Writing 101, Day Sixteen: Serial Killer III
Today, imagine you work in a place where you manage lost or forgotten items. What might you find in the pile? For those participating in our serial challenge, reflect on the theme of “lost and found,” too.
I Have Feelings Too
Ronovan recently wrote The Disguise of Contentment. In it, he said, “I’m the one that gets out of the car slowly from the handicap spot.” And he asked, “Do you get yelled at as you get out of the car because you ‘look’ healthy?”
It is an eye-opening article. He is right. Even though there are a few people have cheated the system, we shouldn’t assume everyone does, no matter how healthy he or she looks.
I want to thank Ronovan for writing this. His article reminds me that no matter how sure I am, I may still not know the whole truth.
Now, if you allow me, I have a story to tell you too. Today’s Writing 101 assignment is to write about something you find in “lost and found” pile. I’ve found a piece of memory that I have conveniently forgotten.
When my daughter was 9 or 10, one day we went to Arby’s for lunch. As soon as we got out of the car, I saw a woman in a wheelchair trying to get herself and the wheelchair onto the walkway. The walkway is about 5 or 6 inches higher than the ground. A couple of times she managed to get front wheels onto the walkway, but since she didn’t have enough strength to keep pushing, the wheelchair rolled back.
I rushed to her and asked, “May I help you?” (I didn’t know if I should say “can I” or “may I”. I wanted her to know I was going to help her so she knew what was going on.)
To my surprise, she turned to me and yelled, “NO! Why can’t you guys leave me alone? Why do you always assume that people like me need help?”
I had never been yelled at, and there I was… being yelled at in a public place in front of my young daughter by a stranger whom I tried to help. Just because I am healthy (I was then), it doesn’t mean I have no feelings. I can’t tell you how horrified I was.
It’s a piece of memory that I’ve tried to forget. Now that I am older, I truly believe that we need to communicate more and better. Communication is the key.
(Picture was taken in Australia. I should save that for Cee’s Odd Ball Challenge. 😉
Thank you for mentioning my article. Communication is the key to understanding. 🙂
Thanks, Ronovan. Yes, communication is the key to understanding. That’s why you wrote your article and I wrote my story. I feel good for both of us. (I should write “Communication is the key to understanding” instead of “Communication is the key” 🙂 Thanks.)
Hmmm…I don’t know…but I suppose understanding would make everything better. 🙂 I’m the guy with the pain and 24/7 migraines. Don’t listen to me. 😀 muahahhhaah
Hi Helen, good story. There is stupid people everywhere independent of their physical disabilities, I don’t think they should use it as an excuse to be stupid. This lady could have said “thank you, I can manage”.
Hello, Elizabeth. Yes, I wish the woman would tell me “no, I don’t need help”… she didn’t even have to thank me. As an introvert, I would be more than happy to leave her alone if I knew she didn’t want anyone to help her.
After so many years, it’s still not easy to write about the event. Thanks, my friend.
It is a sad fact but true, people are people, be they fit or handicapped, sometimes it’s the bitterness caused by their misfortune that overwhelms their ability to acknowledge an offer to help, instead turning it into a reminder of their inability to function in the normal accepted way.
I agree. I was very sensitive when I was young, easily feeling hurt. But now I can see things behind the surface. I understand there is a story behind why we do things the way we do. I guess that’s part of growing up or growing old 😉