Games People Play

Tell me. Who are you on the playground? Are you the girl wearing the exuberant smile and puffy pink jacket, careening down the slide towards your best friend, who waits for you at the bottom with outstretched arms?

Are you the girl perched thoughtfully upon the concrete stoop, munching homemade oatmeal cookies? You might be wearing mittens because winter has almost arrived. Your bubbe worked hard knitting those mittens. Although some of your friends think knitting is for old people, you can't wait until your bubbe teaches you this charming craft. You will choose mint green and yellow yarn, and design a cozy scarf.

Perhaps you are the one who delights in the dropping temperature. You must be reminded to wear your jacket although sharp winds blow, and you do, admit it, shiver. You might be known as a tomboy, and although you cringe hearing that expression, ruffles and lace are not your style, and you sure know how to kick a ball.

Might you be the one standing aside, staring wistfully at three of your tumbling classmates, wishing you were included in their game? Somehow they always manage to be friendly but... but what? You don't know why, but there's a tug in your heart. You remember how someone once told you not to be so shy, but how exactly do you change that?

You may be the girl who runs to inform the teacher that someone has fallen and is hurt. In that case, you would probably be the one to request a band-aid and ice-pack, and then help your friend limp back to class. When recess is over, you are the first to hear the bell, and then announce in your loud, clear voice that Recess is Over.

And you. You could very well be the only student who knows the zip code of the school. Recess is a time to collect even more information. You bring out a thick book and finish a few more chapters during the fifteen minute break. If an insect happens to land a page, you can determine which species it is, and might know exactly whose snack it would enjoy. Every now and then a flying ball knocks off your glasses, but this doesn't seem to distract you from page 627 in the most important chapter of your book.

And, of course, you, for whom recess is never long enough. You just want to hop, skip, jump, clap, jumping jack, and cartwheel—and you do! There's a ball bouncing to your left, a skip-it whirling to your right, and a jump rope swirling around your ankles. A trail of chips pours from your pocket, until you notice - and shriek rather good naturedly - "Where's all my snack?"

Maybe you're not even on the playground. You might be home with a fever or the flu. You rest in bed or on the couch, feeling bored and tired. You hope you won't miss too much work at school, and are thankful for the kind girl who sits behind you. She knows how frustrated you get when you miss work and always makes sure to call or visit when you are absent to help you catch up.

Maybe – no – certainly, you are not any one of these characters. You can't kick a ball very high, and have never baked nor tasted a homemade oatmeal cookie. Still, one thing is certain: you are out there on the playground of life every single day.

Unique you, possessing all the wonderful ingredients that make you an inimitable creation. There never was, and there never will be, another you. Although you might identify with one or a few of the fictitious characters above, it is likely that you are far more complex and fascinating than they can ever be on paper - or imagined.

So, let me phrase the question differently. Rather than asking "Who are you on the playground?" - may I ask - "In the playground of life, are you the best that you can be?"

There is a story told about a woman who shared a troubling dilemma with her rabbi. In an uneasy tone, she blurted out what weighed heavily upon her soul: "I am not a nice person." Amazingly, the rabbi responded, "Then become a nice person." Her perfect soul, buried under layers of doubt, suddenly shone, and she recognized within herself the power and possibility to become the nice person she had falsely feared she wasn't.

Amazingly, Mrs. Nice Person became just that! Sometimes we need a reminder that G‑d gives us all the tools we need to be our very best. So… let's be reminded!

That was the recess bell ringing. You know the question; the answer is now up to you.