A story

I recently sent in my application to Meadville Lombard. I sent my minister my application essay. She said it was nice, but was disappointed that it reflected little on my personal influences. I told her the reason why was because I had a 2,000 word limit and the original essay was twice that. I cut out everything but my personal religious reflections. Which to me are intensely personal - what meaning of life do I ascribe to, put faith in is difficult to share.

She was right though, it did lack my unique upbringing. I supposed I tried to make myself look like everyone else. Not because I'm ashamed of my influences but because everyone is trying to get attention these days with how different they are than everyone. I need no further attention. Except, I suppose, during an application process when all the attention is focused on you already.

She told me it wouldn't have been hard to just put a story that would have given the reader a frame of reference to my personal history. Again, I'm unsure how to address it. Somehow turning an upbringing that is half a bubble off a plum into an asset is difficult to put it into words. However, a few weeks ago there was a story that I can very much relate as to how this might be so.

Once upon a time, long ago, in a country far away there was a nation looking for a tall tower on a hill. That was the national objective - everyone find the tower! The only problem was that everyone in this country was always looking at their feet to make sure they never fell down. So it was difficult to see the tall tower on a hill with everyone looking at their feet. One rainy day a man in this country, Bob, was running around looking at his feet when he noticed a huge gathering of other feet in the distance. There was a meeting! Something was going on! He ran to see what was going on. The rains had stopped and left a giant puddle. And there in the puddle was what everyone was searching for - the tower on the hill! Everyone was excited and arguing they had found it! Except when they went into the puddle and disturbed the reflection it disappeared. There was a great jostling and movement and then all of a sudden Bob fell down. Which did not happen at all to Bob because he was always looking at his feet to be sure where he was going.

And then he saw the tower. He saw it with his own eyes, because he had fallen and was on his back. He'd never noticed it before. Bob quickly got up and went in the direction of the tower. The way was hard and the path winding and it was steep and it was cold. He was still looking at his feet so it was all the more difficult to get there. Old habits die hard. But after many days he made it. He had made it to the tower! And at the tower he could finally see the whole of the land. It was wonderful! And he noticed there were others there at the tower too. And they were all a little unsteady on their feet.

This story really puts it together for me about how falling down or being different helps one to see what others cannot. I suppose that being born in a trailer park on the shores of South Carolina and growing up working class does make it a bit easier to not stare at my feet all the time, or at least a little happier when I fall down.