I stand with my feet in the cool golden waters of the creek, in my hand is a smooth honey colored pebble. A leaf falls from a nearby tree and lands in the water, making faint ripples. Smaller such rings appear as a water skater lands and looks for tiny bugs. I drop the pebble as hear the “plop” as the water rings spread further and further apart. With a tiny motion, I disturbed the flow of this simple creek.
Each
action we undertake has a reaction. We affect all of those around us, whether
or not we are aware of it. We all drop pebbles into creeks, the lives of
others. There are numerous ways to drop a pebble and the ripples that emerge
are different every single time. The dropped pebble can cause a positive change
in someone’s life, or they can terrible consequences.
“Hey, Retard!” A dodge ball comes flying
at me, hitting my hip as if it was a missile. I can already tell that it will
bruise in a few minutes. As I move to sit on the bench, three more balls fly at
me. Two thump my back while the third finds its mark on my head.
“I’m already out!” I turn back and
face the three boys standing there in complete confidence, convinced that they
are allowed to do this.
“So?” The leader, a tall tan sports
player with dust colored hair spreads his arms. “This isn’t for bookworms,
Retard.” The boy to his left starts to throw another ball when Coach Percival
tells us to change and head to our class. I walk into the locker room, shaking
with the effort of keeping my feelings hidden. I can’t give them the
satisfaction of seeing me cry. I stifle a sob as I pull out my t-shirt. Why did
my teacher have to place me next to them? How long will I have to pray until we
get a new seating arrangement?
I sat between two of my tormentors
for the rest of the school year. Everyday new insults were added as they tried
to cheat off of “The Retard’s tests.” When the next year started, nothing
changed. My teacher finally found me sobbing in the bathroom one day. Although
I did not understand at the time what had happened, several bad ripples had
emerged in my creek. I refused to make eye contact, flinched every time someone
tried to hug me. Worst of all, my prayers had gone unanswered for so long that
I was convinced God abhorred for me. I hid in a fantasy world of books, build a
wall around myself; all because three boys dropped pebbles of doubt, hate and
fear into the creek of my soul. We may tease each other, but to some it is not
teasing. Every step you take, the smallest word you say can and will affect
those around you. I still struggle with what happened to me. What those boys
did has impacted my outlook on life, and the way I think of myself. Their
pebbles were thrown in with force, but we have the choice to gently let the
pebble skip cheerfully across the creek.
“Hey, are you going to Jen’s
party?” A tall boy with coffee colored hair stands in the doorway of my
mother’s classroom.
“I don’t know…” I trail off, trying
to come up with some excuse.
“I can give you a ride if you need
one.”
“I’ve got a lot of homework, Kaleb.”
I glance down at the desk, refusing to meet his gaze.
“It’s on a Saturday.” He strode over
and sat on the edge of the desk. “You’d enjoy it. We’re watching a movie,
playing games, the whole gang will be up there.”
“I don’t really know Jen that well.”
“She loves reading the same stuff
you do and is an excellent cook. You’d like her.” He bends down till his eyes
are level with mine. “Please Sis? You spend too much time avoiding people. I
promise I won’t let anything happen to you. You’re my sister, well, in spirit.”
“Alright,” I sigh and try to hide my
small smile from him.
“You’ll have a lot of fun, you’ll
see. I love you Sis.” The nineteen year-old college student wrapped his arms
around me, a mere fourteen year-old nerd, and pulled me into a bear hug. I
froze, no boy, not even my cousins had hugged me in years.
That hug, from a friend who became my
honorary brother, was a pebble. Unlike the first, it radiated kindness and a
form of love that I had believed to be dead. The initial ripples of fear and
confusion gave way to hope, support, loyalty and adoration. I could see the
light again, although I did not yet comprehend its meaning. Even now, I can
still feel the effects of that one hug in my internal creek. However, it was a
year later that my creek truly began to find its true course, with the help of
an avalanche of pebbles that were tossed in by three complete strangers.
“Sis!” Zach, a tall tan boy with
chocolate hair and earth brown eyes turns and looks for me. “Where are you
going?” He raises his voice, trying to make himself heard over the concert
music and the writhing crowd.
“I’m gonna buy some of that last
band’s stuff.” I point to the tents set up not too far from the stage.
He lifts one eyebrow. “Really? I’d
think you liked that kind of stuff.”
“I don’t, but they did a good job of
working with the crowd. Plus they mocked Twilight, I’m just doing it to support
them.”
“A’right, you want me to come with
you?” A look of concern crosses his face. This kid may not have known me for
long, but I can tell he thinks I’m too shy to go by myself.
“I’ll be fine,” I lie, Zach needs to
spend some time with his real sister, not the girl he claims as one. I turn and
let the flow of people take me to the line of teens and adults wanting to buy
Manic Drive merchandise.
“CD’S!” A girl comes out waving a
basket of CD’s. “Two for twenty bucks! Get them signed inside!”
“What
the heck, why not?” I raise my hand and give her a twenty as she hands me
the two albums. I stand there and look at the smooth cool covers that are now
mine. One is dark blue with the three band members standing under the title Blue. The other shows a wind-swept
desert and bares the phrase Reason for
Motion up at the top. I look up to realize that I am next in line to meet
the band.
