Early Signs

I am not sure, but I think most people don't get the sort of early signs I frequently received in my childhood. Previously, as I would reflect on these events, I would think "Perhaps this was an early sign of greatness". However, since greatness is still currently eluding me I am having to consider a more uncomfortable option. Perhaps these were warning signs. I will let you be the judge.

 Consider this event. I am around four years old and following my sister and mother into my grandfather's cornfield. It is early summer and although not extremely hot yet, it is hot enough that I am wearing shorts and sandals. My mother and sister are ahead of me and just beginning to enter some tall weeds at the edge of the cornfield. As usual, I am lagging behind completely absorbed in something other than what was going on. 

I am looking at my sandals as I walk because it was pointed out to me that I had been wearing my sandals on the wrong foot. I was studying my feet to try and see if I could tell which shoe was which. How did they know? I couldn't tell the difference. The toe of each sandal was equally round. Were they messing with me?

 Absorbed in these thoughts it barely registered that something had shot out of the tall weeds my mother was walking through, zoomed past my sister, and was now at my feet. It was a black snake about 3 feet long and it wasted no time as it began coiling figure eights around my ankles. This was a snake driven with purpose and since my ankles were rather small its passage from one leg to the other meant I had a continuous length of snake completely circling around and between my feet. It didn't stop either as probably somewhere in its snake brain it was in an escape mode driving it to seek shelter which was very inadequately provided by my stalk-like legs.

 Needless to say, this was an event unprecedented in my life and my first reaction to it was shock and awe. Having been so completely absorbed in my shoes to now having to deal with an emergency situation threw my brain into overload, so I just stood rigidly there looking down. My sister who saw the whole event transpire was not in shock. Perhaps it was because she was older or maybe just that God had imbued her with a better sense of self-preservation but she instantly responded to the situation. "Jump back!' she screamed, "Jump back!"

 I did not immediately respond. Her instructions, though clear did not seem to be the best course of action from my perspective. If I were to 'jump back' just how would I time it so the ever-moving snake's head would not collide with my ankle? The snake was so long that its head actually overlapped its tail and there was a continuous band of snake body constantly rubbing around and between my ankles. Not only was this alone disturbing but the coldness of the snake's skin was adding a chilling sensation to my ankles. To me, it seemed like a complex problem that would require precise timing. If I moved my foot too soon, the snake, instead of passing between my ankles would then run into my ankle which would no doubt be worse. Snakehead + ankle = biting... at least from my view of the equation.

 My sister interrupted my contemplation by again screaming, "Jump back!" So, I felt compelled to at least try it. Reluctantly I slightly shuffled my right foot backward. The effect on the snake was immediate. It redoubled its efforts in what must have been the equivalent of a snake sprint and began whipping faster and faster around my ankles. The speed of its movements combined with its scaly skin and the stalk-like thinness of my legs caused it to start rising up my shins. If my brain had been stalled before this new complication brought it to a complete standstill. Now, not only did I have a snake around my ankles, but soon, by all indications, I would have a snake climbing ever higher up my legs until it reached my shorts, and then...

 Well, I never did get to find out what my brain was going to think next because in the next partial second I was airborne and being violently shaken back and forth. My mother had turned around when she heard my sister's screams to find her youngest daughter being assaulted by a snake. Now if there is one thing for certain in this world it is that my mother, Does. Not. Like. Snakes. So, driven by the instinctual urge possessed by all mothers to protect their young and further driven by a much greater horror of all things snake, she had sprinted to my side, jerked me from the earth, and was vigorously slinging me to and fro. That snake must have flown for yards and yards.

 Eventually, she got tired and had to set me back down where she then proceeded to bombard me with "Where did it bite you? WHERE DID IT BITE YOU!?!" while my sister helpfully chimed in "I told her to jump back, but she wouldn't jump back". Upon determining that somehow, miraculously, I was not bitten she then began to grill me on what I had done to create this event. My pleas of innocence in the matter fell on deaf ears as did my explanation as to my reluctance to the plan 'jump back'. Obviously, I had provoked the snake because "Snakes just don't do that" and also I was in trouble for not obeying my sister. She finished by saying she hoped I had learned my lesson.

 To this day I am still attempting to 'learn the lesson' that encounter taught me and as of this moment, I have not yet figured it out. But I can confidently say - 'jumping back' was not the solution.