sutchwazeye
02-20-2004, 12:01 AM
Back when I was a boy, if you had a red satin lining
in any of your clothing, you had class.
You would be the envy of everyone in school
if you could afford something, with that desired red lining.
My mother being an accomplished seamstress,
was familiar with all the styles of that time.
I would watch her day after day,
sitting at her old singer sewing machine.
Making and altering clothing, for the wealthier residents of our small town; was how she, as a single widowed parent, made a living for us five children.
As I remember, there wasn’t anything special about this one particular day, but when I got home from school…there it was!
My very own, black fleece, red satin lined jacket.
Wow. Did I feel special and would everyone at school admire me.
I couldn’t wait for everyone to see me in it,
was I ever in for a big disappointment.
The teachers commented on how well it was made
and how good I looked in it.
I was on cloud nine, and then came recess.
My elation gave Raymond (the class bully)
reason to torment me, and that he did! He swore at me and then proceeded to grab the hood of my new, red satin lined jacket and drag me across the schoolyard.
I yelled for help. But no one came to my aide. I fought and fought until he finally let go of me. Frightened and humiliated I ran home; but not without fearing there would be another attacker on the way.
I ran through the door, took of that jacket, threw it on the floor and never wore it again.
Humiliated, I yelled at my mother for making that red satin lined jacket, it was her fault, she made me look like a sissy and I ran to my room and cried for hours.
How can people be so cruel, I thought?
that was my moment to shine, in my new red lined jacket?
It turned out to be one of the worse moments in my early childhood.
Although the pain is no longer there, I am amazed to realize, that even to this day I never wear anything red; in fact, I even hate the color on me.
Hummmmmm...makes one wonder,
just how much of our youth really influences our adult years?
Oh yeah, Raymond was made to apologize to me and we became friends after all…
go figure...
in any of your clothing, you had class.
You would be the envy of everyone in school
if you could afford something, with that desired red lining.
My mother being an accomplished seamstress,
was familiar with all the styles of that time.
I would watch her day after day,
sitting at her old singer sewing machine.
Making and altering clothing, for the wealthier residents of our small town; was how she, as a single widowed parent, made a living for us five children.
As I remember, there wasn’t anything special about this one particular day, but when I got home from school…there it was!
My very own, black fleece, red satin lined jacket.
Wow. Did I feel special and would everyone at school admire me.
I couldn’t wait for everyone to see me in it,
was I ever in for a big disappointment.
The teachers commented on how well it was made
and how good I looked in it.
I was on cloud nine, and then came recess.
My elation gave Raymond (the class bully)
reason to torment me, and that he did! He swore at me and then proceeded to grab the hood of my new, red satin lined jacket and drag me across the schoolyard.
I yelled for help. But no one came to my aide. I fought and fought until he finally let go of me. Frightened and humiliated I ran home; but not without fearing there would be another attacker on the way.
I ran through the door, took of that jacket, threw it on the floor and never wore it again.
Humiliated, I yelled at my mother for making that red satin lined jacket, it was her fault, she made me look like a sissy and I ran to my room and cried for hours.
How can people be so cruel, I thought?
that was my moment to shine, in my new red lined jacket?
It turned out to be one of the worse moments in my early childhood.
Although the pain is no longer there, I am amazed to realize, that even to this day I never wear anything red; in fact, I even hate the color on me.
Hummmmmm...makes one wonder,
just how much of our youth really influences our adult years?
Oh yeah, Raymond was made to apologize to me and we became friends after all…
go figure...