Saturday, August 04, 2012

Her name was Geneva

When I was twelve or thirteen My mom went to the hospital for an operation and was there for about a week.  Before she went my father and she hired a woman to help around the house with the cooking and cleaning and laundry.  She wasn't but around twenty-five, give or take a year or so, I really can't remember.  I do know it was during the summer break from school but after baseball season for little leaguers.     

  One could usually find me outside, now as well as then but while the lady worked for us one could find me by her side.  I found her to be most interesting as a person and beautiful besides.  I was fascinated by her and wanted to learn all I could.  I know she was married and that her husband was abusive, a drunk, and a lazy bum wouldn't hold a job.  "Why should he work when he has a woman to take care of him," Geneva told me. 

No, that wasn't her attitude but his. 

I was glad when my mom came home but was disappointed when she fired Geneva.  "Why?" I asked my mom.  "She's a thief.  All black people are thieves" Mom answered. 

I realized two things that day.  First, was that parents are not always right.  Geneva was not a thief.  I was always with her so she never had the opportunity.  Mom could not tell me what she was supposed to have taken.  I believe Mom was jealous because I adored her and she did an excellent job. 

I also learned that our prejudices hurt people that don't deserve to be hurt.  Mom deprived Geneva of a few days income that she needed, robbed her of her dignity, took from me a friend and denied me the change to say goodbye.  It has been over fifty years but I think of Geneva often and have never forgot the lessons I learned from her. 

When I was in high school one of the most popular places for kids to go was the Hickory Community Center.  They had basketball courts, pool tables, a bowling alley, swimming pools, and ball fields.  The year I left for college is the year the city schools were integrated and when I came back for the summer I went to the Community Center hoping to reconnect with some old friends only to discover it was now private property and one had to buy a membership to enter.  They were five dollars, which was a lot of money back then and I could not see paying that much for one evening so as I was pondering what to do a young black kid came up and wanted to by a membership.  "We have sold all our memberships" the kid was informed.  After he walked off, I asked one of the people why he had been turned down when they had just offered to sell me a membership. 

"Well, there are some people that just would not fit in" a lady replied.  I thought about Geneva and how she was hurt just because of her skin color and I knew it wasn't fair or right. 

"I've changed my mind" I told the women.   I paid my five dollars, got my membership card, and then walked over to the black kid and gave it to him, and then just went home. 

I was reminded of this story today.  I went to a special church service and a young woman asked if she could sing a song and she sang "Jesus loves me."  It's a child's song but it was appropriate because this woman had the mind of a child but it was obvious that what she did she did from the heart.  I talked with her after the service and told her I was touched by her song.  She says that sometimes the kids laugh at her.  "Before I got saved it would make me mad.  I don't know why people laugh at me.  But now I let Jesus handle my problems and I just do what he wants me too." 

Maybe she does have a learning disability but I believe she has a better understanding of what being a Christian is than most adults.  A person with less abilities than we have do not need our scorn but our understanding, support, encouragement, and help.  We should never make fun of people different than we are but admire and respect their uniqueness.         

I am amazed all all the things we use to hurt other people with.  It could be because of their skin color, or because of their height, or because of what section of town they live it, or their intellectual prowness or lack thereof, or their weight, or their looks, or their accent, or any one of a million differences.  None of this is neccesary.  If we believe we are superior  to another, we already have our reward and to remeind others of their differences only makes us look of less value. 

I discovered while in school, it doesn't matter who you are or what you did or didn't do, there would be at least one person who didn't like you and would make it a point to let you know.  I don't expect everyone to like me.  I don't really care.  But I do care if you want to try to make me feel bad about who I am.  You don't have that right.  While in school, I was small but I was much stronger than I looked, and fast and I stood up for myself.  Later in life I left behind the physical part and handled my problems through my brain power.  Today I handle my problems by my maturity. 

Geneva wasn't trying to educate me or change me.  She had found a friend and she enjoyed talking to me because I enjoyed listening.  Isn't that something we all like from time to time: just to have someone listen and find us interesting.  Life is tough enough without people hating on one another.  I learned a lot from a lady named Geneva. 

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