It has been brought to my attention recently that I have the potential to be a healer.
About two years ago, in September, my best friend invited me to her birthday party. As I recall, it was an average early autumn day, cold and crisp, with just a hint of the leaves changing. A group of other girls had been invited as well and, like the restless youth of these times, we wanted to go somewhere new and exciting. My best friend suggested we take her dog and go to the woods nearby to hang out and explore.
Upon rousing every one into a state of mild excitement, for only my best friend and I liked to explore and get dirty, we realized that to get to the woods, we would have to go through an elderly cul-de-sac, called Oak Ridge. Walking around Oak Ridge was fun, and the woods were absolutely beautiful, concealing a wheat meadow deep inside.
After spending some time in the meadow, we realized it was near evening, and we were hungry. Some girls, including my best friend, offered to go back to her house for supplies. Three friends and I stayed to be sure of the exact place we left off. We were given a cell phone, a Swiss Army knife, and she left her dog, Oreo, for our protection.
Not long after this, Oreo became restless and started sniffing around. We decided to follow him, being careful to remember where we were before. Not ten yards from where we had stopped, there was a thin, winding stream. Oreo by this time had begun to bark madly at the stream, and I tugged on his leash violently with both hands to quiet him down.
To understand this story in the least, it is vital that you all know the leash was the retractable kind, and I had locked it prior to this incident.
Oreo had won the tugging war, and one hand slipped, causing me to get severe rope burn in between my fingers as the leash retracted at the same instant. My fingers were a disturbing fleshy pink color, stinging and festering such as new wounds do. In an effort to yield the intense burning, I dipped my hand in the stream, which was cold and satin-like to the touch.
Pulling my hand out to reexamine the burns, I discovered they were gone. Looking back at the other girls with what must have been a shocked expression, they abruptly ended their conversation to ask me what was wrong, which prompted me to believe they had not been paying attention.
"Guys," I said seriously, "I think I just found the Fountain of Youth." My friends laughed and became excited. One girl had taken the knife and slit a small cut in the flesh beneath her thumb on her palm. She dipped her hand in the stream as well, and gave me a look as if to challenge my theory. She took out her hand and displayed it for everyone to see: the thin pink line was still there.
Recently, my best friend and I were reminiscing those events. We laughed at my thinking we had come across the Fountain of Youth.
"You know, you could be a healer," my best friend chuckled.
"But I only 'healed' myself."
"A self healer, then."
"Yeah," I laughed hollowly. "Maybe."
What do you guys think of that? I barely know, myself. Leave any ideas or helpful tips below.