A few days ago at work I suffered a small papercut on my finger. It wasn't terribly bad, but it was bleeding and I was on my way to a meeting. I quickly rummaged around in our office first aid kit for a bandaid. I pulled one out, opened it, and put it over the bloody spot on my finger. I went off to the meeting and didn't think about it again.
That evening, when I was washing up before bed, I noticed that the paper cut was on a different finger! I had put the bandaid over the spot on the adjacent finger where the blood had rubbed off, not over the paper cut.
What do we say when a little one comes to us with a "boo boo"? We kiss it to make it better. Or, we put on a bandaid! The injury often doesn't require a cover, but that bandaid is magical. It indicates that something is being done, a complaint is being taken seriously, a voice is being heard.
I obviously didn't need the bandaid to stop the bleeding or protect the cut. But, I had felt so much better after putting on the bandaid, even though it was on the wrong finger. I was comforted by my bandaid on the wrong finger because I felt I had taken an action, had responded, had addressed the situation.
How many times in life are we asked by someone for a bandaid--to respond, to care, to listen?
