Yesterday, I Cried_ Celebrating the Lessons of Living and Loving - Iyanla Vanzant [44]
The grown-ups prepared the crabs, seasoned the boiling water, and dropped the crabs into the big crab pot. They turned the knob on top of the pot that locked the cover in place and left the crabs and the children in the kitchen. The northern children decided to help the crabs escape.
Much to the joy of the not-yet-dead crabs, one of the children—it was never discovered who—unlocked the pot. The crabs leaped out of the pot and ran for their lives.
Crabs were everywhere! They scrambled all over the kitchen floor and all over the northern children. The southern children knew better; they watched and laughed as the northern children tried to get the crabs back into the pot. The crabs latched onto anything they could, including the children’s hands, arms, and faces. The kitchen was in total chaos! Crabs clutching, clawing, and hanging on the children; children running, screaming, and stepping on the crabs that tried to get away. Rhonda was one of the youngest, and in her effort to save the crabs, she had gotten more crabs on her than anyone else.
When the grown-ups heard the commotion, they came running. Grandma was the first adult to enter the kitchen. Two unexplained aunts and one unexplained uncle followed her. Daddy was the next adult to arrive and the first to ask the question, “Who opened the pot?”
Had everyone stuck together, they could have gotten away with a unified “I don’t know,” but the North and the South still had issues to resolve. The southern children immediately blamed the northern children. The northern children were too busy yelling and trying to shake the crabs off to deny the accusation.
“Shut up! Everybody just shut up! It serves you right.” Grandma’s jarring voice cut through the room, and everyone fell silent. It was in that moment of utter silence that Ray spoke up.
“Ronnie did it.”
Rhonda couldn’t believe her ears and neither could anyone else, since Rhonda was one of the youngest and shortest of the children. She couldn’t deny it, or defend herself, because she still had crabs hanging off of her T-shirt. The other children were so relieved not to be blamed, they didn’t say a word. Before any of the adults could volunteer a more plausible explanation, Grandma backhanded Rhonda, sending her flying across the kitchen floor onto a pile of half-cooked, half-dead crabs.
“Oh, Ma. Please!” Daddy said weakly. “You don’t have to slap her like that.”
“You know she did it. She’s always doing something she’s got no business doing!”
Daddy was taking a big chance by challenging Grandma publicly. He approached Rhonda tentatively, but by the time he reached her, Grandma had grabbed her and slapped her again.
One of the aunts tried to help by offering, “She didn’t mean it. You know how kids are.” Grandma shot her a glance that shut her mouth for the next two days. Everyone knew Grandma was crazy. Everyone knew that she abused Rhonda. Unfortunately, no one in the room was brave enough to attempt to put Grandma in her place—on her broom, headed for the sunset. They were all afraid of what Grandma might do to them. Everyone, that is, except Nett. She had announced to everyone that she would “go to her grave willingly rather than stand by and allow her to abuse that child.” But by the time Nett made her way through the crowd into the kitchen, Ray was standing in the corner, Daddy was arguing with Grandma, and Rhonda had been slapped three more times.
Lessons in life come in a variety of ways. Children are so observant, sensitive, and impressionable that their most powerful lessons come from what they see and hear others do around them and what others do to them. They learn early in their lives that adults place value on perceived beauty. Children who are not valued and protected feel that they are not beautiful or worthy of protection. Ray was honored, valued, and protected for