Considering Myself
If I try to be like him, who will be like me?
There’s Always One
We need to treasure our uniqueness. Even those aspects of uniqueness that don’t always fit in. I saw this illustration in a cartoon that showed the foreman of a jury at the door of the jury room giving the lunch order to the bailiff. You know the jury is in for a long time when you hear the order: “Eleven cheeseburgers and one hot dog. Eleven coffees and one hot chocolate. Eleven fruit pies and one prune Danish.”
Admire Their Uniqueness
Once a wise teacher was speaking to a group of eager young students. He gave them the assignment to go out and find a small, unnoticed flower somewhere. He asked them to study the flower for a long time. “Get a magnifying glass and study the delicate veins in the leaves, and notice the nuances and shades of color. Turn the leaves slowing and observe their symmetry. And remember that this flower might have gone unnoticed and unappreciated if you had not found and admired it.” After the class returned, the teacher observed, “People are like that. Each one is different, carefully crafted, uniquely endowed. But you have to spend time with them to know this. So many people go unnoticed and unappreciated because no one has ever taken time with them and admired their uniqueness.”
She Thinks I’m Real
A waitress was taking orders from a couple and their young son; she was one of the class of veteran waitresses who never show outright disrespect to their customers, but who frequently make it quietly evident by their unhurried pace and their level stare that they fear no mortal, not even parents. She jotted on her order pad deliberately and silently as the father and mother gave their luncheon selection and gratuitous instructions as to what was to be substituted for what, and which dressing changed to what sauce. When she finally turned to the boy, he began his order with a kind of fearful desperation. “I want a hot dog–,” he started. And both parents barked at once, “No hot dog!” The mother went on. “Bring him the lyonnaise potatoes and the beef, both vegetables, and a hard roll and –”
The waitress wasn’t even listening. She said evenly to the youngster, “What do you want on your hot dog?” He flashed an amazed smile.
“Ketchup, lots of ketchup, and —and bring a glass of milk.”
“Coming up,” she said as she turned from the table, leaving behind her the stunned silence of utter parental dismay. The boy watched her go before he turned to his father and mother with astonished elation to say, “You know what? She thinks I’m real! She thinks I’m real!”