A boy, only ten years older than me
meets my eye. His short black hair is on end from his recent performance. I
step forward, a compliment about his singing on my lips when he smiles at me. I
freeze, the hand holding the CD’s outstretched. Still holding my gaze he gently
take Blue and opens it. “Did you enjoy the show?” He inquires as he signs his
name.
“Yeah, you guys did a really good
job.” I bite my tongue. “Really?
That’s all you have to say to the kid?” He looks up as he hands my CD to
the guitarist, still smiling at me. I’m tempted to see if he is looking at
someone behind me. As I take Blue back
from the drummer, I look back at the singer. Why did he smile at me? He doesn’t
know me.
That smile, a tiny twitch of facial
muscles had a huge impact on my creek. That smile held words, as did the look
of kindness in his eyes. The singer (Shawn Cavallo) did not know that I did not
trust people enough to make eye contact; he just reached out and looked
straight into my dull and unused eyes. He did not know that only my closest
friends, my “brothers” gave me looks of kindness. I had never thought to look
for that in a stranger, but Shawn did. I thought about that smile for the rest
of the concert and until the next day.
The rain fell hard on the tin roof,
drowning out the sound of my father’s snores from the next room. I glance at
the clock as I lay my book down, the digital face reads seven a.m. Gazing
around my room, I spy two CD’s I bought at the concert yesterday. Careful as to
not wake my parents, I place the first CD in the player and press play. The
lyrics had been placed inside the cover and I read them while the music played.
“… thought I made a masterpiece,
compared it to clones I thought I made an art that was unique (Manic Drive,
“Blue”).” “That’s funny,” I was
having the same problems with my stories. I sit and listen, intrigued now by
the band who has the same creative problems as me. “Tried my own way, still I
can never feel at home. Please don’t remind me that I can’t do this on my own;
change my will to Yours... (“Blue”) “Change
my will to whose? Do they mean God? No,” I rub my arms. “No, he doesn’t care about me.”
The song switches, a slow piano
number begins. “…I need you closer, so take all I am, start again, bring me in
cause I need you… (“Closer”) “Do I need
God? He certainly has not done a good job of taking care of me.” I shudder
as a brief memory of the bullies flashes through my mind while the next verse
goes on. “We turn around and we curse his name, they convince us that our God
is dead and it’s His fault that we lost Him (“Closer”).” My head jerks back as
if I had been slapped. I sit there for a few minutes before
putting the second CD in.
“I know you’re hurting; your eyes,
they show me the truth and my heart, it hurts for you (“Tragedy”).” I frown in
thought, “does God feel pain for me? How
could he understand what I had gone through?” “How can I come to you when
life’s a tragedy?” I nod my head, even the song writers don’t get it. “I don’t
want to think that I’ll lose you over one mistake. I hope you try to find a place
for me in your heart…” “God wants a place
in my heart?” I bit my lip as I try to figure out this seemingly complex
puzzle. Then the song changes again, speaking of hiding from the past and
leaving God behind (“Crying”). That’s what I did, “should I stop running?” Tears of confusion start to build up as
the second singer sings his part of the chorus. “I’ll wait for you, if you want
me to. Look at me, in the eyes, cause it’s now or never (“Crying”).” “Has he been waiting, or have I left it too
late?” The second verse continues to describe the fears and doubts that I
have held for what seems an eternity. The tears start to fall from my eyes as I
try not to sob. “What have I done? Did I
really cut myself off from what I needed? Can I ever get it back?”
The last song begins, as I try to
read the lyrics with eyes floating in salty water. “My spirit came and created
light and since then I loved you (“Alive”).” The impenetrable wall I built
around myself trembles. “He loved me?" “I’m alive, I’m still here. Just seek and you’ll know
(“Alive”).” Once again I start to weep as the wall breaks. Somewhere inside I feel as if a final puzzle piece
has been placed in my soul.
The band Manic Drive dropped more than a
pebble in my creek. Their decision to start singing resulted in me gaining my
life back. They gave me the final push I needed to be in God’s arms. I found
out in the course of writing this paper that the main album that save me,
Reason for Motion, came out the same year that I lost my faith. The actions of three
Canadian boys in their mid-twenties made me become a true believer of Christ,
and they do not even know my name.
No matter what we do, someone is
watching. They are watching our actions and are being affected by them, no
matter how big or small the decision. What we do does have an impact, whether
we know it or not. Insults will lead others to ruin, and not just the victim.
People do judge us by the way we treat others. Small movements, such as a hug
can show someone the meaning of love in ways we could never understand. Perhaps
the most wondrous of all, we can change the life if a complete stranger without
knowing we have done so. We all drop our own pebbles in all the creeks around
us. The question is, what kind of pebble do we choose to drop?
Works Cited
Manic
Drive. “Blue.” Blue. Spring Hill, TN:
Whiplash Records. 2009
Manic
Drive. “Closer”. Blue. Spring Hill,
TN: Whiplash Records. 2009
Manic
Drive. “Tragedy”. Reason for Motion.
Spring Hill, TN: Whiplash Records. 2006
Manic
Drive. “Crying”. Reason
for Motion. Spring Hill, TN: Whiplash Records. 2006
Manic
Drive. “Alive”. Reason for Motion.
Spring Hill, TN: Whiplash Records. 2006
