Have a Little Faith

Maybe I’m gullible. Perhaps while I’m often cynical and think the worst, I can also believe the best in others. I’ve seen a lot of bad things go down and truthfully have done things I’m not proud of.  I’ve portrayed the villain and damsel in distress so often I could have won an Oscar a million times.  There have been times I’ve been lied to and it felt like I was stabbed in the back. Quite honestly on more than one occasion I was the one holding the knife.

Older and wiser, I know I have matured. The grays in my hair are proof that I am not a mere child anymore. Having been the one with the ‘pants on fire’ I grasp the horrid feeling of being lied to. I teach my children honesty is the best policy. Could it be my difficult upbringing has made me believe in hard work? The little that I own, I worked for.  I can’t stand rationale some people have for doing wrong deeds. For example a person who steals food because they are hungry.  A person who robs a bank because he/she needs the money to pay a bill. What infuriates me the most are people who murder others for their clothing, cars, and lovers.  There is always another option.  There is always another way.  Having come from nothing, I would never take from others. I certainly don’t want my kids to be dishonest.

What is most hurtful is when you trust someone unconditionally and the trust is betrayed. It is one thing for a stranger to do dishonest things but when it comes from someone close it feels like that knife is twisting.
When I care for someone I will have their back no matter what. Unless proven otherwise. Foolishly or full heartedly I trust completely. Even if all the arrows seem to point in one direction, I think there has to be another way. There has to be some other reason for the situation. Maybe it is childish and stupid to assume someone I care for couldn’t possibly be guilty of some wrong doing.

My brothers and sisters had parents who would set traps to get the truth. My parents give just enough rope to hang ourselves. Strangely we would bust ourselves out. A trail of cookie crumbs leading to a bed or dirty hand prints on the broken vase. My husband and I use the same strategy on our kids. The way things are today there is less of a trail that can be left to identify the guilty one.

No one likes to have something (an object, money, food) taken from them.  When my husband and I were first married our laptop and palm pilot was stolen from our hotel room. Those things can be replaced.  It is really painful when it is special to them that cannot be replaced. Sometimes things are just misplaced. One time in high school I wore a necklace that was my late grandma’s.  For safe keeping I put it in my purse. I put the purse down to help with the special education class. In a blink of an eye the purse was gone! I was so upset and furious someone would steal my purse. Years later while working at the local Target store and man came up to me. I guess he worked at my high school as a janitor and remembered me. He said had my purse in lost and found this whole time!  He gave me the purse. I thought for sure it was stripped. The five dollar bill was still in there, a note from a friend and my grandma’s jewelry!

The best thing people can do is be honest and try to do the right thing. I know it is corny and ‘Barney’ like to sternly say that honesty is the best policy.  Everyone makes mistakes. That is part of life. It is how we learn from those mistakes that make us who we are.