You are Special

I have a friend who, every time I tell her she is special, says to me, "That's why I ride on the short bus."  I used to think it was funny and I've even said it to people who have complimented me about being special.

Not so much anymore. I guess it's because it suddenly dawned on me that the comment was meant to deflect a truth someone might find hard to accept: their own worth. The belief that we are special individuals - a belief that is rare, by the way - is a powerful tool for transformation.  

Take our little friend here, called Punchinello.  This little guy is a character in a book called "You Are Special" by Max Lucado.  It's a children's book about a village full of puppets called Wemmicks.  The village is in a valley and the puppet-maker lives on top of a high and craggy hill.  All day long as the Wemmicks compliment or judge one another, they give each other stickers: either a gold star (which means approval) or a blue dot (which means disapproval).  One day Punchinello meets a Wemmick with no dots or stars on her.  He thinks she is beautiful. She tells him that the reason she is starless and dotless is that she spends time with the puppet maker in his cabin on the hill-top every day.  He doesn't understand.  "Go see him," she urges.  "You'll understand."  And he does - and he understands that his value is not in what other Wemmicks say.  It is in the fact that the puppet maker created him just the way he is, and loves him.  At the end of the story, as he walks away from the cabin, one of his blue dots falls off.

I cry every time I read the story.  It gives me hope.

When the children were small, I stumbled on a children's show that I had never seen before.  I'd heard about it but never seen it.  Being a Canadian baby-boomer and watching only 2 channels on TV (both Canadian), I spent my formative years watching Mr. Dressup, the Friendly Giant, and Chez Hélène.  And once in a while Davey and Goliath.  But this guy is an icon, and it's funny, I had heard so much about him (mostly people making fun of him) but never seen his show.  Until my oldest was two and we were flipping through the channels one day and I heard piano music and a man singing.

After that, we never missed Mister Rogers Neighborhood.  I would hear him tell his viewers that they were special; he even wrote a song about it.  He wrote a song about nearly everything!  I would listen to him and cry.  I would watch the Neighborhood of Make-Believe and I would wish that I could have benefited from this man's imagination and wisdom. And I would cry some more.

By the way, Daniel Stripe-ed Tiger was - and IS - my favorite.  I won't let people "diss" Mister Rogers.  He's one of my heroes.  This link will take you to a video of him in 1997 when he received the Lifetime Achievement Award at the Emmys - a class act if there ever was one! 

I guess I ought to have known back in 1991, when I was sitting bawling in front of the TV set, that there was something amiss in me, but at the time I was living in denial, not knowing that my life had been spinning out of control for many years.  Or how to get it back!

But when I was ready, the message of "You Are Special" came back to me and helped me to accept myself the way I was, to let go of the feeling that I was a burden to everyone.  Just because (from the time I was very young) I was led to believe that I was a burden, didn't make it true.  With the knowledge that God loved me that way, just the way I was, I began to parent that shy, suppressed child.  Over time, she very slowly opened up like a long-dormant flower, and grow inside.

As I learned to love myself (the real me I was so afraid to show that not even I knew who I was) it unblocked my relationships with other people and allowed me to be able to reach out to them and repair the damage I had done by acting out of my insecurities.  I was able to recognize when the people I loved needed affirming that THEY were special.  

Acceptance like that - dare I say unconditional love? - is a very potent thing.