Today in class, a teacher put together groups of students and gave each group a paragraph of the last page of a novel to examine. Instead of giving my group a paragraph, she gave us the very last line. Unlike the others who were rather frustrated that we were given a very confusing line, I was thrilled. My teacher saw my expression and told me that it's harder than it looks.
I didn't think so. In fact, I pulled apart almost every word and wrote as many interpretations on it as I saw made sense.
You see, in a way I relate this to arthritis. I walked around for years with the obvious symptoms of arthritis, being ignored because I was just too young to possibly have arthritis, or any sort of disease for that matter. And yet, every time someone I knew who had obscure symptoms went to see a doctor BANG they had a diagnosis and a cure. I could never understand it.
In a lot of ways, I feel like that little line that everyone dreads. Nobody wants to read deeper into it because it's just a line and there's nothing to it. It's not that important. Obviously it would just be easier to get more out of a paragraph. But then, once you looked, you found that one little line means so much and is so important that it affected everything about the novel and the moral.
Never underestimate anything; Not a sentence, and definitely not pain.