Tree Frogs of Truth

The last few days I’ve seen a good number of posts, both on WordPress and Facebook, about frogs. One of those postings included my own.

It’s left me remembering the little iridescent green tree frogs that lived along the creek banks near my home and by the grade school. They were creatures with thin fingers and bulbous tips which helped them cling to the many Alder tree branches.

One day, a girl in my class and I were playing with a couple of these frogs when she suddenly pronounced, “You have fingers like a tree frog!”

Embarrassed and feeling shamed, I recall trying to hide my hands. Needless to say I was hurt — which later turned to anger.

Today, I must admit that my finger tips do appear to be slightly fatter than the rest of my fingers. And I also laugh at the memory of how astute she was as a child and how ridiculous and useless my embarrassment, hurt and anger were at the time.

It leaves me with a smile knowing she wasn’t being mean, but rather honest. Ahh, childhood — I’m sure you’d agree that there are some pieces of that trauma we could each do without.