We Shouldn’t Let Anger Misrepresent The Real Us

A friend and I took our children to Mount Spokane recently for a day of skiing and fun. While the children were out in the snow, my friend and I enjoyed the warmth of the lodge.

We had picked out a long table where several young men sat around one end. Some trash was on the table and my friend asked the men if it was theirs. A couple of them said no, and we started to clean it off.

My friend scooped up the bulk of the trash and headed for the garbage. As she passed the men, she muttered, “You’re welcome.”

One of them scowled and launched a verbal assault in which he repeatedly called her a particularly obscene name.

I pointed out his remarks were uncalled for, but all he could say was, “I told her it wasn’t our trash.”

My friend apologized but he kept referring to her in his vulgar way.

I sat down and introduced myself. I asked his name and age and learned he was Jeff, age 20.

I was shaking inside. There was so much I wanted to say but I couldn’t find the right words. In his eyes I saw fear disguised as toughness.

I looked at him again and figured he wouldn’t be receptive to anything I might say. I moved away and eventually he left. I wanted to wish him a nice day but the words just didn’t come out.

Twenty-four hours later they did. I wanted to tell Jeff I was wrong to underestimate his ability to understand something loftier than his usual peer dialogue.

I should have shared some of my hard-learned lessons about self-control, about giving others the benefit of the doubt, about counting to 10 before letting emotions misrepresent who I am.

Admittedly, my friend spoke out of line, but people do that from time to time. I wonder if Jeff talks to his mother that way when she complains about some real or perceived error on his part.

Mount Spokane is beautiful. The snow-blanketed slopes, the whitegarbed trees, the sunlight casting gold and pink shadows on the meadows and forests. This beauty that never stops giving. Even when we intrude on its forests and litter its pathways, it can remind us atop the creation ladder that we have it within ourselves to be ladies and gentlemen in a world of disappointments and hurt feelings.

MEMO: Your Turn is a feature of the Wednesday and Saturday Opinion pages. To submit a Your Turn column for consideration, contact Rebecca Nappi at 459-5496 or Doug Floyd at 459-5466 or write Your Turn, The Spokesman-Review, P.O. Box 2160, Spokane, WA 99210-1615.