What cost is it of the one mistake where it doesn’t matter? Do we bury our heads in the pillow for doing wrong? Or, do we stare at the wall for creating problems?
Does anyone create problems?
I don’t reckon problems to be a grave matter when in school. But, they felt much worse than a year-gap in degree. I was, let’s say, the master in my school, Forbes Academy, when it came to troubling the teacher. I don’t even know if four commas are allowed in a sentence. I also know that this work is not to be a subject of control. But, of flow.
As my English teacher, Miss Fernandes, would refer my mischief to my mom “Your daughter is like an Angel. But, he. He is like a devil.”
She made me write my notes, English of all, at her home for what I recall as a lifetime. She used to tap on our heads with her ink pen when we made mistakes. I could not have asked for a better person to teach us about fables. All of this, I don’t think have any good outcome unless we look back and laugh at them growing up. There’s so much to learn from the mistakes we make early in our lives. And, yet we fail.
Failing, I believe, is the only way to learn better for the future we dream of. Thank you, Miss Fernandes.
Without giving in to the word-prompt, I have distanced myself from it.
Or, did I?