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The Blessing
When I ponder the word blessing, I usually think of rewards or gifts I receive for being a good kid and doing right, love I share with others that I receive as a result of giving love in return. The blessing bestowed on me yesterday was different. It came in the form of a pink detention slip.
I am by no means what you would call a ‘bad kid,’ or a rebel. In fact, this slip held the honor of being the first bestowed upon me this semester. I knew of its approach, though I hadn’t engaged in violence or cheated on a test or anything like that. My crime seemed simple enough: one day eleven years ago the man and woman I call mother and father gave birth to an annoying, notoriously late baby boy I am obliged to call brother. Unfortunately, the little devil had been disinclined to roll out of bed in a timely manner five times this semester.
When I examined the cause for this punishment, which entitled wasting an hour of time that could be spent studying for the exams I had next week while staring at a wall in silence and boredom, my instant reaction was one of outrage. Surely I did not deserve the same sanction given to those who committed far worse misdemeanors than I, blasphemies like wearing too short a skirt on chapel day or smiling when being delivered to a serious lecture by a higher authority. Fuming and ranting throughout the days leading up to what I came to call my cruel and unusual hour of torture, I failed to realize the good in my sentencing until I actually experienced it.
This afternoon I marched into the detention room with dignity and pride, holding my chin high and fixing a resolute expression on my face. All through the day I had been planning to spend the time dreaming up ways to act vengeance upon my brother, or formulating a list of the more productive, mostly academically related tasks I could be accomplishing during the time.
Then the hour began, and it seemed like a waste of energy to spend the time exercising intense emotions. Serenely quiet, a wave of peace settled over me. I felt my stress and worries fade away as I grinned with delight. A whole hour to think of nothing, a whole hour to escape from exam studying and finishing my science fair project! That hour became one of the most peaceful of my life, as I emptied my mind of all my worries, and embraced the emptiness left to me.
For the first time that week, I had an hour of freedom, a releasing of stress. Now, as I reflect on it, I recognize the time as the greatest blessing my brother has ever granted me, although unintentionally. I do think I shall sleep in that extra five minutes more often now. The price of an hour of peace is a few extra minutes of sleep in the mornings. Sounds like a win-win situation to me!
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