Lynn's Comments: When I was in grade one, I had a friend called Carol Mayes who had survived polio and walked with crutches. (The character Gordon Mayes was named for Carol.) I often went to the washroom with her because she needed help. I also carried her books and her lunch box when she walked home. I was fascinated by her, and when kids began to tease me saying I only liked Carol because I wanted to play with her crutches, I was confused. Did I really like her because of that? It's true, I did like to swing on her crutches and I did find her fascinating because of the scars she had from multiple surgeries. I just thought she was neat.
She had been held back several grades because of her illness, and she struggled with spelling and reading. I was a good reader, and our teacher asked me to help her, which I did. The kids who accused me of liking Carol because she had crutches were also jealous of the way I had been singled out to read with her at the back of the room. They eventually had an effect on me. As a small child, I had no way of explaining my friendship. I wanted to be accepted, and I wanted to be liked. I slowly separated myself from Carol, and was relieved when she was sent to another school. Carol was gone. The crutches were gone. I was the same as all the other kids and glad to be so.
I often think of Carol. Her strength of character, the way she thrust herself forward, dragging her feet, the way she smiled through the pain and the curious stares. I recall as if it was yesterday. Now I can say why I liked Carol. Of all the kids in my class, she impressed me as having the most to give--the one who outshone us all.
She had been held back several grades because of her illness, and she struggled with spelling and reading. I was a good reader, and our teacher asked me to help her, which I did. The kids who accused me of liking Carol because she had crutches were also jealous of the way I had been singled out to read with her at the back of the room. They eventually had an effect on me. As a small child, I had no way of explaining my friendship. I wanted to be accepted, and I wanted to be liked. I slowly separated myself from Carol, and was relieved when she was sent to another school. Carol was gone. The crutches were gone. I was the same as all the other kids and glad to be so.
I often think of Carol. Her strength of character, the way she thrust herself forward, dragging her feet, the way she smiled through the pain and the curious stares. I recall as if it was yesterday. Now I can say why I liked Carol. Of all the kids in my class, she impressed me as having the most to give--the one who outshone us all.