A couple of weeks ago I got the dreaded “Your recent mammogram was abnormal” letter. Yesterday, I was sitting in the waiting room of St. Luke’s Hospital in Houston, Texas, waiting and taking deep breaths, when another woman, a bit younger than me, came in and turned in her paper work. I had her pegged immediately.
“Slender, with understated, upscale dress, expensive black flats and a casually coiffed hairstyle.”
Everything about her screamed “Tasteful.” In other words, she was a “town kid”.
Growing up in West Texas there were two groups of kids – town kids who lived in town and country kids who lived in the country and rode big yellow buses from the farms or ranches into school. And we all knew which kids belonged in which group.
Now I loved living in the country on our farm: I loved running about in the pastures and pretend-swimming in irrigation ditches and gazing at cotton fields and mesquite bushes as far as I could see. I loved white and yellow buttercups and dark eyed Susans, sunflowers, silver-leaf nightshades with their tiny yellow balls, even goathead and sticker plants (Not to step on of course!) I knew each cow and pig not just by name but by breath and heart. But when I was with town kids, these details that filled the nooks and crannies of my country days disappeared. So I learned to smile and sit uneasily with the town kids who wore their store-bought clothes easily while drinking bottled cokes.
And yesterday, when the receptionist announced that they only had one room and were running a bit late, TownKid spoke up,
So does this mean that if my appointment is at 10:15, that I won’t get in until 11:00? Listen, I have to get back to my office from lunch.
CountryKid sat uneasily worrying about her 9:45 appointment and then, propelled by years of unease, blurted
My appointment was at 9:45
You’ll be next m’am
I sat back and looked across the room. Taking a deep breath, the thought came. “I’m not a country kid. I’m a woman waiting and hoping against hope that I don’t have breast cancer. And so is she.” And for that moment, I put away my childish things*.
Did I hear you say that you have to get back to your office?
And my companion in hope turned to me.
Oh thank you so much, but its really not necessary.
At the end of the day, I got the good word. And I hope that she did too.
And I hope to remember to cherish the wildflowers, animals and child more – while reasoning as a child about my fellow man less.
When I was a child, I spoke and thought and reasoned as a child. But when I grew up, I put away childish things. 1 Corinthians 13:11