Southern Belle Story

Southern Belle

Are you a true Southern Belle?

By, Gina Meyers

       When I was about four or five years old, my dad suggested we go on a bike ride. Now, picture this. Fresno, California, circa 1976. Our family had just moved from San Francisco two summers earlier and my mom and dad had just built a Wathen-Castonos  Massionette home, off of 3^rd Street and Alluvial Avenues in Fresno. We lived as North as you literally could go, beyond our home were fields of figs  trees and our street Alluvial was a barely paved road of two lanes with open ditches pretty much on every other corner. I don’t remember my dad placing me in the child seat in the back of his bike, but I do remember the ride almost home. It was hot, probably a Sunday afternoon in Fresno, maybe 100 degrees. My dad’s bike was fast, he must have taken us east on Alluvial and then was turning around when suddenly, a flat tire on the back of the bike no less!!  At four years of age the idea of walking home in the Fresno heat seemed pretty unbearable, I remember that much. I also remember feeling agitated, annoyed and not happy. I also remember refusing to get off of the bike –after what seemed like an eternity, of bumps…and my dad pulling the bike along the side of Alluvial, I requested his handkerchief. He got it out and gave it to me, instead of blowing my nose or wiping my face with it, I preceded to fan myself with the white handkerchief. It wasn’t a signal but apparently it appeared as such. Suddenly, a very cheerful woman with a large van, slowed down and rolled down her window. She blurted out, “Hey, you need some help?” My dad responded yes and that we had a flat tire. As my dad loaded the bike into her van and we got in, the lady said, “I just had to stop, your daughter looked in distress.” Not the distress from a tragedy, more the Southern Belle style of , “Gee, I can’t believe it’s so darn hot today, I am in need of a mint julep, a fan or … a handkerchief.”

So are you a true Southern Belle? Are the bells ringing? We all have things that make us feel uncomfortable and out of control. Sometimes we recognize our personality traits early on in life like I did. Who is in the drivers’ seat of your life? What direction are you headed in? Too often we misread the signs. Tires get flat and we need to pump them up. Sometimes we need to ask for help even if we don’t feel like we need it. Often times we are passengers in this brilliant and beautiful journey we call life on earth. Is God in your driver’s seat?