Craig Vick's Scattered Thoughts

Adventures in Virtual Community

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Apologies to Sam


Sam liked to impress the teacher. There’s nothing wrong with that, but in junior high it seemed to me to be a sin of the worst kind. Respecting the teacher was fine. Trying to be the teacher’s favorite crossed a dark line.

It was the first day of the semester. The teacher, whose name I’ve forgotten, was new. Sam’s desk was next to mine in the middle of the classroom. The teacher was explaining the rules. “You must raise your hand and wait to be called on before talking”, the teacher explained.

I looked at Sam, smiled and whispered, “I don’t have a hand.” Poor Sam took the bait. He blurted out in a loud voice, “Craig doesn’t have a hand.” The teacher was not amused. Her face burned with anger and disgust. Sam was chuckling at his success in using my little joke until he saw the teacher’s face. One look reduced him to silence.

Confession is good for the soul. I freely admit that I knew exactly what I was doing. Sam, if by some strange chance you’re reading this, please accept my apology.



Brotherly Love

I was twelve years old. My brother was seven. He took our Beagle Gigi out for a walk and came home in tears. He had wandered into a part of our neighborhood that was new to us. A couple of children living there had thrown sticks and rocks at our dog. My brother ran all the way home.

Being older, I realized it was my responsibility to come to the defense of my brother and of our family pet. I put Gigi back on her leash and set out for a walk. After a short time I came near the house of the Beagle violence. The two culprits were playing in their front yard. When they saw me they stopped in their tracks. Their eyes were wide open. Their jaws dropped. Astonishment, wonder and a little fear found expression in their faces. I should probably explain to my readers that have never seen me in person – I’m a congenital amputee, missing both arms below the elbow and my left leg at the knee.

The older and braver of the two children found his voice. “What happened to your hands?”, he asked. To which I responded, “You see that dog!”

We never had any problems after that.