We planted this peony in front of the house a few years
back. No one knew for certain what color it would be or its
future size, so we stuck it in the ground and watched it grow. And grow. And it
never blossomed. For the past couple years, we’ve talked about pulling it out
of the ground since it mostly resembles a glorious weed.
But what is it about mirrors? You put one in front of an
animal and it reacts — even an animal that ought to know better. Dogs and
cats generally become aggressive toward the unknown encroacher. Great apes
become curious and experimental… much like children.
That’s what happened when my son’s Tae Kwon Do school moved
into a new space. Along with new mats and other gear, the new space has
floor-to-ceiling mirrors along one wall. Before and after each class, the
students have a short bit of free time during which they greet each other with
the traditional nod or screech, run about happily, and interact with their
reflections. If only my grandmother were here to say, “You know, if you keep doing that, your face will freeze that way.”
And then class begins. A small group of these children will
test for their black belts soon — my son included. They have been studying
for five or more years, practicing every day. These young men and women face
the mirror with a commitment beyond expectation. Like so many others who have
struggled toward a goal, their reflections echo those years of effort.
That peony in front of our house surprised us this year with
beautiful tiny white blossoms.
This article appears in Jun 21-27, 2006.
