She was an average built and very attractive lady. Her hair and clothing were always unique – i dare say she was one classy lady. The one constant thing about her though was that scowl. Why she had to have that permanent frown was beyond me. I would encounter her at work or at play but it made no difference to her countenance. Her frown did not deter me though, I still smiled at her- I mean who wouldn’t- her fashion game was too “hot” to ignore.
The rumours were rife – everyday someone had something to say about Mrs X. She drove a big fancy car with tinted windows, she wore expensive jewellery and yet she still appeared so sad, she had to be hiding something! Maybe her marriage was unhappy, maybe she did not have kids, maybe she was just too proud or racist etc. etc. etc. Sometimes I would even join in, in providing the “maybe’s”.
One day I bumped into her in a grocery shop. She was with this fine man who I believe should be her husband judging by the similar rings and how they addressed each other. She was smiling and she looked totally different. “Oh she has teeth, I thought!” Mystery one was solved, she had a happy marriage so that was not the issue, I couldn’t wait to tell the girls. Mrs X had another reason for her haughty ways.
It was a fine Wednesday morning and I was on my way to work. On my last turn in, the traffic was getting heavier by the minute. 500 yards in, I noticed that big MPV with tinted windows and there were a few people surrounding the vehicle. As is typical of emergency situations in the UK, the paramedics were on ground and the bustle around the area was mounting.
I parked on a side street and made my way over to see what had happened. Mrs X had both hands on her head, she was as distressed as could be. A child of about 12 was on the floor, it looked like they had had an epileptic fit. The MPV was open, there was a child of about 10 in the car – that child had Downs Syndrome. Something else I noticed was an even younger child on a wheelchair in the adapted vehicle. There was someone I suspect could be a carer trying to bring the children out of the car. Mr X was with the paramedics who were attending to the boy on the ground. I put away all decorum and rushed to hug Mrs X. She was weeping and all she kept saying was “Lord, Lord, this is too much for just me!” I gathered that she had 3 special need’s children and she had given up her dental practice to focus fully on her children. She apparently hated pity with a passion and was an intensely private person. Mrs X was not an enigma, she was just a protective mum with a heavy load. After staying with them for a while, I hung my head in shame and walked back to my car. All that rung in my head was “Judge not, that ye be not judged” (Matthew 7:1).”
I couldn’t wait to tell the girls.