“I’m tired. I don’t feel good. My tummy hurts. I can’t walk. You have to carry me!” whined Sage as he stumbled out of the school behind me.
His plea was pathetic, and it HAD been a long day for him. After putting in a full day of kindergarten, he’d attended the After-School French class I teach every Monday—at his own insistence, for the record. (He apparently likes hanging out with the big fourth and fifth graders who attend it.)
Even so, my heart was hard with maternal skepticism about the true extent of his distress. I held forth my laden arms to demonstrate that I was in no position to add his fifty pounds to my already considerable burden.
Sighing dramatically, Sage continued his heart-rending struggle to the parking lot—until he saw them.
Three older girls were racing happily up and down the sidewalk by the parking lot as their mothers chatted.
“I want to run, too!” announced Sage as he took off to join them.
It was a MIRACLE! His previously weak and staggering frame trotted merrily in the girls’ wake as they continued their happy racing, and by the time the winded quartet pulled up near us mothers, red-faced and laughing, all traces of his previous disability had vanished.
“Your girls have magic powers,” I informed Cathy and Cindy, their bemused mothers, and I proceeded to describe the miracle they had wrought.
The trio heard my account, and they turned to face Sage, waving their magic fingers at him to ensure that the cure was complete. I was delighted to realize I had my camera on me, so I took a photo to record the event for posterity.
When I looked at the image, though, I realized the effect wasn’t so much Mystical Feminine Healing as Bizarre Child-Oriented Zombie Attack.
Naturally, I burst out laughing, and Cathy peered at the image.
“Let’s run with it,” she said, proceeding to arrange the girls into a properly menacing pose and Sage into a properly terrified pseudo-flee.
Thus the miracle morphed into farce, the gentle magic of feminine influence becoming comically terrifying.
Either way, though, Sage made it to the car on his own two feet.