Many years ago, one of the African American girls in my fourth-grade class lived not too far away from my neighborhood area.
I had visited her home once or twice where she resided with her mother, father, brother and sister.
I think she had even come over to visit me at my house once.
I remember having a nice time on one of my visits. We played the physically interactive game of Twister on a carpeted floor in the company of others which was fun at the time.
I also remember Vicki (my classmate’s name) taking me on a tour around the house leading up to the hidden Christmas presents her parents had bought for her ahead of time.
There was a time at school when Vicki handed me an invitation to her upcoming birthday party.
When the day of the event finally arrived, I did not show up.
Within the days following at school, I noticed Vicki acting funny toward me and would barely speak to me.
I felt within my spirit that she was angry at me for not coming to her party.
So, I asked her.
I asked Vicki if she was mad at me because I did not attend her birthday party.
Vicki responded with the truth.
She admitted to me that she was angry at me for not coming to her party then we both left it like that.
I had mentioned the situation to my mother.
I explained that I did not understand why Vicki was mad when she had other children there at her birthday party to celebrate with.
My mother said my being there mattered to Vicki and the fact that I was not there to show up for her on her special occasion was a disappointment.
Sometimes we as people do not know or realize just how fond some people are of us and how much they may enjoy or value our presence and company.
