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Wednesday, May 05, 2010

fresh out of the oven

When I was about seven or eight, my parents took us on a trip to what I still consider to be heaven, Prince Edward Island. I was at that point in the peak of my obsession with Anne of Green Gables and felt like someone had just offered me the macdaddy of prizes. My parents being as awesome as they are devoted the trip to all things Anne. We saw Green Gables, walked through the haunted wood, and visited the White Sands Hotel. When we got to Charlottetown, we completed our visit with Anne of Green Gables: the Musical.

So, I'll be honest, this trip was awhile ago and I remember little to none of it. I remember the ferry ride to the island (now there's a bridge, how lame!), walking across the lawn in front of Green Gables, and a picnic in the forest along the coast. One of the few other things my fantasy-riddled memory has stored away is one scene from the musical. A few of the characters got together and sang about eating a healthy portion of humble pie. While I had heard the idiom prior to this experience, it was the first time I ever really understood the concept. In a few words, I took it to mean, "Suck up your pride." To my eight year-old mind, nothing could be more humbling than admitting to Rachel Lynde that you had done something wrong.

This early experience in a Canadian theater has been bubbling to the surface of my pensieve lately. Almost daily I find myself pulling another pie out of the oven and taking a heaping mouthful. I never realized what a challenge it was to ask for help. Sticking my needs on the back burner to be a friend to someone else. Admitting I'm doing alright. Striking up a conversation. Showing up at certain events. Making a phone call. Not making a phone call. Dealing with the mockery of buckeyes. Laughing. Crying. Painting. Cleaning. Make social engagements. Praying. Listening. Lately, all of these things require me to humble myself a bit further.

I don't remember any of the words to the song sung, nor the faces of the actors. I have a faint recollection of the sparse set. But more significantly to me today, I remember that feeling, of "sucking it up" and doing something. And Anne of Green Gables and how much I want to be her when I grow up. So rub-a-dub-dub, thanks for the grub. Dish me up another slice of humble pie, and a date with Gilbert Blythe. Amen.

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