Clara was one of the girls I failed to notice in high school. In fact nobody dared to notice her. She used to sit at the back of the classroom where all the rowdy boys would stay while I always stay in the front row, trying to believe that the people who sat behind me were of less importance. I would assume that my armchair was some sort of a queen's throne, and anyone who wanted to be in my clique just had to bow down and kiss my boot. Most of the students in my class would whisper around school, giggling about her scrubby uniform and the ugly way her massive array of curls would fall across her spectacled pair of eyes. All I ever cared about were people who mattered to me, not some geek who didn't have any fashion sense in her system. She never really said anything to me, but I could tell that her world was as boring as her face. She didn't have many friends, in fact she would always sit alone, and try as hard as possible not to utter a single sound. I know I shouldn't care less especially when most of the students would make fun of the way she walked, or the way her shoulders would sag as if carrying an enormous backpack. Clara was Clara..and she could go her way while I'll definitely go mine.
She remained non-esistent for quite sometime. Until that day when I was assigned with some school work with her. I barely mentioned a word when Clara was the first to say something. It came out like a hoarse whsiper but she told me in the faintest way that she was excited to work with me. We were told to paint a slogan for the class graduation and I didn't want to spoil such an opportunity like this that I took the whole project to myself. She totally freaked me.
When graduation arrived, my slogan hang itself proudly in the auditorium. That's when in the first time in my life, I noticed Clara. She was nowhere to be found, even when we marched inside the room. It just struck me, not really knowing her even for the few days where we were asked to participate in a project together. I didn't care much about her views concerning the slogan but her presence suddenly hit me the moment I noticed she wasn't around. I didn't even have the nerve to ask any of my classmates where she was, in fear of being ridiculed. But I knew something was wrong.
I was concentrating hard on the names being called out for the diplomas when someone tapped me from behind. I turned to see an old woman handing me a rolled up piece of cardboard. Without hesitation, I took it from her extended hand and gingerly opened the package. It was Clara's slogan, made from an artistically crafted hand, the colors used to represent the class graduation almost appalled me. The drawings imitated all the students inside the classroom,,the rowdy boys at he back..Clara's seat...her curly hair and her eyes casted down with silent tears on her face..and there in the middle my "high chair" where a girl sat beaming and oblivious of everything else...I couldn't understand, and with that I stood up and ran to the old woman that handed me the slogan.
She was Claras mother. I learned that Clara couldn't make it to the graduation because of her illness. She was confined in the hospital the very same day she was supposed to come up the stage to receive her diploma. She had leukemia.
No one really understood Clara. Because no one dared enough to do so. In every high school..or in every human environment that we are evolving in, there are people who hurt you and people you get to hurt. I felt ashamed, knowing that I affected someone's life and refused to understand her plea. Why most of us turn our backs to others who seem unworthy of our attention. That we judge a person's appearance, unaware that they are as human as everyone else..who simply wanted to have a friend. In fear that others would mock us for seeking what is right, we choose a path to ostracize others not knowing that a life maybe at stake.
She died a few days after graduation. And I can still remember Clara. The way she would stare hard at me, the way I ignored her and felt irritated by her...when through it all, she simply needed someone to give her strength, someone to help her fight her disease. It was ironic why she admired me, when I find out now that if there was anyone in this class to be admired..it was her. There were so many what-ifs..what if I knew all along...what if life hasn't been so unfair. But it was too late, I closed my heart too easily, and woke up when evertyhing was gone. There are a lot of Claras out there, people we put behind us, people who wanted to be a part of our lives. But we seem ruthless, we feel important about ourselves that the little things and insignificant people don't ring a bell. Life was never cruel, only sometimes people are.
Her death triggered an emotion inside me. Something I learned from someone who taught me that life should be as simple as it is. That we are mere mortals, born equal...and will die equal. That none of us own the right to put other people down, and look at them with no respect. We all circle around one existence, and we don't have the right to level ourselves higher than anyone else created in this world. Clara said I gave her last few years a big difference...but it's sad that she will never know the big difference she has made in mine.
Photo from Google Image Bank
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