Tuesday, May 24, 2016
There are two definitions for the word; will according to Oxford dictionary: will 1 and will 2. In this essay I'll be expressing will 2. The faculty by which a person decides on and initiates action: she has an iron will a battle of wills between children and their parents' [mass noun]: an act of will
Remember Christ Jesus had already tested my Flesh and Will when I was born. So now the first time he tests my Will on human kind is my mother. My mother was a loving, kind and gentle woman yet very stern. I am one of six siblings who is instilled with a great foundation, obedience being a strong point. We didn't have a lot but we never needed for anything. One of mom's golden rules was "waste not, want not," and "what I fix you will eat." I was four years old, mom had prepared for dinner pork chops smothered in gravy mashed potatoes and beets. I ate most of the meat, well the potatoes and beets no thank you. She was annoyed that I had eaten most of the meat and touched nothing else. So she asked "why haven't you eaten the rest of your food?", I remember answering "because it nasty, I don't like it and I don't want to." How's that for sweet honesty and innocence. It didn't set well with her and she said to me " hum well you're gonna eat it and you will sit there until you do, if it takes all night." So she shepherded the others off for baths and bed while I remained alone at the end of the table shuffling my food around my plate with my fork. It was now after seven thirty and she had returned to the kitchen to clean up. But first she warmed my food and sat at the table looking at me as if her presence would persuade me to change my mind. Glancing at the clock on the wall then staring at that awful food shuffling it around in my plate, feeling annoyed, confused and thinking why is she treating me this way. Meanwhile Mom's back at the kitchen sink washing dishes and talking on the phone to grandma. It's a quarter past eight I know it's past bedtime, 'cause bedtime was when the little hand is on the eight and the big hand is on the twelve. I hear her telling granny what I did then I hear her say, "she's a Willful ole child" glancing back at me, she didn't say stubborn or defiant. Finally the little hand was on the eight and the big hand is on the seven. I'm getting sleepy my head is bobbing so I push the plate of food aside and rest my head on the table. She must have turned around and noticed me, I hear her tell grandma "I gotta go, this child fell asleep at the table." I felt her pick me up and cart me off to bed caressing my head along the way leaving that plate on the table. I often wonder and concoct the things as a parent she must have been thinking. However well into adulthood with children of my own I did ask. All I got was a very subtle chuckle, the same chuckle I remember hearing as she carried me off to bed that night. I love you Mom always and forever R.I.P
Sunday coming I'll be writing about my Flat Line ordeal. I'm privileged to share with you how "His Will" along with "my Willpower" had a big role in my story of survival.
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