The Pierini DIET - click here to learn moreMonday morning at 3:00 a.m. - about one hour before my busy work season wake-up time - a knock on our bedroom door awakened my wife and me. It was a young man who is temporarily residing in our home. He's young enough to be a young son; actually he is 8 years younger than our son. My wife and I are lending him a helping hand because he's experencing difficult times right now and we’ve opened our home and hearts to him.
His knock on the door was accompanied by calling out my wife’s name. There was something about the tone of his voice that we both sensed he was scared. My wife got out of bed while I tried to catch another hour of scarce sleep before beginning another marathon work day at my office.
It turned out that he was terrified by mental images that danced in his head, perhaps from a bad dream and/or recent events in his currently-challenged life. Whatever it was doesn’t matter but only that he felt scared at the moment and needed some comfort. I must admit that our large two-story 105-year old home could make someone feel scared, particularly a trip to our basement or being home alone at night.
Tuesday evening, my wife and I talked about this young man’s experience and what it feels like to be afraid or scared of someone or something. As a young boy, I remember being scared to go upstairs at night when we lived in an old two-story home much like the one we live in now. I remember turning on every light possible in my nighttime trip from our first story living room to my second story bedroom.
Other past scary experiences I’ve had came to memory in our conversation. I’m sure just about everyone from my generation has a scary memory of the first time they saw the Wicked Witch of the West from the classic Wizard of Oz movie. Years later as an adult, I remember when I learned that the actress who played this witch-character had died. In a conversation with a secretary in my office, I made a jestful comment that there now wasn’t a person on the earth that I feared.
Well I wasn’t telling the truth because the truth is that however tough we are both mentally and physically, everyone is scared of something.
Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum
1 comment:
When I was a young boy one of my older brothers convinced me that the boogie-man resided in our closet -- needless to say, my older brother would purposely leave the closet door opened about 2-3 inches at night -- did I mention that I still harbor hate for my older brother… Other than that, my mom had a painting of Saint Monica in a dark hallway, to this day I fast walk past any painting with eyes. Now that I’m older all I have to fear is fear itself, and the IRS. :)
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