The kids have been roller skating at night lately. We go to our neighbor's house, which is endowed with both a flat pad of concrete out back near an unused garage, and a pretty flat driveway out front, which is often car-free.
At some point two days ago, Helen fell on her bottom. Hard. It most definitely hurt. But physical pain is nothing, in comparison to having to admit there's something that she simply cannot do. So, rather than cry, Helen picked her little bottom off the ground, and with bottom lip quivering she shouted - "THAT DID NOT HURT".
Only clearly, it was quite painful. And tears welled up in the corners of her eyes, and I asked her if she wanted me to hold her, and she steadfastly shouted once more - "THAT DID NOT HURT". As if she could will away the pain.
And man, I felt sorry for the little girl, because it clearly hurt, but I didn't want to hurt her pride any more by insisting I hold her, so I asked if she wanted to skate some more and she shouted, quite reasonably "NO!". So I quietly asked if she'd like a little hug, or if she'd like to come with me inside, and I offered to carry her since she had skates on, but she wasn't about to show weakness, so she shouted to me "NO!".
So then, as I was holding back laughter at the ridiculousness of it all, trying to show some empathy for this little girl, who is more stubborn than anything you could imagine, I asked her if she preferred to just stand there for a while.
And, with the tears now almost falling from those big blue eyes, she said "yes", because Helen knew that if she made even one move, she could not possibly hold it together and pretend it didn't hurt. And so she stood. Until finally I convinced her to come with me and pick a flower and deliver it to my neighbor's porch.
Pride. It can really get in the way sometimes.
No comments:
Post a Comment