Sticks & Stones
Years ago, long before CALLER ID became a standard feature on most phones, I answered a call where a young female voice was asking to speak to my husband. When I asked her what the call was regarding, there were some giggles with an insistence to talk to him only, followed by a suggestive approach that she was romantically involved with him.
Aside from the fact that I trust my husband completely, there was an obvious reason why this call was nothing more than a prank. This young lady used my husband’s given name per the listing in the white pages, rather than his more commonly used nickname.
After hanging up the phone, rolling my eyes at the recreational activities of our youth, I froze in my tracks. What if this silly young girl had picked another name out of the phone book? What if she called a home and played the same prank again—only this time, she reached a family where she would get the husband’s name right and possibly have her call answered by a wife who had just discovered her husband was having an affair and was trying to heal from the painful betrayal?
It is not just our youth that throw around words carelessly, intending only good fun. I have certainly caught myself saying things that I later regret. But even as much as my own poor choices sober me, do I really know how deep my words have hurt another person? Would I know if I talked about a fattening food at a table with girlfriends, and one of them had a secret and severe emotional eating issue? Would I know if I joked about having a terrible memory, and a colleague just discovered her mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Disease?
I am reminded of the elementary aged rhyme, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” I disagree. I strongly disagree. Words hurt deep, and they leave scars. We need to think carefully before we toss out snappy comebacks. Measure twice, cut once, as a dear friend often tells me.
