Wendy
What's in a name?
I will never forget that summer of 76. The memories are so entrenched in my mind as are the life lessons from the amazing people I met. It seems like yesterday yet it was so long ago. I had just walked out of the my hangout called "Billiards West", it was a little after midnight and this 14 year old needed to get home. As I walked across Broad Street I noticed a silhouette off the distance. As I got closer I could tell that it was a young girl sitting on the curb. I approached her and ask if she was okay. At first she didn't look up, she just whispered "yes I am fine".
I don't know about you but I bet there have been times in your life that you whispered those ever delicate words "yes I am fine" while the wounds at the core of your soul are hurting so bad with no relief in sight. It is those times that loneliness takes on new meaning. Those moments in life are non discriminating, as you know. It doesn't matter if you are rich or poor, healthy or sick, religious or agnostic, the wounds of life effect us all.
Beings it was already late and I doubt anyone knew I was out anyway, I decided to sit down and try to engage her in conversation. I asked what her name was, and at that very moment I realized how fragile life truly is. To others this may have seemed insignificant but to me it was a tidal wave of pain, love, sadness, joy, and every other emotion you could imagine all wrapped up together. All I did was ask her name, the response is something I will never forget. She raised her head, turned and looked at me. I could see the depth of sorrow in her very being. She tilted her head and said "I don't have a name".
I thought I was street wise and to many I was. I had encountered every imaginable scenario of survival that a 14 year old could yet for some reason this captured my heart in ways nothing before it had. My response seemed so basic yet it was heart felt, I asked her "how can you not know your name"? She said "no one has ever told me my name and what does it matter anyway". Not to be deterred I asked her "what do people call you"? She said the kids at school just call her "Baggy" and her Dad calls her "Ugly" and her Grandmother calls her "Worm". I was at a loss for words. What seemed like hours was actually minutes, but I promise it was an eternity to me. I asked her "what name may I call you". She smiled, finally, and said would you mind calling me "Wendy".
Those that know me have heard stories about Wendy. How I wish I could go back in time and find this person that left such an indelible mark on my soul. We spoke till dawn that summer morning. I learned more about life in six hours than I have learned since then. Thank God Wendy and I met a few more times after that. Her smiles got bigger, her confidence was brighter, and her embrace of her name was delightful. Wendy was still called Baggy, Ugly, and Worm by others, but in our heart, mind, and soul she knew exactly who she was, she was WENDY.
I am making this story short however trust me when I say it's impact has meaning far more than you could ever know. Have you ever felt invisible to someone? Have you ever treated someone with a tone of indifference? Even though Wendy was treated disrespectful by others she never responded in kind. She had the strength to rise above the bigotry of others. Some may say she was beat down and had become callus to her surroundings. I, for one, know that Wendy was the epitome of love, the true meaning of heart, the warmth of peace, and the faith that produces miracles. I witnessed her tears, her laughter, her sorrow, and her joys, We were truly friends.
As you know my time out west in the summer of 76 ended abruptly and I was never afforded the opportunity to say goodbye to my wonderful friend. I do however recall our last time together. We were walking down Palmetto and she said "this is where I live". I was shocked at the sight I saw. Before me was a beautiful home that looked like it had every luxury known to mankind. She told me that she lived with her Dad and grandmother and that her mother had died a few years back. Her dad was a business man that was hardly ever home and when he was he stayed drunk. She was basically raised by her Grandmother and she was very bitter and hooked on medication. Wendy loved her family even though she felt they did not love her. I didn't go in the house but we did sit on the porch and talk about life, hopes, and dreams. Wendy's heart was set on helping young girls learn that their lives matter. She wanted them to know that they had a name and that name was filled with love.
I walked home that Friday with plans to see Wendy Saturday afternoon at the park. The winds of life blew me a different direction as we loaded up the next morning and headed east. To this day I think about her everyday. In my dreams Wendy made an impact in the lives of many. I can only hope that late night we first met was divine intervention from a loving God. I don't know if I needed her or she needed me. To this day I don't make assumptions about the feelings of others. I realize that we all have a story and we all have wounds. The lesson I took away from my time with Wendy is this. The past chapters in my book of life are finished yet the future pages are yet to be written. I can look back with love and gain wisdom for the journey forward or I can look back with bitterness and build walls around me. I have chosen to write the next chapters with peace, love, and hope. Oh, one final thing, my life has a name and I respectfully call it "Dale". Never forget that you too have a name.
peace and love
Dale
I will never forget that summer of 76. The memories are so entrenched in my mind as are the life lessons from the amazing people I met. It seems like yesterday yet it was so long ago. I had just walked out of the my hangout called "Billiards West", it was a little after midnight and this 14 year old needed to get home. As I walked across Broad Street I noticed a silhouette off the distance. As I got closer I could tell that it was a young girl sitting on the curb. I approached her and ask if she was okay. At first she didn't look up, she just whispered "yes I am fine".
