The first time I remember it being this cold and snowy, I was running to my first grade class/portable. My mother had inadvertently made me late because she was making a Christmas candy jar for my teacher. The sidewalk was snowpacked, so of course I slipped and watched the jar shatter in front of my eyes. Distraught (crying?) I rushed back to see if my mother had left. She saw the whole thing. I was so sad that I thought I had ruined Christmas for my mother who had worked so ‘hard’ on that Mason jar full of candy, and for my poor teacher, for whom I had accidently forsaken a gift due to poor motor skills. I hopped back in the car and demanded we get back and make another one. Or maybe my mother gets me to calm down by saying we’ll go back and make another, it’s fuzzy. While the second scenario is probably closer to the truth, it wouldn’t have mattered. I was distraught with the thought of being the cause of unhappiness.
While I’m walking through the parking lot up to my home this evening, I’m suddenly reminded of this memory as I reflect on my snippy, cranky, snotty, and general bad attitude that I had at work today (much to the thrill of my unsuspecting coworkers, I’m sure).
I have to wonder, what happened to that sweet kid who wanted to make everyone happy?
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