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Jack, thanks for the beautiful Leonard story.
People are now wondering about where they may fit into your picture, and I have to thank you for bringing to life a few old memories. I'm afraid I am a "Bernadette" !
This is what came to mind (along the beach) after I read your story and heard that lovely voice of Barbara Dickson.
( From the start, I want you to know that I know; I am no longer the kind little boy, that perhaps I once was. )

crying by the court

I didn’t know his name
he was new to school today
and in my grade 5 class
and he just stood there crying
sobbing wet
leaning against the wall
of the hand-ball court
while most of my class-mates
teased and taunted;
tormenting him.

I watched for some time,
confused.
What pleasure
did they get from this?
Why did he care what these kids thought?
Why did he just lean there,
caring ?
Why not walk away;
or belt some-one?

I left the line
where we all waited
for our turn on court;
the siren went
and as I put my arm around his shoulder
and we turned for class
I said, gently,
“Don’t worry about them,
come with me.”
And he did.

His name was Robert
and I thought he looked like a monkey,
as every-one else did
and that scream of “Monkey Face!”
was their taunt.
I thought that maybe he was from Africa
or some jungle in South America
or New Guinea
or some exciting location, near Tarzan
or Jungle Jim;
but he was only Italian.

About twenty years later
in a pub not far from where I worked
a very tall man came up to me
and placed his big arm on my shoulder
and enquired
“Remember me ?”
I replied. No.
He continued,
“I am Steven, Steve,
grade 5, remember ?
I remember you Mat,
you were always putting us under your wing
when we needed comfort and I want to thank you.”

I thought it odd that this huge guy
ever needed me.

I remembered him, then.
A big awkward kid with no co-ordination,
quiet and a bit on the outer,
neither sort-after nor avoided;
just there!
...and here he was, now,
full of beaming smiles,
personality and thankful acknowledgements;
bigger than ever!

I thanked him for enlightening me
that once upon a childhood
I was caring and compassionate.

He bought me a beer,
put that big arm back around me
and told me of his happy life.
I felt good
as we soared back
to that little boy with wings.

MatmephistowingsbbgJ

mat james wrote:Jack, thanks for the beautiful Leonard story.
People are now wondering about where they may fit into your picture, and I have to thank you for bringing to life a few old memories. I'm afraid I am a "Bernadette" !
This is what came to mind (along the beach) after I read your story and heard that lovely voice of Barbara Dickson.
( From the start, I want you to know that I know; I am no longer the kind little boy, that perhaps I once was. )

Who told you that you are no longer that kind little boy? What other stories filled with lies have you found yourself in?

Thanks to everyone who lent their hearts to helping me find the biggest mistake in my story. I left out making a compassionate effort to tell what Heather was experiencing.

I left her leaving the room in tears. I better explain those tears.

Heather was the daughter of Harold who was very prominent among the church community and she had an older sister named Clarice. Clarice was the apple of Harold's eye who always made him so very proud. All the parents and teachers loved her because she was so well behaved and did what she was told. The day before, Clarice's class had their Christmas party and Clarice's name had been picked by the person who could afford to give the best gift. The kids thought they were choosing but actually the teacher had a lot of control over who got what and the teachers really liked Clarice. When she showed her present at the dinner table her father didn't hide the fact of how much he loved her and made the comment that God's special love for Clarice was evident in the kind of present she got.

Heather wanted so badly to have some of that father's love and started placing a lot of emotional hopes on maybe getting a better present that Clarice. She wasn't as well liked by the other girls and by the teacher but she had always been well liked by the boys and liked them in return and felt that they would come through for her in helping her win her father's love.

Then the paint set and knowing that was what she was going to have to show to her father in front of her mother and sister and she knew without a doubt that it would turn into another time of being told that she needed to be good like her sister. That she was just too bad.

Her tears were not easily seen as she left the classroom and went to the washroom to cry her little heart out and since none of the other girls liked her very much no one went with her. She cried alone. I think it was then that she decided the only way to approach her father was as if she didn't care for his love. She became a little cold.

If ever something ever needed to be spelled out really, really clearly is that the biggest mistake of all and that is believing that making mistakes makes us bad and unlovable and I thank you for the many ways that you spell it out for me.

