The Tale of Three Cousins

Most people have special people in their lives that play a very significant role. I remember two people who were very important to me as a child that I seldom think of now. They were my cousins, Chris and Cindy.

Chris, Cindy and I grew up together for several years; from the time we were toddlers until I was about ten years of age. Chris was a year older than I was. Cindy was a year younger. Last I heard, Chris had joined the army and went to Germany. Cindy had gotten married with two kids. I have not seen them for years. It seems strange how distant we have become when we were at one time so close. When I think about it, it almost seems like yesterday.

It was a hot summer day out in the country. Mom had sent all of us kids out to play. We were all Sweaty and very dirty; a little boy, six years of age; and two little girls, four and five. Chris and I were running. We had been playing chase. Cindy was smaller than we "big" kids were and could not keep up. She whined and whined for us to wait for her. I just sort of ignored her and went on with our game.

Mom called us in for dinner. We all went running up the porch, leaving little muddy footprints behind us with every step. After we had eaten, mom told us to go back outside and play. Our fathers had come home by that time and we were underfoot and in everybody's way. Cindy started to whine again, and I decided I had had enough of her. I looked over at the kitchen table and saw an empty bread bag; it was the only weapon I could find to use in my assault. I picked it up and started hitting her. She began to bawl and said that I was hurting her. I rolled my eyes in my head because I knew hitting her with practically nothing could not hurt!

She continued her whining and went to tell on me. I sat in the corner and thought for a moment. I decided to give her a reason to cry. On the end table in the living room was my ceramic Eskimo thermometer statue. I picked it up, put it in the bread bag, and hurled it round and round like David and Goliath. With great force, the bag landed on the side of her temple.

Cindy's face was blue from screaming so hard. Everybody rushed to her side to take care of her. A huge knot was forming on the side of her head and her mother was applying an icepack. Everyone kept saying that Cindy had hit her head on the door. Cindy never said any different. The cruelty of what I had just done hit me. I crawled behind the television in the corner and cried. Cindy never told on me and I never told her I was sorry. I never confessed my crime.

The incident I just relayed is only one of many. Chris thought he was too big to play with Cindy and I just usually went along with him. It is a true saying that sometimes children can be the cruelest, especially to each other.

As we grew older, our families moved into a nearby town. We continued to play together, and the brother and sister continued to be at odds. By this time, I was beginning to realize that Chris was just being a big bully and Cindy was not always in the wrong. Even though I sympathized with Cindy, somehow I always ended up on Chris' side when they were in a fight. Cindy was left by herself and usually went into her room and cried. They even fought over whose side I was on when they were fighting!

One time, we all got the flu together. Seemingly, we planned to get sick together, as we were together in everything else we did. The cousin's father made hot toddies for us. Chris and I drank ours down, but Cindy just sat staring at her cup. She looked so pale and I felt sorry for her. I did my best to convince her to drink it down and she would feel better. Finally, she conceded and drank the concoction. She gave me a sheepish grin. I realized this was probably the only time I had ever been nice to her.

A few years later, we were all playing a game together. We were sitting on the concrete by the front door of the house. We were playing a game where we told each other what we liked and did not like about the other. This was not a very safe game for us to be playing considering our history, but judgment was not our strongest point. We thought of ourselves as more mature now and able to handle this outpouring of emotions.

When Cindy's turn came to say something about me, she sat in silence for a moment. I began to wonder if she was going to say anything. Then, she smiled and mentioned how I had helped her feel better when she had the flu. I smiled back. I felt ashamed she could not remember more good things about me. I had always been so rotten to her.

I realize that we were only children then and much changes as you grow older. Long ago, I was cruel to someone who was very close to me. I had no reason to be cruel, yet I was. I hurt this person and never cared much that I had done so. She never quit liking me even when I treated her bad. Without realizing it, I had hurt myself much worse than I had hurt my amiable cousin. She taught me a lesson about respect and love and about turning the other cheek. I pray it is one lesson that I will never forget.