Leighton thinks it is play time, so I am up anyway and have this on my mind. My brother Mike moved back to St. george where we grew up as kids for school and had to write a paper based on a movie they watched in class, then he tied in things that happened to us as kids, mostly me. I didn't ask him if I could use this and hope its ok. Just a taste of the things I went through growing up. everything he wrote about me or us is 100% true. This paper even made his teacher cry! Here it is:
Walk a Mile in My Shoes
Bacheha-Ye aseman. We all once were. We all still are. Children of Heaven reminded me of the hell my sister and I went through. Growing up is rough and it certainly helps if you have good soles on your shoes. It was comforting to me to see Iranian children living life not all that unlike mine. I could not understand their spoken language but I did understand their hardships, heartaches, helping hands, and happiness. The film struck me with deep ponderings and stung with heavy emotions as great art tends to do. I left class with a sigh of satisfaction and a smile while thinking of my sister. She and I shared so much as struggling siblings in sunny St George.
Mandi and I were one and two of four blonde tikes. I was born in the summer of ’82. She showed up in the spring up ’84. Being as close in age as we were made for an understanding of one another I didn’t get from Mekell and Matthew until they were much older. Those blasted teenage years tore us apart as we fought often for no real good reason. While even then though the bond was never broken. She was my sister and when push came to shove in the real world we stuck together.
We had a community pool at our condo in Dixie Downs. I remember my dad would toss me up in the air then catch me in the water. I still remember it feeling like I was 30 feet in the air. I was 5 years old and skinny but still how did he throw me that high? Pops had sis this time but he was pushing her around like a boat in a rubber duck floater. I guess she wasn’t too keen on flying. I only have one memory of what happened next. I looked over to see Mandi being tended to on the side of the pool with people standing and kneeling over her. She had slipped under and out of sight somehow and was found face down. My dad performed CPR on her until an ambulance arrived. Hearing him retell the story to me tonight was hard for him. His memories are from the point of view of a terrified father scrambling to save his baby. He had an image stay with him of when she came to she kept trying to say daddy but her teeth were clenched too tight. He said it looked like she was looking through him with her blue eyes. My mom said I spotted her while I was jumping in and out of the pool. I just recall not being able to do anything but watch.
I was asleep in my room early evening when I awoke to a neighbor picking me up. I was taken by the hand to the porch where it was explained that my sister was hurt but going to be okay. I was six and she was four. We lived in Santa Clara next door to the Judds. I looked across the street to the Whitehead corner residence where a large gathering of people stood amidst flashing lights and wailing sirens. Everyone played at the Whiteheads but me maybe it was because of their big dog. I was scared of everything. I saw a paramedic carrying my sister in his arms with her face wrapped like a mummy. She had one big blood red spot on the top. That dog had gotten her. She got sixty stitches in her face but the eye was saved. You can’t tell looking at her now unless you look closely. From now on I was going to look after her more closely.
We were floating down the Portneuf River in big yellow rented tubes. I was 13 Mandi was 11 years old. The bickering was just getting started during these years. My little friend was now just a tattletale. Nevertheless we had a river to ride on this our annual family reunion to Lava Hot Springs Idaho. She was ahead as we came around this bend. This was the good one where the rapids pick up so time to hold on tight. I saw her hit one and flip out. She popped up just barely enough to scream. I jumped out of my tube and grabbed her. “Hold on you okay” I yelled. She grabbed me tight. “I’m stuck. My leg is stuck in the rocks,” is what I heard her say in between water crashing on top of her. “I’ve got you,” I reassured her. I was holding onto the tube which was our escape out of this death trap. Meanwhile hers had floated down and out of sight now. I had a decent footing considering the slippery rocks but the water was pounding me. I was not letting go of this tube and I sure as hell wasn’t letting go of her. She broke free and I pushed her into the tube then as it started to go I swam behind then climbed in with her. Her legs were bleeding from the rocks cutting her. She was crying I was catching my breath. We had no desire to finish the river so we got out at a shallow point and walked the rest of the way. She was worried about the tube because we would have to pay for it. I told her we’d be okay and put my arm around her. Not my sister, not today River, not on my watch.
We shared sweets and secrets but thankfully not smelly old shoes. The story of Children of Heaven really isn’t about those scuffed sneakers but rather the struggle and satisfaction we all share. Now while I and many others wanted to see those new shoes in the end I was happy knowing they were on their way. I was content watching those sore tired feet sit in cool water after a race hard fought and won. We knew those tears would fall but would soon be gone and replaced by a smile and warm embrace. Those feet would be comfy soon enough but for the time being let’s appreciate the journey they’re on.
I loved this movie because it is life. It is hard and exhausting. It is beautiful and exhilarating. There will be a trove of treasures both lost and found. Your bike will crash into a tree, your shoes will get wet in the gutter, you will trip and fall down, and your heart will be broken. But there are bubbles to be blown, fists full of treats to eat, new friends to meet, and new shoes waiting for those blistered feet.
what a story huh? I remember every detail of all 3 stories he told. Yes, even the ones where I was 3 and 4. I really do. I put my poor parents (and I guess my brother too) through an awful lot. Ps I really wasn't a tattle tail, he made that up ;) oh wait, yes I was! ha ha.
anyway, don't know why this as on my mind. I sure am grateful to be alive. Hopefully I don't keep this up... I may be out of lives soon :) ps this dog that mauled me left a scar on my eye lid that looks like a backwards "c" that my mom said it is a c that stands for cute. ha ha ha. maybe :)
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