At the beginning of the week, I wrote about how sewing can become a blood sport. You remember the story of how my sister was bitten in the back by her friend? And how I was so furious I hunted her down and let fly with my tongue?
I’m that kind of person, you see: a kettle on full boil that explodes just like that. Then everything is forgotten and forgiven. I don’t really hold grudges.
However, for some, revenge is a dish best served cold. My sister (the one who got bitten) was not quite satisfied by me telling off Veryan for biting her.
So, in her own words, this is my sister’s tale of revenge and sharp pointy things:
“Yes, my dear big sis (that would be me!) took revenge, but I took my own sweet revenge when I least expected it. You see, we were in our Religious Education class and Veryan had to stand up and speak. She was in front of me. Lying on my desk was my compass – not the thing with magnetic north, but the sharp pointy thing which you can draw big circles with…
Oh yes, I remember…
… I jabbed it straight into her bum. And she screamed. (And screamed and screamed…)
And then I had to play it down. But I didn’t get into trouble.”
Yes, my dear little sister prodded her friend in the backside with a dangerous, sharp object – and she didn’t even get into trouble! Whereas I was in trouble big time just for being bad at sewing….
What kind of message was the school sending us? That as long as you do what your teachers tell you to (sis was a goody at school), then it’s OK to use people’s butts as a pin cushion… but if you have your own opinions and ideas and happen to be a tiny bit cheeky now and then (OK – most of the time), then you are not even allowed to make a mistake.
Luckily, I happen to believe that mistakes are lessons that give us wisdom; they are gateways to discoveries. Every success is built on failure. Or, as Bernard Shaw once said:
A life spent making mistakes is not only more honorable, but more useful than a life spent doing nothing.
If this is so, then my life is full of honourable moments!