Hello, I didn't hate the story but at first I just thought it was quite dull and boring. I thought about it the next day, re-read it and realized it was very clever. You wrote this as if you were one of those children, right? You wrote it without art, like a beginner, like an 8 year old just learning to write stories. Your story reminded me of a film called "Being There" where the simple gardener says simple things that everyone else thinks are profound! I admired the scriptwriter there and you have the same talent of writing like a child just emerging into the world and being very simple, and the simplicity itself means others fill in the gaps. It's actually also a clever way to write as everyone can forgive an 8 year old and read the story as sympathetically as they wish. I rather thought there was going to be a dramatic scene at the station when Leonard realized his life had been wasted and wanted just to be a snotty nose boy again back at school. Like in Citizen Kane it was all about Rosebud in the end, here it was all about paints!

joanna42 wrote: You wrote this as if you were one of those children, right?

No

Your story reminded me of a film called "Being There" where the simple gardener says simple things that everyone else thinks are profound! I admired the scriptwriter

you admired him for getting away with being a fake?

I rather thought there was going to be a dramatic scene at the station when Leonard realized his life had been wasted and wanted just to be a snotty nose boy again back at school.

Well I can write it so that Leonard is singing the song for Bernadette to his penis and still it is compassionate and doesn't have to be sympathetic. As I said though anyone one else in the community is free to suggest their own changes.

lazariuk wrote:
>I am going to write a story . . .


thank goodness jack is here. loved the idea of this. feel inspired to steal the concept and contribute with my own effort. alas i have a visitor here from oslo, my brother-in-law, so am unable to spend time online; that would be impolite of me.

I left out making a compassionate effort to tell what Heather was experiencing.

Hi Jack - I don't think it's necessary to further explain. I think the story has done that fine with that.

Mat said that he saw himself as a Bertha as child - I was too sometimes, at least I hope I was and hope I still sometimes.
Occasionally I was a Heather though, not beautiful, but I could overwhelmed when things weren't as I thought they should be. I remember once not handling a present well from my Grandmother (a handmade green jumper - my new cousin received a blue one, how could she have not known that I didn't like green!) I felt terrible after, but at the time I couldn't handle it emotionally. Children can easily confuse love and self worth with things that have nothing to do with either, hell adults can do the same thing.

Cate wrote:
Occasionally I was a Heather though, not beautiful, but I could overwhelmed when things weren't as I thought they should be. I remember once not handling a present well from my Grandmother

But you are beautiful and you were probably spoilt a bit because of it and so expected more from your grandmother. Beautiful girls need to be spanked more.

oops had my jackie moment

Beautiful girls need to be spanked more.

No, they actually need to be hugged more.

So:
(00000's for Cate)
(00000's for Violet)
(00000's for Manna)

and since giving feels good, here're some
(00000's for Jackie)

and
(00000's for Mat and his beaten little legs)

OK, OK, I give in – and
(00000's for Geoffy)

Cate wrote:

Hi Jack - I don't think it's necessary to further explain. I think the story has done that fine with that.
Mat said that he saw himself as a Bertha as child - I was too sometimes, at least I hope I was and hope I still sometimes.

I was wondering about some other directions this could go.

Maybe you can help. Since you saw yourself, at least a bit like Bernadette. I am wondering if you can just imagine yourself as a young girl, maybe named Heather who doesn't know anything about the paints etc. but one day hears the song "Song For Bernadette" and is greatly moved by it, moved to tears. She is confused because she feels like Leonard is singing about her as Bernadette but she has had no vision and doesn't know who she holds or who she should be holding or how to hold them and so comes to this place to get some answers. She is a bit troubled because she hears the urgency in Leonard's voice and doesn't know how to respond.
I wonder what she would ask us and I wonder what we would answer.
It is taking me a long time to hit the submit button on this because I have a fear that I am asking too much and if you or anyone suggest that it is so I withdraw the request.

Jack I was never spanked as a child but if your offering ....

Thank you so much for your hugs I.F. both now and before - I love to be squeezed think that yours are probably just as nice as the ones that Bernadette would give . it always seems that everything is alright as long as somebody in hugging you tight (rhyme was unintended - Mat's fault)

hugs to you as well ooooooooooooooo

~ ~ ~

lazariuk wrote: Maybe you can help. Since you saw yourself, at least a bit like Bernadette. I am wondering if you can just imagine yourself as a young girl, maybe named Heather who doesn't know anything about the paints etc. but one day hears the song "Song For Bernadette" and is greatly moved by it, moved to tears. She is confused because she feels like Leonard is singing about her as Bernadette but she has had no vision and doesn't know who she holds or who she should be holding or how to hold them and so comes to this place to get some answers. She is a bit troubled because she hears the urgency in Leonard's voice and doesn't know how to respond.
I wonder what she would ask us and I wonder what we would answer.
It is taking me a long time to hit the submit button on this because I have a fear that I am asking too much and if you or anyone suggest that it is so I withdraw the request.

