knowing you were ordained at 40. I don't believe I ever had an intelligent thought to share with you, I do hope I made you smile a lot. For me, knowing you has always been a hoot. I seem to have a soft spot for them there Rebeccas. BTW, we are living in Lexington now.
This will be a touch long.
Several years ago I was grocery shopping when I noticed a woman in the store who had been severely burned. Her face had been disfigured to the point that her nose had been mostly burned off and her ears were gone. It appeared that a plastic surgeon had done his or her best to build out a semblance of ears. She also carried the typical raised scars covering her entire face in the area of the original burn.
She walked with confidence and seemed unbothered by the blatant stares, or the stares that tried to be inconspicuous. Though I am sure she saw them for what they were. And there were the ones who were careful to avoid eye contact due to their own discomfort. Whether the stares were blatant, inconspicuous or not at all, I had the sense that the underlining reaction of each person was based on fear - fear that this could be them.
I’d never seen this woman in my life so it seemed almost ordained that the very next day she would walk into the lobby of the bank branch that I managed.
I walked out to greet her and introduced myself extending out my hand to shake. It caught me off guard when in shaking her hand I realized that I was shaking the terminal end of the residual limb. Both her hands had been burned off in whatever accident she had.
I brought her into my office to discuss what brought her in and how I could help. She told me that she was there to open a business account for a non-profit she had started to help burn victims live their best life. I remember thinking almost immediately, “What best life.” I couldn’t imagine how anyone scarred and so badly disfigured could possibly live a best life. I’d rather die.
I could tell the story here of how she was burned so badly. It was a house fire, but it isn’t the important part of the story and the impact this woman had on me.
That night I could not stop thinking about her. A picture of her would flash through my mind and awe me at the courage she carried like a crown. I couldn’t wrap my head around how she walked so tall, so confident, with an ease that was astounding.
As I thought more and more about this woman I realized something so significant that I found myself almost envious of her. In the face of a life altering, devastating tragedy (she had also been an OR nurse, but could no longer be in that role as she had no hands) she found something I didn’t have and still don’t.
Our identities are so closely tied to our physical appearance, along with other things, of course. To lose that, to lose a career she loved, to lose a husband who could not deal with her disfigurement, who was she now? This woman had to reevaluate her entire life, her worth, and so much more, and in the end she found that her worth extended far beyond these things that we are all so tethered to and all pay a price for.
I wanted that. I wanted to see my real value untethered to a weight I didn’t want to carry, some false narrative created by a culture that has become so lost that the path to freedom is no longer visible - a path that shown so brightly for her that it required no searching. She was the path.
I’ve since tried to find her, and this has been over twenty years ago. I haven’t had success. I only remember that her name was Priscilla and she looked like a princess.
This is amazing. Thank you for sharing it here.
I remembered the act for which I had so much gratitude! It came to me this morning as I was walking around Buckeye Lake. From time to time, I go there for a couple of miles walk. One hot summer evening, after walking about an hour, I decided to find a spot on the rocks near the water to take a rest. A boy of about 10 years old was riding his bike past me. He slowed his bike and queried, "Are you alright, ma'am?" I was so touched by his concern and his apparent willingness to help me if I wasn't ok. I just kept thinking about how brave that was of him too, for surely that had to be an act born of great compassion to ask an "elderly" stranger.
I can't tell you the relief I have that I remembered this incident! I will cherish it more closely now.
Oh, Minda, I love this! Thank you for sharing - so glad you remembered. That's a treasure of a story. Good thoughts for that sweet young man wherever he is.
Ever since reading your post, I have been wracking my brain to remember the specific instance when I told the person, "This is one of the kindest things anyone has ever done for me." I'll be darned if I can remember who and what it was. When I do, I'll be sure to share it with you. In the meantime, I'm enjoying recalling examples of kindnesses I've experienced in my lifetime! As always, your post leads me to thoughtful reflections! Thank you!
What are the age old parallel parking tips he gave you! I could use them :)
He taught me to first gauge to make sure there's room, b/c sometimes there's just not, lol. If there is, then pull up even with the front car, maybe 2 1/2 - 3 feet distance between, start backing straight back, when you get to where your front passenger window is aligned just behind their back seat window, start turning steering wheel to the right (clockwise) and ease into the spot, making sure you have clearance with their left taillight (use those side mirrors, you have to adjust for massive trucks and SUVs!), and back in till you're close to the curb, then turn the steering wheel counter-clockwise to straighten your wheels and continue backing in, adjust forward and backward so front and back cars can get out, and you can, too. That's what has worked for me, and also I take my time doing it.
In all our time together I missed knowing you were ordained at 40. I don't believe I ever had an intelligent thought to share with you, I do hope I made you smile a lot. For me, knowing you has always been a hoot. I seem to have a soft spot for them there Rebeccas. BTW, we are living in Lexington now.