I don't know about you but I bet there have been times in your life that you whispered those ever delicate words "yes I am fine" while the wounds at the core of your soul are hurting so bad with no relief in sight. It is those times that loneliness takes on new meaning. Those moments in life are non discriminating, as you know. It doesn't matter if you are rich or poor, healthy or sick, religious or agnostic, the wounds of life effect us all.
Beings it was already late and I doubt anyone knew I was out anyway, I decided to sit down and try to engage her in conversation. I asked what her name was, and at that very moment I realized how fragile life truly is. To others this may have seemed insignificant but to me it was a tidal wave of pain, love, sadness, joy, and every other emotion you could imagine all wrapped up together. All I did was ask her name, the response is something I will never forget. She raised her head, turned and looked at me. I could see the depth of sorrow in her very being. She tilted her head and said "I don't have a name".
I thought I was street wise and to many I was. I had encountered every imaginable scenario of survival that a 14 year old could yet for some reason this captured my heart in ways nothing before it had. My response seemed so basic yet it was heart felt, I asked her "how can you not know your name"? She said "no one has ever told me my name and what does it matter anyway". Not to be deterred I asked her "what do people call you"? She said the kids at school just call her "Baggy" and her Dad calls her "Ugly" and her Grandmother calls her "Worm". I was at a loss for words. What seemed like hours was actually minutes, but I promise it was an eternity to me. I asked her "what name may I call you". She smiled, finally, and said would you mind calling me "Wendy".
Those that know me have heard stories about Wendy. How I wish I could go back in time and find this person that left such an indelible mark on my soul. We spoke till dawn that summer morning. I learned more about life in six hours than I have learned since then. Thank God Wendy and I met a few more times after that. Her smiles got bigger, her confidence was brighter, and her embrace of her name was delightful. Wendy was still called Baggy, Ugly, and Worm by others, but in our heart, mind, and soul she knew exactly who she was, she was WENDY.
I am making this story short however trust me when I say it's impact has meaning far more than you could ever know. Have you ever felt invisible to someone? Have you ever treated someone with a tone of indifference? Even though Wendy was treated disrespectful by others she never responded in kind. She had the strength to rise above the bigotry of others. Some may say she was beat down and had become callus to her surroundings. I, for one, know that Wendy was the epitome of love, the true meaning of heart, the warmth of peace, and the faith that produces miracles. I witnessed her tears, her laughter, her sorrow, and her joys, We were truly friends.
As you know my time out west in the summer of 76 ended abruptly and I was never afforded the opportunity to say goodbye to my wonderful friend. I do however recall our last time together. We were walking down Palmetto and she said "this is where I live". I was shocked at the sight I saw. Before me was a beautiful home that looked like it had every luxury known to mankind. She told me that she lived with her Dad and grandmother and that her mother had died a few years back. Her dad was a business man that was hardly ever home and when he was he stayed drunk. She was basically raised by her Grandmother and she was very bitter and hooked on medication. Wendy loved her family even though she felt they did not love her. I didn't go in the house but we did sit on the porch and talk about life, hopes, and dreams. Wendy's heart was set on helping young girls learn that their lives matter. She wanted them to know that they had a name and that name was filled with love.
I walked home that Friday with plans to see Wendy Saturday afternoon at the park. The winds of life blew me a different direction as we loaded up the next morning and headed east. To this day I think about her everyday. In my dreams Wendy made an impact in the lives of many. I can only hope that late night we first met was divine intervention from a loving God. I don't know if I needed her or she needed me. To this day I don't make assumptions about the feelings of others. I realize that we all have a story and we all have wounds. The lesson I took away from my time with Wendy is this. The past chapters in my book of life are finished yet the future pages are yet to be written. I can look back with love and gain wisdom for the journey forward or I can look back with bitterness and build walls around me. I have chosen to write the next chapters with peace, love, and hope. Oh, one final thing, my life has a name and I respectfully call it "Dale". Never forget that you too have a name.
peace and love
Dale
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