20080219

Horrors of the Tongue

Impulsive Imelda breezed through the door of the tutorial room into the walkway, heaving a pent up sigh. Her one and only lesson for the day is over and she's a free bird.

Lemony caught her sleeve as she made for the elevator.
"You're still in this course? I dropped it already. How is it?", Lemony asked.
"Oh, it's all right. Just that at the moment I don't feel like I'm learning anything. I'm waiting for the later parts of the course; the good bits. Hopefully they'll be good.", answered Imelda.

They bade each other farewell. As Imelda walked toward the elevator, she couldn't help but wonder if her tutor heard her. Yes, he was in the tutorial room when she made that not-so-nice comment, but the door to the room was open, and she was just standing outside.

Why does it matter, a reader might ask. Well, the tutor is also the lecturer for this course. And making a discouraging remark within earshot of the one who will be grading and assessing is not too good an idea, wouldn't you agree? It would not help if a tutor is turned against a student.

Five weeks later, Imelda was there at the usual tutorial room, at the usual time for tutorial. The tutor had just revised the tutorial structure: the student presenter for that week will provide a 10 minute summary of the reading to the class. After which each student present will voice one or two questions, comments or points about the reading. Imelda was seated with three classmates on her left and five on her right. The tutor began asking for thoughts on the reading with those seated on her left, the stopped, shifted his attention to those seated on her right, and ended the tutorial there. No doubt the hour of class was over. But he never once called Imelda's name, nor asked her opinion. To Imelda, it seemed as though he ignored her. Entirely.

Feeling invisible and just so down in the dumps, Imelda went to collect an ordered gift for a friend and took the bus and the MRT home. Once in the safety of her home, she cried. This did not look good at all, a teacher ignoring her.

She typed out a prayer to God. She told Him how she felt, why she felt the way she did and asked for His forgiveness. She knows she's no better than people who have ignored her because she too has ignored her fair share of people. She knows she has hurt God's beloved creation. And she's sorry for that. She thanked Him for showing her her hurtful ways and asked that He teach her to correct them and turn from them. She asked that He help her come out of this time a stronger Christian than before.

Still feeling upset and unsure, Imelda opened an msn window with Christian friend from her cell group, Faethe. They both felt that God could be teaching Imelda a lesson on watching her tongue. Knowing that it is a lie that God stops loving you, or loves you less, when you sin, but needing the reassurance, though, Imelda asked Faethe, "God still loves me, right?". To which Faethe replied with a huge "of course!! :)"

(pix courtesy of DeviantArt)

Thank you, Faethe. And thank you, God.

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