Recently, my husband and I took our daughters up to the mountain for a day to a little tourist town that we love to hang out in. We were looking forward to the fresh air, the few hours away from the chores and a little time just to be together. We ducked into a restaurant for lunch just before a rain/ hail storm hit. Soon people were filing in from the golf courses and the shopping to get out of the storm for a while.
So there I was just minding my own business, enjoying my brand new grandson, waiting for my Jackrabbit Droppings with seasoned Ranch dressing to arrive when I happened to look up just in time to see the most interesting family approaching the table next to us. They were dressed in black, kind of Adams family mixed with Twilight. Not the Cullins family Twilight, the ones that were stuck in a Victorian time warp and lived near the Vatican Twilight. Chains, black makeup, no smiles and boots that were made for walkin’. Seen it before. I might not have given them a second look except for what this child of about 10 years old clutched desperately in his arms. There in his little hands was a three and a half-foot , redheaded doll with a receding hairline, all creeped out like it’s family. As they sat down, that doll turned to look at me and it took my breath away. It was Chucky. CHUCKY!
They sat at the table in such a way that this kid and I were face to face. Me, this kid and Chucky. The waitress came and Chucky ordered lunch. Chucky looked longingly out the window. This little creepy kid kept giving me this look like, now that you know who I am, you will have to be my fourth kill. I was trying not to look at him but I could not stop. I simply could not look away. My daughter was giving me the ” Mom, Stop! ” look but Chucky and I were deeply involved in a pshychic wrestling match and I was about to win. Pretty soon me and this kid were sticking our tongues out at each other and giving each other the stink eye. I actually whispered a prayer out loud and Said” Lord, I don’t know what is going on over at that table but you need to get on over there and intervene” .
Anyone who knows me knows that I am a doll lover. I am a doll maker. I love fantasy characters, anything that can be sewn, modeled with clay or fashioned into an artistic wonder or playmate for a child. I love fairies and elves and even cute little aliens…… BUT NOT THIS DOLL. NOT CHUCKY! Who ever decided to take a child’s plaything and turn it into a horrible vessel for the making of a buck should have to be put in a room full of mothers who have had to stay up all night with a little kid who passed a my buddy doll in the Walmart isle after seeing a commercial for that horrid movie. Chucky has for many years been my arch dolly nemesis.
I Spent the rest of the day trying to understand this situation. Why would a mom allow a child to carry on with this weirdness? Was it a dis-order of some kind? Does that kid have access to guns or chinese throwing stars? Is this child in therapy with a trained professional? Where does he sacrifice his chickens? Was this just all about the shock factor or did this kid take down our license plate so that he could put us on his kill list?
My Cowboy and I were talking about it later.
I said at one point” It was that doll. I could not take my eyes off that doll and that kid would not take his eyes off me. I thought that mom was going to come to the table and have a talk with me”
“What would you have said” He asked, not giving me room to answer. ” I would have said hello. I would have just asked her,” He continued”if She knew the Lord and If she knew where she would be if she died today.( He’s a preacher, he really does talk like that) ” Normally, I would have said hello and complimented the peacock tattoo on her arm. But I didn’t this time. I hung my head in shame and tried not to look him in the eye because that is not what I would have said. My question would have been….
” What’s with the doll?”
My point to this story is that I was so distracted by what offended me that I forgot about the people who were behind the offense. Living breathing people who could have used my compassion, my prayer, and my minding my own business. Without the doll, I would have talked to that kid. Smiled at him. Made conversation with his mom.
We get stuck on things. We get stuck on how people look, how they behave, how they smell or talk or what doll they carry around and forget that our first priority should always be love.
What if we made an honest, conscious effort to remove the distractions in our minds before we interacted with people?
What if we ignored the color of people’s skin or hair or car? What if we ignored that every other word they say is the F-bomb and shared Jesus anyway? What if we looked that homeless guy right in the eye and said hello, even though we don’t have a twenty to pass him? What if we never considered someone’s sexual orientation before we flashed them a smile or started a conversation in the grocery store line? What if that angry stressed out mom just lost her job or that gothic looking kid was being bullied? What if the only thing you were meant to do that day was make someone feel welcomed and you didn’t because of their clothes or tats or piercings or views or Chucky doll? What if God put you in the right place at the right time to do His work because He loved that person and trusted you to be His hands or mouth or provision and you didn’t because the world didn’t serve your delicate sensibilities that day? OUCH…….I’ve been that girl. Recently. Lost out on my blessings because of it.
IN my defense.,….. IT was Chucky.