My Little Delinquent

Don't Judge A Book By It's Cover

What do we tell our children? Haste makes waste. Look before you leap. Stop and think. Don't judge a book by its cover. We believe that we are always better off gathering as much information as possible and spending as much time as possible in deliberation.

-Malcom Gladwell

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Behind every mask there's a story.

There's a reason why people are the way they are. There's a reason why the girl at the back of the class never raises her hand. There's a reason why the bad boy is a heartless player. There's a reason why that one girl is always pulling at her sleeves.

Whether it's because their parents don't pay enough attention to them or because they were trusting the wrong people, there's always a reason. It's not just kids either, no definitely not. Adults act a certain way too because of past experiences, if anything they have more a reason to act the way they do because they've lived longer.

You can never truly understand someone's story just by looking at them, sure you can guess and assume from facts you've slowly gathered but you'll never know the true story unless they tell you. That's the problem with people these days, they just like to assume and jump to conclusions without understanding the facts, that's the reason people hide. That's why people change, masking the truth.

Everybody does it and nobody can say they haven't because that'd be a lie. You can't say you've never faked a smile or said you were fine when you weren't because you have, I know you have, I've done it too. A million times.

I like to watch people. Not in that creepy stalkerish way. I observe people even. I like to pick a random person out on the street and just guess their life story, sometimes their ridiculous little stories for my enjoyment and other times I take my time and really think about and what they have to deal with in their daily lives.

I remember a year ago, I saw a woman sitting on a bench in a park I liked to visit as often as I could. I never noticed her before, it wasn't until she caught my beanie that went flying of my head because of the wind. From then on, I always saw her sitting on that bench just watching the people in the park, humming a soft tune.

At first, I thought she was a homeless and a tad creepy but one day I gained enough courage and sat next to her on the bench, she gave me a smile, I had asked her her name and she told me it was Samantha but she liked to be called Sammy. We went silent for a few minutes before she chuckled to herself and then turned to me and out of the blue said, "If you tell me your story, I'll tell you mine."

I was hesitant at first. I had never told anyone my full story never mind to a complete stranger. Curiosity got the better of me and I agreed. So, we started talking. I told her my entire life story from my first memory until the day when I asked what her name was. The next day she told me hers.

I learnt her mother had raised her as her father was never in the picture. She survived world war two by working on the farms with her mother. When she turned 18 she learnt she was to be married to this rich young man named Henry.

Sammy immediately said no, her and her mother argued over it for weeks. She was worried he'd be a snobby rich kid but despite her protests she agreed to meet him once. He turned out to be the complete opposite of what she thought. Henry was kind, down to earth and he didn't want anything to do with his family's money.

They soon fell in love and were married. They had three kids, one of which Is serving in the army and the other two and traveling the world. Unfortunately, Henry died of cancer a couple years ago.

Once she finished telling me her story, I sat back and realized how wrong I was about her. She wasn't a creepy old stalker lady she was simply someone grieving over the loss of her husband.

When I told Sammy what I thought about her at first and she laughed hard. I told her how I liked to watch people and guess peoples story. She said that's what she came to the park to do but always reminded herself that she was wrong because she didn't want to misjudge someone like she did her husband.

Sammy then told me something I will never forget. "Remember not to criticize what you can't understand girl, don't judge a book by its cover as you may miss out on a good story."

I still see Sammy as often as I can, we talk a lot about my life and tell each other the stories we've learnt. She's like a nice grandma that cook's cookies but also swears, like a lot. It's one of the things that made me like her so much.

Now whenever I try to figure out someone's story. I don't judge, I don't criticise I just watch and listen. It's easy to look at people and make a quick judgement about them, their present and their past, but you'd be amazed at all the tears and pain simple smile hides.

What a person shows to the world is only one tiny facet of the iceberg hidden from sight. And more often than not, its lined with cracks and scars that go all the way to the foundation of their soul.

Never judge, learn to respect and acknowledge the story of another because sometimes you'll see that its quite similar to yours.

This is the story of how past events effected my present. How I hid behind a mask and how people made judgement before they truly knew me. This is the story of a girl who learnt that it's okay to let people in. This is the story of a girl who learnt that letting people in is okay. This is the story of a boy who changed a girl for the better.

My name is Athena Grayson and this is my story.