"Cowardice asks the question...is it safe? Expediency asks the question...is it politic? Vanity asks the question...is it popular? But conscience asks the question...is it right? And there comes a time when one must take a position that is neither safe, nor politic, nor popular but one must take it because it is right." ~Dr. Martin Luther King

Wednesday 10 June 2009

Hayley , girl !

I wrote about Hayley six years ago. She was about three. They'd had a pre-view of a new child care centre.

A couple of hours after, having given the matter much thought, she informed her mother she would play with only one at the new place. The Chocolate Girl. And that she did. Their friendship lasted until they went separate ways once more.

Around the same time, there was a memorable event in my backyard. Hayley and her cousin Ryan of the same age, had bobbed like corks in the pool for a couple of summers wearing life-jackets. They graduated to leaping off the steps in unison into the shallow end , first with lifejackets, then without.

They were the youngest. Older cousins were jumping off the diving board into the deep end. Whatever else she was doing, Hayley watched .

Then came the fateful Saturday night. The two sisters were swimming after dark with a spotlight behind. That's when she decided.

She hugged her arms, bent at the elbows, close to her side, hands up, fists clenched. She moved towards the diving board with a sound in her throat that was half giggle and half whimper. She climbed up and inched her way forward, toes bent as if trying to grip the surface.

As she got close to the end we called "You don't have to do this Hayley Girl".

By then she had blanked us out. We knew she had to do it. Momentarily. she stood shivering... a slight , skinny, pale, slip of a girl. Then she went. She jumped as high and as far as she could into the darkness and a small thin disembodied voice came back to us with the legendary battle cry of the warrior.

GERONIMO !!!!! she shouted.

I often wondered what stamps a memory into a child's mind. Of all their new and different experiences, why does one scene etch itself in every tiny detail forever.

I wished I knew the secret so that I could create an inventory for each child of mine. It seemed to me a store of good memories would be an enviable resource...worth more than money.

I wasn't worried that Hayley was in the council chamber on May 12th. It was her night of triumph. She was to receive the plaqued poster she drew. Not least of the satisfaction would be that her sister Megan did the same thing several years before.

She had a ringside seat for the St.Kitts display. She knew she needn't worry about her Grannie. I knew she was soaking up another moment of glory.

Would anything shadow her memory of the event ?

I think not. Not our Hayley.

I know grown women AND men who don't have her integrity and fortitude.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

That was beautiful Evelyn!