catching on

"Higgledy Piggledy, my black hen, she lays eggs for gentlemen; sometimes nine, and sometimes ten, Higgledy Piggledy, my black hen," intoned the limping girl, repeating the nursery rhyme out loud to maintain control.  Her constricted throat ached, and she felt the pain in her chest would end her life for sure this time. Then, vehemently she exploded, "There's no meaner hen than you, Alexis!  You awful, cackling hen you!" The tears that swallowed her eyes launched themselves down her cheeks.

The searing memory burned of Alexis's latest torture fest, entertaining her sneering, laughing fan club.

"Who am I that they even notice me, much less call me names?  Why me? All I managed to say was 'What you say is what you are"' she groaned out loud.  "Geez, Maggie, how original are you?" she berated herself.

Tears flew silver in the sun as she tossed her head, still grimacing at the memory.  Her slight form continued to the top of the incline and there she halted.  A gentle breeze moved and grew to a soft cyclonic whoosh, moving the red, brown, orange and yellow leaves into a swirling shower of color around her.

Transfixed, her book bag slid to the ground as she spread her arms and soaked in the wonderment.  Time and breathing did not exist and once the leaves settled in silence, Maggie sank to the ground and wide-eyed repeated again, "What you say is what you are.  Oh my!"

In the silence of a knowing universe, she stayed alone on a hilltop, yet not alone at all.  When she arose, it was with a smile and gentleness felt in every atom.

"Alexis, I'm sorry.  You're quite wonderful and that's the end of that," she murmured in wonder as she lingeringly made her way home.

Morning found her back in the noisy cacophony of her school's hallways.  Shoving and shuffling bodies moved en mass, never noticing the other, eyes averted, each in a world of their own creation. Maggie walked with eyes that noticed the unseen that had always been there.

Of course, they sought her out, the elite group of them in their brand names, perfumed and bejeweled. Their perfectly painted lips and vibrant white teeth spewed venomous viciousness. Then, with narrow eyes, they awaited the devastating results of their vituperative session.

The solid truth of Maggie's epiphany was gilded in gold. She simply observed, and kindly realized they only gave what they had to give.  That was all there was to it, and it had nothing, absolutely not one thing, to do with her.

She sincerely smiled, her heart light with her knowing, and went her own chosen way.