As if it were yesterday


Forget it? no chance…

This daily prompt caused me to do  some soul-searching before I found it, hidden in the murky depths. Long forgotten save for when it occasionally resurfaces, stinging my conscience, the regret welling up from within, Horrible consequences which stem from the one horrendous act. I’ve just counted up how many years it is since it happened – 18 long years. oh how I wish never happened.

I had a few best friends at primary school, one who died when we were 12, between primary school and beginning at the local comprehensive. Most of my friends were, obviously never the same after that. However, the incident of my making was the year before.  A sweet girl had made me a best friend card. I half remember it now.

Which path to take?

I was in the corridor at lunchtime, the area on the right hand side where the benches were, along with two boys. I don’t remember why. What I do remember is the taunts, telling me it wouldn’t matter if I wrote something nasty. I don’t know why I didn’t just refuse and walk away, be the better person. The toss of a coin, or the fork in the road, which path to take, left or right. Anyway, I veered right. I don’t remember how the girl saw the card, if I was so callous as to hand it to her. I don’t remember the rest of the afternoon either, except a friend of the girl running after me, threatening to thump me. Nothing less than I deserved.


Next thing I remember is how I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. I think I told my mum I’d done something terrible and I hated it, the tears welling. My mum isn’t huggy particularly, but I remember she just held me while I cried. I remember my mum taking me round to the girls house. I was desperate to apologise, to make everything okay, or at least as okay as it could get. The girls response the next day, that she couldn’t forgive just like that.

I don’t remember us ever really talking after that. I remember her in the comprehensive though. I caused trouble for her then, stirred the pot. I heard her slating my old headteacher who had been very good to me. Instead of deciding it was nothing to do with me and leaving well alone, I went to another girl who shared the same religion as my old headteacher, and told her what I heard so she rounded on the girl. The first girl approached me in the playground, her eyes flashing with anger, telling me she wasn’t talking about our mutual friend but the old headteacher. and running off again. Why oh why, what is it about teenage girls, most of us have to gossip about this one and that one, separate in to cliquees to keep out one and not the other, and more besides. I remember my current bestie being by my side, who stuck by me even that day, and is still my bestie now, though many years have passed and we are many miles apart, and I have moved several times since then.

What now?

I still wonder about the girl I originally hurt. Where is she now? What is she doing with her life, is she happy, does she have children, a partner. Hoping and praying she is happy. The worst thing of all was the way I brought my Saviour into disrepute, No way for a Christian to act. I have done many hundreds, perhaps thousands of bad things since, thought this one of which I have written is the biggest regret of my life. Had we staying best friends, there’s every possibility I may have led her to Jesus, transforming her life and her confidence levels for once, and pointing her to the loving Saviour, to the love she was seeking. But all of that is history. I will never know. until one day, I will search for her in heaven, hoping someone else was a far better witness of Christ than I. Until then, I feel haunted by the mistake. Forgiven by Jesus but I cannot forget. I don’t think I ever will.

For the record, this, and one or two other incidents made me always decide to be a better friend than I was that day. I have tried, as far as possible, to use it for good. I guess that’s as much as I can do. The damage is done. Erase it? Yes please!


oh so long ago..

Today’s daily prompt: Dig through your couch cushions, your purse, or the floor of your car and look at the year printed on the first coin you find. What were you doing that year?  I found a pound coin dated the year 2000. Seems as though it was another lifetime altogether. For one thing, I was still in high school, in the fifth year, with another year of school left. If I recall correctly, that was the year we had to begin to seriously consider which universities we might realistically apply to. It was also the year of much hard work and tests and exams. The first year of something baffling called ‘Higher still’. really don’t know what else happened that year. I think it was the year I had my first boyfriend. I shan’t elaborate, tho he was lovely. Thirteen years ago I had no idea of the struggles to come. I an so glad I didn’t know. This should be proof enough that we are best not ask God what is to come even if it seems like a good idea at the time, and even if we want to know!

I’ll always remember these things….


Let’s get the tough ones over with, shall we?!

This is another post where I could write an epic! There’s been quite a few teachers who influenced me for the better or worse. Starting on a bad note, there have been teachers mostly nearing retirement who made life difficult for me, probably without meaning to, although my parents did go in and talk to one of them.

There have been several who made a difference, including an English teacher at high school. I don’t think they particularly encouraged me with my writing, I just remember them cos I got on well with them. There’s another English teacher who I sent a Christmas card to and ask after because they go to the same Assembly Hall as my grandparents. Another teacher who I really liked is one allegedly ran off with a pupil of another school a few years after I left. I felt so sad, for one reason and another, when I heard that.

Mr G!

My favourite, teacher of all has to be Mr Grant, who taught me for a few months in my final year of Primary School. He left because he got a promotion to Assistant Headteacher, in a different school in the region. We all loved him. That year was a turbulent one for me. My class contained more pupils than was allowed, so they had to split us up somehow, and I was one of the ones left, with people I didn’t really get on with at the time, as well and the same teacher my parents had to go in and talk to. In the end, I got moved classes because the school’s reason for keeping me behind was reason for complaint and I moved. It was such a horrible time. The teacher was hurt I think, but was horrid to me, and then so were the pupils in the class I moved to who said that the teacher hadn’t wanted me in his class but had no choice and all these things. All of this still stings now, and how many years was it?! Heapies and Heapies!

Anyway, Mr G was an AMAZING teacher, the kind who should have one an award. I remember getting extra help with P.E. by being allowed to practice netball in the school hall at break-time, and once scoring a goal in the playground! I also got extra help with Maths. I will write soon about some of the early years, but I wasn’t supposed to finish primary school at all, especially in maths, so the extra help then, and with the maths/reasoning side of Biology classes in 4th year at high school from the wonderful Mrs B made SUCH a difference.

Mrs P!

Primary School was not the same without him, though in that last year, the rest  taught by a job share with Mrs F, and the headteacher, who went with us on our class trip to an outdoor adventure place. i remember snapshots of that week well, good and bad, but do not wish to go into that here! The bit that sticks in my head is that Mrs P was fabulous that week but later showed the school photos (on acetate and OHP!!) of me reaching the top of the climbing wall, and absenting and the like. I’ll leave you with that thought….