Always tell the truth.
Liars Cannot be trusted
The Boy that Cried Wolf
Sayings or fables~~~only to name a few. I was raised to tell the truth. I was often reminded of fables where the outcome of lying was always bad, sometimes real bad! I mean, the thought of being eaten by wolves or having your body turned into firewood? I always knew there were bad consequences to lying. I usually tried to tell the truth, even when I was in trouble, however, reluctantly.
My Daddy was really big on telling the truth. We could get away with some things, but…lying was never one of them. It was kind of worthless anyway to try it, he knew everyone and it was seldom that we ever pulled the wool over his eyes. I can’t tell you how that put things into perspective, but I know that it worked. It was a reverent fear that we had and for the most part? it worked out pretty good for our parents.
My thoughts go back to the 7-year-old little girl who had good friends in the second grade. I loved it when someone had a school birthday party. It was usually a snack of some kind and often at least one of your friends would bring a present! The party seemed to last the entire day. During that particular era, there were no such thing as room moms, assigned party planners, etc. We had classmates and our teacher. Most of the time it was the teacher that provided the snack! We had parties throughout the school year, which was great! unless…… you were born in the summer.
Yep, that’s right. I was born in July! I would never enjoy the class party that lasted the entire day in my honor. I felt cheated. I was wronged! This was such an injustice for a seven-year old. So, I decided that I would intervene on my own behalf. I did the thing I was forbidden to do.
“Next week is my birthday” I said. Now, either my teacher really liked to have parties? or she totally trusted seven-year olds to be truthful about their birthday? Regardless, she never called me out on it. It was a tense week waiting to see if she would figure out that I was a summer birthday kid. Nope, party is on. My secret is safe.
Honestly, I couldn’t tell you what great snack we had that day, or who was there, or how apprehensive I was in living my lie. I can, however, tell you that one of my particular friends gave me a present, a small Raggedy Ann. She was beautiful and just for me.
Yes, this is her. I still have the doll after almost 40 years. Sadly, there is a reason I still have her to this day.
I had attentive parents. I don’t know how or when they found out about my fake birthday party? but they did. Luckily, I didn’t have to return the doll. It was a gift. Oh, I had to confess to my friend (I think she thought it was a pretty clever idea) but I was allowed to keep it. The doll was like today’s Elf on the Shelf, only this one hung around all year-long!
My mother fondly renamed her. She was no longer known as the beloved Raggedy Ann, she was referred to as “My Lyin’ Doll”. Oddly enough, I got over the shame of it all, but I never got over the lesson of lying. Sometimes I even wonder if my teacher knew all along that I was born in July? Probably. I like to think that she just didn’t have the heart to call me out. She could have been a summer birthday kid too!
So here today, she sits in my widow sill, posed for a picture for my blog. I can’t help but think that she still looks sad. I chuckle about her sometimes, especially when I remember cleaning out some of my stuff before leaving home. The doll appeared out of one of my boxes of stuff and my mother smiled and said. Oh, Here! – “Don’t forget your lyin’ doll” and…. always tell the truth (wink). Thanks, Momma for the reminder.