Unknown Burdens

My brother and I were exchanging emails this morning and he sent me some great quotes that led me to remembering an experience from my own life. I've decided to share it...so here it is:

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I remember years ago, not long after Ken was diagnosed with his liver disease things were really starting to pile up on us. His insurance had canceled him, he needed to sell his business and quit working, and I needed to find myself a job...one with insurance, so Kenny could be eligible for a liver transplant.

Needless to say we were in a real pickle...financially and otherwise. I was under extreme stress, scared for Kenny, scared for me and scared for our three boys. They were just little guys in those days. Randy our youngest, was only four. And all I could think of is, "How am I gonna pull this off? I've got to come up with a solution to solve these many problems."

I went out shopping one Saturday, by myself. It was Christmas time so I went to the Zayres Discount Store in New Carrollton to get some things for the boys. Under the circumstances, I had already begun pinching pennies very hard. After I finished my shopping, I headed out of the store, but I was in a bit of a trance...just walking along. My thoughts were a million miles away. I was not the least bit aware of what was going on in the world around me.

When I stepped through the door I was jolted by a situation unfolding before me. A little boy had held open the door...and I had just walked through it without seeing him and without saying a word. The little boy was black. And he couldn't have been more than five years old.

I had not been aware of his kindness and had not said thank you. Instead of his Mother reinforcing his sweet behavior, she screamed loudly at her son, "Don't you ever hold open the door for any white woman again!"

The woman's hateful words snapped me out of my fog. And I was shocked. I realized she had no idea that I had been lost in my thoughts or that I was carrying a significant burden around with me that day. Instead, it appeared that I hadn't cared, that I hadn't appreciated her son's kind gesture. She probably thought I had taken him for granted...or felt that I was entitled to his servitude.

The boy recoiled from his mother's screaming and his face dropped to a puzzled frown. Immediately, "I said, Oh my! I am so, so sorry." While I leaned down to look into the boy's face and back at his mother's, I said, "Thank you, thank you, for holding the door for me," But it was too late. The perception of me was set...and the negative lesson had been taught. She grabbed her son's hand and marched him away.

I found myself wanting to run after her so I could explain that my husband was dying and I didn't know what to do. But the woman had spewed such hate at me and her son, that I figured there was nothing I could say that would make a difference. I doubted she would hear my words and perhaps she wouldn't even care of the tragedy that was rocking my world.

As I headed to my car, tears of frustration fell from my cheeks. I felt so badly for that little boy and I was also embarrassed by the scene, especially that anyone would think that I could be rude and uncaring. I had also felt the sting of discrimination. In that quick moment I had felt what it's like...and it felt bad. I'm guessing that Mother had grown up feeling that same sting over and over, and over again. And so even though I didn't like her reaction, I understood it.

But, I could tell that the little boy hadn't understood a thing. He was too young to know. And he had looked at me in such a way that I could read the shock on his face. He had just been trying to do something kind and it had backfired on him. His Mom's screaming had brought on a look of both sadness and fear.

I found myself thinking of that situation and that little boy for the rest of the day and beyond. I've thought back on that moment many times throughout my life. And I've wished over and over that I could have seen it coming and could have prevented it from happening. In fact, in recalling it now, I wonder where the boy is today. He would now be a young man. I wonder...what he has become? Did he have a good life? Did he grow up surrounded by love or had he grown up learning to hate? And I wonder what he thinks of white women today? Or white people in general. And how many times has he experienced others discriminating against him? And hopefully if he has, those harsh lessons have taught him tolerance and understanding...rather than hatred.

For me, it's the day that I realized that one should NEVER jump to conclusions about people's behavior and why they act as they do. You just never know the burdens or experiences a person is carrying. You never know the stress that could prevent them from behaving as you might expect...based on what is REALLY in their heart.

That one kind, innocent, gesture and the reaction to a perception has remained a powerful lesson for me. You never know the burden other's are carrying...you just never know... We must always remember to extend people a little grace and perhaps always question our own negative perceptions.