Roo.page

Roo's Discovery

It was a bright, and warm spring day, as I sat on the bank of the river, feet dangling in the
cool azure water.The bees had begun an early buzzing in the Wood and the scent of
blooming flora flowed along the gentle breeze, like an unseen melody.The tiny sparrows
and hurried finches had completed their nest building and now stood guard over their
treasures. As I peered into the water that swirled around my ankles, I could just make out
the frenzied activity of the newly hatched tadpoles.
   It was a wonderful day. Full of promise and intrigue and the mysteries of wonder, in the
Hundred Acre Wood.
   Christopher Robin, Pooh and Tigger had gone off in search of ... of ... well, in search of
something, as they often do. However, I felt the need to just sit ... silently, and "Be." So
that was what I was doing when Roo wandered by.
   "Good morning Blue Eyes." Roo said with a sigh and plopped down next to me on the
riverbank.
   "Well, good morning to you, Roo!" I replied in a cheery tone. "And how has the
morning found my little friend? I do hope you are well."
   Roo seemed to ponder my question and finally answered, "Oh, I'm okay. I guess." And
his tiny body seemed to slump down even farther.
   I turned slightly to look down at Roo and to my surprise, he seemed even smaller than
before.
   "Roo?" I asked softly. "What's wrong? You seem kind of sad."
   He thumped his left foot in the dry, rust colored dirt of the riverbank, and sighed. "No, I
not essakly sad, but I'm not happy either." Slowly shaking his head as he answered me.
(There are some words Roo has a difficult time pronouncing.)
   "Hmm. Well, Roo, if you are not exactly sad and you are not happy either, what is you
are feeling?"
   "Different."
   "Different?" I asked him, surprised by what he had said.
   "Yes, Blue Eyes, I feel different. I look different and sound different too. So, if I feel
and look and sound different, then ... well, then I must be different."
   I turned toward him and smiled gently, "Can you tell me Roo, what do you mean, you
look and sound different? I look at you and see my little friend. You sound the same to
me today, as you did yesterday. I'm sorry Roo, but I don't understand."

At that, Roo sprung to his feet and beat them both against the soft dirt.
   "Blues Eyes," he said, "look at me! My feet are too big, my tail is too long, I squeak
when I talk. Everyone is bigger than me!"
   I stifled my smile as Roo continued to tell me about feeling different.
   "Look at Owl! He can fly all over the Wood and he knows so much too. He is smarter
than I am. Rabbit can tunnel holes under the ground and Tigger can bounce higher than
anyone and Pooh can climb trees and ... and what can I do?"
   Little Roo burst into tears. "I'm stupid and I can't dig holes or bounce high or climb
trees."
   I pulled Roo into my lap and held him close. I wiped his tears and rocked him slowly.
"I don't like being different," Roo said, his voice full of emotion. "I want to be like
everyone else. That way I just know they will like me more."

"My dear sweet Roo," I whispered to him. "Why in the world would you think that no
one likes you?"
   Roo's voice trembled as he tried to speak. Sniffling and hiccuping, Roo said to me,
"This morning, I wanted to go with Christopher Robin and Pooh and Tigger, but they told
me I had to stay home. They said I had to eat my morning meal and do my studies. But I
know it's because they didn't want me to come along, cuz ... cuz I'm different!"
   It was difficult for me not to laugh at Roo's logic. I knew if I laughed at him, he would
have thought that I didn't like him either, so I simply nodded my head and smiled a soft
and understanding smile.
   I continued to hold him and rock him until his cries became a faint whimper, and then I said,
"Roo? What, if by eating your morning meal, you became strong enough to jump as high
as Tigger's do? And by studying, you became as smart as Owl?"
   Roo glanced up at me as I continued on, "And who's to say that because your feet are
big or your tail is long, that being different is a terrible thing?
“Being different makes us unique. If we all looked alike, if we are were able to do the
same things, think the same thoughts, spoke in the same kind of voice ... well Roo, I
think that would make the world a boring place." I took a deep breath and continued.
   "If all we could do was climb trees, then would never jump. If all we could do was
tunnel into the ground, then we would never be able to fly."
   "Look around you Roo, how many Roo's do you see in the Wood? How many Tigger's
and Pooh's?"

~continued~