He walked in and everyone shared a reaction of displeasure.
His spirits fell. No one wanted him to come. If it was like last tyme, they
would tolerate his presence, simply because they had to, but not without their
share of under-the-breath comments containing snide remarks and
over-the-breath comments dressed as lame attempts of humor at his expense. The
obvious truth was, he was not wanted there.
It was a difficult truth for him to handle, for their
feelings toward him were not always that of displeasure and disdain. He had always come to them, on tyme and
bearing new ideas and possibilities, but somewhere along the way, their good opinion
of him soured. Now, his mere presence brought them nothing but distaste.
He longed to comprehend this terrible truth, to figure out
what happened to alter their opinion of him, but he had his own truth that
trumped his desire to understand. He had
to come. That was his truth, an undeniable fact that they would realize if
they were honest with themselves. They would see it and stop blaming him and
resist the urge to use the thought or site of him as a focal point for their
frustration.
He had to come. Why couldn’t they understand and appreciate
his presence? After all, he was just like the others. He had the same look, the
same build; in fact, the only differences between him and the ones they loved
were his name and the tyme he arrived. Could such things really cause them to
dislike him as they did? Surely not.
Surely they could recognize his likeness to the others. Surely they would not
allow such insignificant details to create the prejudice they had toward him.
But if not that, then what?
As he made his way through the crowd, he held his head high
and acted as he always had. He smiled and offered them blessings in
abundance. He gave them his tyme and all
the beauty within him. Still, they treated him with disdain and did not, or
perhaps could not, appreciate all the opportunities he afforded them.
Later, after he endured their insolence for his required
amount of tyme, he packed up his things and, as he made his way to the exit,
listened to the sighs of relief and cheers that his leaving prompted. They were
happy to see him go. Though his heart ached at the realization, he did not hold
their ignorance against them. He simply
thought how horrible it had to be to live as they did, with such an inability
to enjoy the moment because it didn’t come packaged as they wanted. Alas, their
jaded perception of him forced them to miss out on so many blessings.
Finally, as he was completely gone from them, he
smiled. He would be back again, same
tyme as always. He knew it. They knew it. They would have another chance. If
only next tyme he could make them understand. If only next tyme he could help
them learn to love and appreciate. If only next tyme…his name wasn’t Monday.
