Book brings back bad memories

Don't we all know a Hilly; an uppity social climber who will stop at nothing to get what she wants, the one that you just want to sink your fingers into and shake silly? In case you're wondering what I'm talking about, I just finished reading The Help by Kathryn Stockett. Hilly is one of the characters in the book. This fictional character touched a nerve in my body and stirred up some old resentment I carried for quite some time.

 I never have been a cliquish person. I'm much more of a free spirit. In high school I flitted around from group to group always leaving my wings spread open; ready for a quick take off if cattiness began. When I started college, I felt compelled to join a sorority because that's what my mother had done. So I followed in her footsteps in the same sorority even though I liked another one better. That only lasted for a year. I transferred from Lamar to Texas A&M and used that opportunity to break away from the Greek life. They hunted me down and wanted me to affiliate, but I didn't. I never could get into all that ritual ceremonial fluff.

Then there's the Junior League. Don't get me wrong, there are a lot of nice ladies that I know in the Junior League . But how does that old saying go- too many cooks spoil the broth? I'd like to change it to one bad cook spoils the broth. And that one cook was my Hilly.

This lady person had once told me that people knew to stay away from her.

"You never want to mess with me or you'll be sorry," she'd said.

I'd smiled and taken another sip of coffee, completely unaware that I'd be her next victim a few short months later.

Ugh. It makes me sick to think about it. Thank goodness she moved away, but not before making my life miserable because of a misunderstanding between... our daughters. I'm telling you, she was hell-on-wheels at the teacher's first little mention that her daughter was... bullying mine. Aren't girls like that at the ripe age of five?

"I won't be your friend if you don't give me your dessert," and "you can't color in the art station with us because ___ " (something so trivial I can't even remember).

 Yes, the teacher got way too involved when she shouldn't have. Yes, the mother blamed me (for how dare I tarnish her president-of-the-Junior-League reputation?). And yes, I cried myself to sleep for days. I just knew she was spreading malicious lies about me. Would I ever be able to show my face in public again? I withdrew into a shell for a few years.

My friend Mary who I speak about so often, the one who committed suicide, was the first friend I let into my life after that experience (I had another very special friend but she had moved away). Then Mary died. Back into the shell I went.

I can see how much of a learning experience the whole thing was. It made me stronger, more cautious; wiser, less naive. My faith has grown stronger. I now know that the only one who will never let me down is God. People have free-will, they make mistakes. I can't put too much faith into them, only God. Now I can live my life and let others live theirs.

But this Hilly character, I tell ya. I'd like to wring her neck.

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