The Most Embarassing Moment

Today, I am linking up at Mama Kat's for her writer's workshop.  And also over at Peanut Butter in my hair for the Bigger Picture Moment.  I hope to see you there!

The Prompts:
1.) Describe a time you spoke up for someone who couldn’t speak up for themselves.
2.) The Royal Wedding…ten gift ideas.
3.) What is going on in the bedroom? Describe a memorable sleeper.
4.) Photo Story: Take a walk through your neighborhood this week and share some pictures of what Spring looks like where you live.
5.) Something embarrassing that happened at school.

I chose to write about something embarrassing that happened at school. 

I lived in a time when girls wore skirts to school and there were many more rules involving good and bad behavior.  We had to be respectful.  Yes, maam and no sir were expected of us for all replies.  We were not allowed to yell at a teacher or to make any rude or unsightly gestures or comments.  The boys occasionally got in fistfights out back, (so did the girls, but it wasn't usually mentioned) and resolved their differences with a quick punch in the nose. 
Everyone participated in sports, whether you wanted to or not, and if you weren't any good, you were always chosen last.  It was not uncommon to have boys misbehave and receive a swat on their backsides from the paddle for there efforts.  Most of the teachers in Junior High School used that method.  If they did not, they were perfectly willing to send you to the principals office to receive your swat. 
I don't even remember a case of any parent disagreeing with the punishment in those days.  As a matter of fact, if you got swatted in school, most of the kids found themselves with more punishment when they got home.  It was a much different time to live.  Teachers were always right, and we were not allowed to argue with them. 
One day, in my seventh grade math class (which I loved) the teacher was working with the students at the blackboard. (yes, we were rather old, fashioned back then and used the old kind of chalk boards).  The kids around me were all goofing off and I was doing my math work.  I liked to get it done before I went home so that I would not have to do any homework. 
One of the boys next to me snickered and smashed his fist down on his desk.  The teacher turned around to glare at ME!  "Patty, get up here!  I looked up from my book in surprise to see him looking at my hand which was flat on the desk by my book.  I got up and went to the front of the room, still not understanding what was going on.  He made me bend over and grab my ankles, (in a dress I might add), brought out his paddle and gave me a swat on my behind! 
Now, understand that his paddle was made from a two by four and was solid wood with holes drilled in it.  Let me just say for the record that "sting" is not near enough to describe what that swat felt like.  With tears litterally springing to my eyes, I made my way back to my seat with all the giggling and snickering going on around me.  I was trying my best not to bawl like a baby.  My face was a brilliant red color and my eyes were glistening with unfallen tears. 
I heard about that swat for weeks!  It felt like literally everyone made fun of me.  I was one of the very few girls in that school to ever get the paddle, and probably one of the very few ones who really were completly innocent.
Probably the most embarrassing part was simply that everyone knew that the swat had made me cry, and they all called me a baby for the rest of the year. 

I have found that my own life has had a lot of moments like that.  Times when I am blamed for something I did not do, or something I did not really say.  Times when the people around me don't want to give me the benefit of the doubt.  We can be so quick to believe the worst of those around us, and so slow to forgive them their mistakes.  I have learned, things are rarely exactly as they appear.  There are always two sides to any accusation, and when people have something bad to share, most of them are more than willing to drag your name through the mud and talk about it. 
I have learned that life is not usually fair, and the sooner you can understand and deal with that, the happier you will be.  I have learned that for Every. Single. Trial.  There are an amazing amount of blessings, if we will just trust in Him and follow through. 
Life is not fair!  Every single one of us have heard this or said this or felt this at one time in our lives.  As a child, I remember my grandmother telling me (when I happened to be inconsiderate enough to blurt out how life wasn't fair), "Fair is the place you go when you want to see the pigs!"
I like to think about how it really isn’t fair that one person should should suffer for the sins of others.
It really isn’t fair that some people can commit horrible crimes and then be completely forgiven and cleansed without seeming to suffer for them. It really isn't fair when someone is sick and dies through no fault of their own.  It really isn't fair when a child is abused, or an adult has no family to care for them. 
No, the world sometimes isn't fair; the gospel sometimes isn’t fair, life sometimes isn't fair.  But that is the amazing thing about the Atonement.  It is not about being fair.  It is about mercy.  It is about love.  The love that our Savior has given each and every one of us.  I am so thankful for His mercy and love in my life.  I know that I need it, every single day, I need Him.