Being Chosen for the Team

When I was young, I felt like Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer. All of the other children used to laugh and call her names. They never let poor Doreen play in any children’s games. I felt bad. I felt different. I felt unwanted.

My grandmother, of course, tried to make me feel better by saying there was something wrong with them. It really didn’t make me feel better. More importantly, it didn’t change the situation. They still wouldn’t allow me to play with them. Unlike Rudolph, no magical event occurred to change their minds. I had a lonely and unhappy childhood in many respects.

As I grew up, I realized that grandma’s putting them down wasn’t an effective solution for the problem of mean-spirited playmates. Children were mean from the beginning of mankind (Cain killed Abel) and still so today, made even worse by Internet bullying. For myself, what coping skills could I really expect to learn from my grandmother? She was a poorly educated, first generation American, stay-at-home-mom.

With education and living in other cities and states, I figured out from the school of hard knocks how to cope a bit better with being the odd person out. My standard self-protective retort became to apologize saying “I’m sorry. I did bring all three of my manners with me.” (One woman actually asked me what the three manners were. Lady, it’s a smart-Alec response. Hello?)

As I became involved with Gaithersburg Presbyterian Church, I learned that God chose me – even before I was born (John 15: 16; 1 Peter 1:2; Ephesians 1:4). How great a feeling to know I was picked for the best team ever!

Now, about those three manners….