The rules of the boast
When I was a child back in our little shantytown, the children were encouraged to boast. Oh I don’t mean just brag about any old thing, but to stand up during our Sunday get-togethers and boast of some good thing we had done. Of course these boasts had to be confirmed by some Elder who had witnessed them, and then, all of us other children would turn green with envy as much fuss was made over the boaster. Needless to say, we children always went out of our way to find something to do to deserve to boast. This method of teaching only applied to younger children. By the time they had grown to ten or twelve they had outgrown the need to boast, for by then doing good deeds for one another just became second nature.
I well remember my first opportunity at boasting. I had gone berry picking with my Great Grandmother and had outdone myself. I picked two big buckets of berries without even eating one. When I was through, my Grandmother patted me on the head and declared that I could boast about it that next Sunday. Oh how happy I was. It was worth all the scratches and thorns.
Now there was one other thing that was as important to a young child of six. And that was our first pair of long pants. Back then children wore either shorts, or knickers. Your first pair of long pants meant that you were growing up.
Well my Mother had a surprise for me that Sunday. She had cut up a pair of my Dad’s old pants and made me my first pair of long pants. Wow! Was a proud little boy that Sunday? I remember how I would fidget during the services and the long tirades of the Elders. Oh how anxious I was to show off my long pants and to be able to boast before all my playmates.
Finally my big moment came and I went up before everyone and started bragging about fighting my way through the berry bushes and picking the two big buckets of berries. I had just about got half way through my little tirade, when I was grabbed from behind by my Great Grandfather, who immediately took off my long pants before everyone. Oh how embarrassed I was. Having my own beloved “Humsa”, treating me like that. But he was right to do so, for there was one great rule to those boastings. One must always give credit to the Creator for being allowed to those good acts. I had not.
Now some may think this action on their part was a little harsh. But it was a lesson learned that I have never departed from, even now, sixty years later.
Blue Turtle
