Depression Lesson

When I was a kid of ten, I was a brat. We were poor, like most everyone else in town, but Mom and Dad provided well for us in the matter of food, clothing,and entertainment, within their means. It was not their fault that as the middle child I sometimes felt things were unfair.

At about that time my grandmother (mom's mother) became ill, so Mom brought her to live with us temporarily--to "build her up." (Grandpa was not up to it.) She settled in, in the big bedroom downstairs, and we all loved having her. To help in her nourishment, Mom bought a jar of Ovaltine, a little beyond our food budget.

I discovered how delicious it was, and before long I was helping myself to it a little too often for Mom's budget. She took me to task.

"Ella Ruth! That's for Grandma. No more!"

Of course I wasn't thinking of budgets. It was tantrum time. I began to whine, cry, and complain--"Frank always gets the first bike, he gets to go to camp, Johnny gets to eat first--and what do I get? I get to wash dishes!!" It went on until I got out of breath and paused for the inevitable sermon. Instead, Mom just quietly looked at me, then said,, "Ella Ruth, can you hear yourself?"

I had been too busy hollering to listen to what I'd said. As I thought about it, I realized what I had sounded like. It was an epiphany. As Dr. Phil would say, "It was a life-changing moment in my life." That was my last tantrum!