One of life’s harsher lessons entails coming to terms with the
reality of change—the fact that nothing remains the same
forever. Matter itself
is in constant flux, ever-changing, a continuous and
never-ending “rising and falling of forms.”
The following essay by a thoughtful twelve year old
reflects on a painful move and the surprising new life it
generated. Beyond
separation, loss and grief, the law of change may be a harbinger
of growth in human life.
In his “Essay on Development,” the recently beatified Cardinal
John Henry Newman declared that “. . . here below to live is to
change, and to be perfect is to have changed often.”
Change
by Sarah Chamberlain
October 11, 2010
This
is a story about an important person that changed my life. Her
name is Molly. She helped me to accept the change in my life.
Molly also helped me not to be afraid of change in the future.
Change is difficult, but it is more difficult when you fight
against it. She helped me to look forward to change as it
changes me. She did all this without knowing it.
I remember taking one last glance at the place that had been
my home for the first five years of my life. I was leaving
everything I knew including friends. I was going to an unknown
place, New York City. I shivered,
but not from cold. Unnerved I turned away, hoping it was a bad
dream and wishing it was.
I think back to the morning of my first day at Hutchinson
Elementary. I was asking “mom do I have to go” even though I
already knew the answer. Now I wish I could take those words
back. Now I wish I was there back in the classroom with my
teacher instead of here in a cold, hard wooden pew.
I was in a church. Why? Why? Why? Why was I here? I clenched
my hand. I knew very well why I was here, in an almost dark
church listening to kids, some my own age and some older than I
recite poems. It was because my parents decided to pull me out
of school and wanted to home school me. This is the first home
school group that we are going to try, it will certainly not be
the last. The kids are too quiet. When we walked in no one was
talking. No one said, “Oh hi, you must be the new kid” or
anything like that. It was deathly quiet. That was earlier.
While my mind wonders, I try to stifle a yawn. I feel like going
to sleep. “How many more kids to go?” I wonder. I wish the day
was over and it is and we go home. I let out a big sigh,
“Finally”.
The next morning I asked sarcastically, “What church are we
going to today?” My mom sighed, “How many times do I have to say
this? I’m sorry you didn’t like where we went yesterday. I see
how it could have been a little boring for you.” “A little,” I
mutter. I know I’m being cruel and my mom is just trying to do
the best thing for me, but I don’t care. I feel bad so I’m going
to make mom feel bad. When we’re in the car on the way to the
new group, I apologize and she accepts it graciously after I had
been so mean to her. Then I really ask her “Where are we going?”
She says that the group for today is meeting at this lady’s
house. This alone should have made clear to me the difference in
groups, but no I was still expecting a solemn and formal group
like last time.
We are finally there. I jump out of the car and my image
could not have been farther from the truth. This was a group of
relaxed parents with children that were running all around. A
woman named Sue, the lady whose house it was, said, “Hi you must
be the Chamberlains”. Then she called for her daughter Molly. I
barely noticed because I was feeling rather overwhelmed. When
Molly came, I noticed how she was a year older than me and had
blonde hair like I did. I soon learned that all nine McMann
children had blonde hair. Molly showed me around. They had a
huge yard with a great climbing tree, a trampoline, a swing set,
and a pool. I was shocked at how much stuff there was. Molly and
I soon realized we had at least one thing in common, we both
loved to climb trees. Since they had a wonderful climbing tree
there was no end to entertainment, not to mention the trampoline
that I had barely ever been on.
Over time I began to make friends with Molly and to go over
to her house more and more. I learned to do tricks on the
trampoline. We went to the New York Botanical Gardens which had
a whole section for children our age. My mom taught me and on
Fridays we went places. Sometimes we went swimming, other times
ice skating. Every once in a while we went on a regular field
trip to an old house or something like that. Molly and I became
really close friends, having a sleepover at least once, but
sometimes two or three times a week. When Mrs. Weir taught some
kids Japanese, Molly and I grew closer still.
When I first met Molly I was angry, scared, and sad. As our
relationship grew I became less and less angry. As I began to
see the world from a different perspective and my eyes opened a
little with the help of Molly, I saw that my parents weren’t the
demons I had imagined and had helped me more than I knew. The
world didn’t look as bleak as it did before, but it wasn’t the
world that was changing, it was me. I was adapting to my
surroundings with the help of Molly. She didn’t realize how much
she was doing for me and teaching me. I knew she helped then,
but not until now do I see how much impact she actually had on
me and my life. At that time I learned that change is good and
it is part of nature nothing stays the same. If you try to fight
it you will be hurt. I have learned to look forward to what will
happen and change and how it will change me. Change will always
be hard, but this knowledge will help me when the time comes.
Molly is a good true friend who taught me an important
lesson in life and for that I will always be grateful. She is an
amazing example of a friend who is doing what’s best for her
friend. She gave me a lesson that I will never forget without
her knowing it. She changed my life by helping me allow for
change in life. I will always think about her when I move and
when I find something in my life that I find hard to accept.
