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Beauty, Love, Prejudgment, Wisdom, Youth

I Hate Talented People

Have you ever seen something so incredibly beautiful that your heart throbs so loudly you cover it because no one is allowed to see just how much you care?  Or, the person who sings so perfectly, that one feels like springing up, taking off their shoes and beginning swirling around and around until the colors inside simmer, soften and settle? What about listening to a person’s words that moves your soul like only beauty can? It leaves you so confused wondering just how your feelings got into their heart.   I hate talented people.

I love it when I underestimate people and what they can to. That underestimation reminds me of the magic in all of us. Like every human, I (in a moment of weakness), prejudge people.  My daughter has a friend.  He is small and thin in statue.  Fair skinned, he keeps his nappy, soft hair short and nicely styled.  He passes by and leaves a pleasing scent.  I hear the tenderness in his voice when he talks to my daughter.  She pokes him playfully. He reacts playfully at her every touch.  He glances at her, his eyes misty when she is not looking.   Those eyes linger along the lines of her body quite provocatively.  Feeling his glaze, she looks.  He turns away. But I see.

When I met him, I saw a boy.  He walked on his toes as if he were going to break out in a sprint at any moment. Always moving, never still, even when sitting, he does not stop moving. He walked on his toes as he shakes from being always cold. There was nothing special about him.  He was someone everyone would just not see.  He reminded me of Jimmy Cricket, Pinocchio’s little friend in the Disney cartoon. Nonetheless, my daughter loves him.  She says they are platonic-just a friend mom.  He agrees.  Yet, every free moment away from their busy college lives, they are together.  If she cries because the world is hurting her-again, he is there with a tissue and a shoulder.  Such a nice little boy!

One day my daughter conned me into going to a play at Christmas time.  The play was called, “A Christmas Carol.” She insisted I go.  I did not want to go. Why did I have to go? At my age, I have seen every kind of Christmas play invented. Yuk!  She begged. I caved. We went.  At the very least, I got to dress up. My friend is in the play she told me.  He asked me to come.  He does not think I will.

All dressed up, we entered the theater. The sets were beautiful as expected.  The music began.  I started to get bored.  I could not point out her friend.  She found him.  I guess I forgot what he looked like.  I watched just him.  The play was a musical with plenty of dancing and singing.  I watched him carefully in disbelief.  Was this young man indeed the very same person I had met some time ago?

Gone was the Jimmy Cricket person, who could not stand still and concentrate. Gone was the child-like boy.  In his place stood a mature young man.  Using a swagger quite becoming of his, he danced around with the grace of an athlete holding the young actress with such loving care.  Then, he opened his mouth and began to sing.

Oh my! Oh, my, my, my! His voice was absolutely nothing I thought his to be.  I was mesmerize. His voice was strong, rich-with a deep, superb blend of tenor drawl and baritone, soothing resonant sound.  If that is possible?  I felt ashamed. I  thought he was a puny little boy in an older boy’s body.  He was amazing.  He could sing, dance and speak better than well.  I hate talented people.

I began to look at him differently after that.  I am able to see pass what I accidentally saw him as-to see the fabulous person my daughter does not know she loves.  I no longer see him as an insignificant character in the play of life; but, one who will make a difference in what is produced in that life.  Turns out that skinny young man is a phenomenal talent I almost missed.  A very intelligent young man who just is not what people see him to be.

I told him who I thought he was.  He told me I was being kind.  Why kind I thought?  He said people judged him everyday of his life because of how small he is or how black he is not. Said such treatment has taught him to be who he is-not who people want him to be.

I hate talented people because, I wish there was more talent in me.



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