Getting a cure for a big head

Have you ever noticed how life has a way of taking the wind out of your sails just when you think you are sailing along great? If something didn't come along once in a while to knock us down to size, we would probably all be insufferable very quickly.

Growing up as the youngest of eight children I had this experience daily.

Whatever I finally mastered, one of my siblings could do it twice as well and often told me how young they were when they acquired that same skill.

On the other hand, since I was the youngest I am sure I received more attention and praise than perhaps the fifth or sixth child did. That still wasn't enough to keep me from feeling that I didn't quite measure up to others in the family.

As I matured I realized that my feelings were unfounded and I began to be rather confident of some of my abilities. Perhaps that was mainly because I no longer was concerned about how many minutes I could hang from the trapeze bar, or how well I played softball. (Actually I shouldn't have worried about my softball fame because the neighbors still remember that there never was a better substitute center fielder on the Ellis Girls Softball Team.)

When I moved into the parent role I felt more confident than some of the other young mothers who were my friends. That went back to the fact that I was the youngest of eight children. By the time I was 14 I had nieces and nephews in my care for a few hours and I helped my mother on weekend and overnight visits with these grandchildren. I watched the same experts who had used the trapeze so gracefully, step into the role of parent with the same ease. I learned from them when I wasn't really in competition. By the time my children came along, many of my older siblings had finished adding to their families. I could use their knowledge without being challenged by it.

I'll have to admit that I cried out, "What would Kathryn do now?" when Shirley threw up all over the frilly infant dress we had bought for her Baptism. Since it was too late to do anything else, I decided Kathryn would mop her up and go on to the church. That is what I did.

Now in my middle age plus years I have found some small fame because of these columns and articles and my books. After years of being introduced as Chester's daughter, Lester's wife, Michael's (or any of the other three kid's) mother, I was finally being introduced for what I have done myself. It is a nice feeling to have someone come to me in the grocery store or in a restaurant and ask if I'm Carolyn Thornton, or ask if I'm not that woman who writes for the paper.

In fact you might say that last week when I got emails from Kansas and Colorado, each telling me how they liked my last book and wanting to know more about me, I was really feeling a bit cocky. That was before I opened my e-mail last night.

I got another message from someone (this time North Carolina) who had read my book. But she started out saying she was disappointed in it and had more uncomplimentary words to describe her feelings about it. She was upset because I had made light of things that had happened to me in my journey as a minister's wife. She wanted me to protest events instead of laughing about them.

I wasn't sure whether I should laugh or cry. I decided to laugh, but my head has shrunk a size or two since then.