Knuckles

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By Rick Moore 

We called her Sitti, which is the Arabic word for grandmother. She was four feet and eleven inches tall, but that was only when she was wearing high-heels. The driver’s seat of her car had two pillows in it for her to sit on. Even while sitting on the pillows, she could still barely see over the dashboard of the car. The kids in the neighborhood gave her the nickname “Knuckles” because all they could see behind the steering wheel of her car was a set of knuckles driving down the street.

When I was seven years old, my older brothers and I went to live with my grandmother for six months. Not only were my brothers older, they were much taller and stronger than me. Although I am over six feet tall today, during elementary school, I was one of the shortest students in my class. That year, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory debuted in movie theaters, featuring the short people known as the Oompa Loompas. You’ll never guess what one of the kids at school nicknamed me. Yes, among the many other nicknames, I was called Oompa Loompa.

When I came home from school sad and dejected, my grandmother asked me what was wrong. I explained how I was picked on for being small. Sitti could obviously relate as she was the smallest adult I had ever known. She told me a saying I had never heard before. She said, “It’s not the size of the dog in the fight, it’s the size of the fight in the dog.” Years later I learned that was a quote from Mark Twain. Thank you Mark Twain for writing that, and thank you Sitti for sharing it with me. I have never forgotten that advice. It applies to so many areas of life. It doesn’t matter if someone is smarter than me, richer than me, better looking than me, or more talented than me. What matters is the passion that burns inside to stand tall and fight for what is right.

Before going to bed that night, Sitti told me a story that took place when she was about ten years old. It happened just prior to her family moving from the Middle East to the United States. Her father owned a small grocery store. One day, three robbers with swords entered the store demanding her father give them all of his money. Sitti immediately ran to the back of the store. She was chased by one of the robbers, but because she was small enough to sneak through a hole in the back wall of the store, she was able to get the police, stop the robbery, and perhaps save her fathers life. As she kissed me good night, she reminded me it’s ok to be small on the outside, but we should never ever be small on the inside.

The next day, while walking home from school, I crossed paths with the boy who called me Oompa Loompa. He began to tease me again. As I walked away, he said, “Looks like Oompa Loompa has to go home to Knuckles.” I turned around, put my fist an inch from his face and responded, “Say something else about my grandmother and I’ll show you some knuckles.” I discovered quickly that the boy was all bark and no bite. He said he was just joking and politely went the other way. Yes, I was taught not to fight, but I was also taught to take up for myself. That was the first time I can remember standing tall.

Standing up for yourself doesn’t have to be stressful or create conflict. It doesn’t have to be in anger or resentment. When you stand up for yourself, others take you more seriously. You’ll also start to believe in yourself. Be bold. Be strong. Be brave. Never give up. Be big where it counts: on the inside.

Rick Moore is Communication Pastor at Destiny Worship Center

Sowal Editor
Author: Sowal Editor

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