For the record I'd much rather be Bernadette but I'll try to wear Heather's mask for you.

you know how when you look at a random group of dots you'll make a pattern or picture out of it with your mind?
I think that this is what Heather would do - she'd make the song fit. if she had not had a literal vision of the queen she'd probably interpret the line referring to the Mother goddess or Mary as being symbolic of merciful love (unconditional, compassionate, forgiving ...)

She saw the queen of heaven once
perhaps she would read this line as meaning she saw the queen of heaven when she once experienced the above love.

And kept the vision in her soul
I've heard vision once described as passion welded to the soul - so maybe she felt that experience had become part of her, part of how she would now engage with the world...

I don't know if I'm answering this the right way but it's late or it's early - I think I might see if sleep would like to lay with me for a while.

Cate wrote:

For the record I'd much rather be Bernadette but I'll try to wear Heather's mask for you.

Oh Cate. You like me far too much. Do you do laundry?

I am being a little lighter than that. When I said "maybe you can help" I meant help the song, don't wear a mask for me, but if you want, if you think it might be fun, wear it for Leonard and his song. Since he is not here to tell you which mask to wear, you can take your pick. If you want to be Bernadette have fun with it.

I liked the song but my story was just one man's opinion of moonlight and even in the song there seemed to be something out of the singer's reach. Maybe it would be fun for you to be beyond the reach of Leonard but in a place where joy seems to make him reach for. Does that make sense? How do you feel Bernadette would feel about the song? Out of the reach of Leonard except when he is feeling joy or whoever is around.

If it doesn't seem like a fun thing i am suggesting then don't do it.

I didn't mean to ignore what you already wrote about it. I was just wondering if you would have had more fun with it if you were not feeling that you were doing it for me.

Your laundry!

- wow you are full of fantasies

I hope you don't mind that I tossed my new red panties in with your whites - they said wash separately but I hate to waste water.

(I'm teasing of course - I'm not really going to turn you laundry pink, I know you were joking)

~ ~

I am being a little lighter than that. When I said "maybe you can help" I meant help the song, don't wear a mask for me, but if you want, if you think it might be fun, wear it for Leonard and his song. Since he is not here to tell you which mask to wear, you can take your pick. If you want to be Bernadette have fun with it.

Was I not being light?
that's really how I thought Heather would think - she'd make it fit to her because it not being about her would be to much to handle, now of course I used my own interpretation because even when we have our masks on we're still ourselves underneath. btw I don't wish to wear a mask for Leonard - what fun would that be he doesn't even know me. no I'm not purposely miss-understanding you - sometimes we do things to please another because it brings us pleasure to do so - if it didn't bring pleasure then it would be a chore - LIKE LAUNDRY - which I'm still not doing for you.

Cate wrote: - wow you are full of fantasies

Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.

I hope you don't mind that I tossed my new red panties in with your whites - they said wash separately but I hate to waste water.

That was my concern in playing around with this Song For Bernadette. We all tend to want to throw a little red in with it. Which is certainly fun to do. But might it also be fun to try to look at something as white as possible?

I don't wish to wear a mask for Leonard - what fun would that be he doesn't even know me. no I'm not purposely miss-understanding you - sometimes we do things to please another because it brings us pleasure to do so - if it didn't bring pleasure then it would be a chore - LIKE LAUNDRY - which I'm still not doing for you.

I wasn't so much thinking of Leonard, who, as you say is not here but rather just for the song which can be here. I am certainly not finding any kind of fault with you wanting to do something to please another. As a matter of fact that is what I am trying to do myself.

Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.

I know that you are. I was simply making a joke regarding the laundry and the chances of me doing it for you - no dig, .

That was my concern in playing around with this Song For Bernadette. We all tend to want to throw a little red in with it. Which is certainly fun to do. But might it also be fun to try to look at something as white as possible?

again the red was about laundry and pink shirts - not the song.
To me the song is I just want to hold you, Won't you let me hold you. To me this is so strong and this is so beautiful I don't travel from it, not saying i'm not interested in seeing what more it has to offer, but i don't think I can contribute especially if you're looking for white.

all the best and with love,

Catherine