Sometimes in life, the greatest challenges we face is with ourselves. Everyone faces moments of internal conflict and at that very moment, the responsibility of making the right choices is heavily and solely dependent on us. I believe that one of the greatest challenges is to be a honest, principled person. Our decisions cannot be altered or forced out of us and courage is needed to confess of our crimes. A distant childhood memory reminds me of this even to this day, going all the way back to the earliest days of elementary school in a small happy classroom. Colourful toys were littered around the floor like small candy drops and the high chatter of young children echoed and ceased to stop except for when my teacher put up her hand to gather the earnest attention of my classmates.
This was how the classroom was run; with my teacher being the ultimate king while we were her serfs, each tending to our own little serfdom. The day started off as usual with a quick attendance and afterwards, we set off to play. I quickly dashed towards the cherry red building blocks lying on the floor in a tidy neat manner. However, I paused once I got there because a bright flash of red and yellow crossed my path. The familiar face of Maggie was in front of me, dangling a knitted scarf from her arms and wavering the item proudly for all eyes to see. She gathered the class' attention. Her eyes glittered in excitement as well as with a sense of pride. She lifted and stretched the material of the scarf up high into the air.
"Look at my scarf everyone! My mother knitted it for me! Isn't it pretty? So nice!" , she exclaimed.
Her voice booming with her head held high, she eyed each of our faces to make sure that we were all awe-struck. My classmates all agreed that it was lavishing and clapped in joy. The scarf was bright red and soft mustard yellow. The wool was closely and delicately knit together. The pattern was checkered and had a large "M" on one end. After a while, the crowd scurried off to get back to their own activities again but I was enchanted by that scarf. Although visually attractive, I felt jealousy coming from the fact that her mother had made the gift just for Maggie. I could tell an abundancy of time and effort was put into the construction. My mother was too busy to make such elaborate crafts for me. Her job as a flight attendant meant time at home had to be sacrificed. She was often away and I seldom saw her. I did not mind so much until now because I had my grandparents to take care of me for I do not have a dad. He simply never existed in my life. My mother would not knit me a scarf as she had no time. The loud clatter of building blocks tumbling beneath my hands brought me back to reality and out of my thinking. I saw Maggie leave the classroom to go to the washroom. I scanned the room. The teacher was reading some documents and all the children were still concentrating on their own activities. My eyes met with the beautiful creature lying on a desk near mine. I quickly stood up, dashed over and admired the warm fabric for a second or two before I grabbed the scarf and ran to stuff the stolen treasure in my backpack. My eyes flitted to the teacher, then my classmates. Everyone was occupied with their previous actions. I reassured myself nobody saw. Taking timid steps back to the blocks, I felt flushed with adrenaline rushing through my veins. I had stolen the precious scarf.
Soon after realizing what I did, Maggie came back and yelped in surprise, once again gathering the class' wholesome attention, she screamed out that her scarf was missing. Her voice trembled and shook. Her eyes looking down to the ground with her fists clenched with one hand holding her arm as if to comfort herself. The teacher told us to put our heads down and close out eyes. Darkness engulfed me as I pressed my head against the cold desk surface. The teacher told us in her authoritative voice to only put up our hands if we knew were the scarf was. The first few silent moments passed by painfully slow. In my head I imagined the scarf. I heard beckoning voices whisper slyly in my ears that no one knew of my crime. Although I could not wear the scarf, I had wanted it the same. The scarf kept on tempting me while telling me that I would be a better owner. The scarf turned into a slithery serpent, wrapping around my neck. The image disappeared as quickly as the thoughts appeared. I heard feeble sobbing which I knew belonged to Maggie. Instantly I felt guilt wash over me. I had to fight against the fear of being judged by my classmates and taking a harsh punishment. My breathing became shallow as I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment before I took my crossed hand and silently lifted it in the air. As I broke my former composure, light filled the gap and flooded in. The world was colourful again.
Later that day, I was called to stay after school and confess of my crime. The teacher wore a shielded mask, her wrinkled face slightly frowning but of an understanding expression. Her eyes twinkled softly from years of knowledge and experience. My first tear pooled and gently slid down my face, with many to follow. Amidst all my hot tears my vision blurred. I do not remember much of the flurry of events except apologizing to Maggie who just seemed happy to get back her scarf.
Reflecting back to those specific memories, I now understand why the teacher did not get angry at me. She understood my fears and praised my victory over the dark temptations to ignore the change to confess and come clean. Many thoughts crossed my mind such as ignoring the teachers hope and keep the truth in the darkness but I had made the right decision. The jealousy over the love that Maggie had compared to mine was the start of this. I believe that this is also a great challenge. Maintaining sane and healthy thoughts are also important and can seldom be done by anothers encouragement. All the choices and decisions are dependent on us. Keeping personal integrity means to confess the truth. Sometimes, punishments must be made accordingly. However, feeling and the moment of letting the soul free of worry overcomes the punishments and the lessons learned from this are invaluable. I cannot put a price to my childhood experience but the daunting decision between personal wants and belief should be deemed as the one true challenge we all must face.
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