From the time I was born until I was six years of age, my brother

[later add to that our sister] shared a room together. I recall my sister being in a crib about a foot from the bed that Tommy and I shared. He and I would lie very still until we could hear her sleeping (she snored as a baby… it was so cute) and then my brother would haul out a flash light from under the bed and a stack of comic books. And we’d read under the covers together. From then on I was hooked; and I always read the same ones that he did. No Archie and the Gang, but ones like Superman, Super Boy, Spider Man… any comic book that had a super hero in it, this is what we read.

These were our childhood heroes… and in some ways our role models. Tom was particularly fascinated with the guy that could stretch… Elastic Man… that’s probably not his name, but he had this funky costume that was red and white and he wore glasses! I think my brother was pretty crazed over this guy because he didn’t look like some super guy. Instead, he looked sort of nerdy. Elastic Man could do these amazing things. And, I was taken with the fact that he always had a smile on his face in nearly every scene. In trouble out of trouble… This Elastic Man (or whatever his name was) smiled through it all.

Superman had a mother that he sent money home to: and, he was this really obedient caring person as Super Boy. He had hair that was perfectly out of place… just enough to look (sigh) wonderful! I don’t know why he was such a reject in high school because he was so cute. And the other boys at his high school were jerks. I always wondered if the girls had brains the size of a kumquat. I mean Super Boy was clearly a serious stud and he loved his mom and dad and he was smart! There is nothing not to like! (Was Cutie-pie Lana the only girl that had smarts in that town?) If the other girls couldn’t see it in the comics, Tommy and I could see it. What a great role model!

As a side bar, I would have to say that my brother was so delicious looking and while he couldn’t heave a football the length of a football field or lift a barn from its foundation, he loved his family and was caring the way Super Boy was… And, I wasn’t the only one affected because the many girls in our high school would always ask me, “Does your brother ever talk about me at your house,” or they were asking me to carry some note home to him. (Sigh) Did I start out as Lana or become Louis Lane? I worked like Louis Lane and have a nose for trouble and I still do so maybe to some extent, I followed a role model.

I recall that as a kid, we still had live heroes around who didn’t break our hearts with their indiscretions. Or, maybe they had these indiscretions, but the media didn’t stick their nose in like some voyeuristic snoop and advertise it to the world. I have since grown up to realize that everyone makes mistakes and does things that they would like to go back and rethink. A mistake or miss-step doesn’t give the world the right to comment on it or pass judgment. I figure, I’m too busy screwing up all by myself to pass judgment on another person’s life. And then there’s this… and you may quote me: “It’s not the mistakes we make, it’s what we do about them that really counts.”
I have had persons tell me most of my life that I’m their hero (or their heroine). That’s a scary title in real life. It doesn’t leave room to be human, and we all are human.

So how can we live and be ourselves, while still setting a good example? Here it is ala CTTemple:
Speak to people when you see them on the street.
Smile at people.
Expect the best out of everyone, and when they don’t deliver,give them love and understanding. (The person who is the most difficult to love is probably the one who needs it the most!)
Take responsibility for yourself. (And that begins with me.)
Help children and senior citizens by giving them your direct attention when ever possible.
Forgive yourself when you fall off of the pedestal, and move on.
Be courageous for yourself and others when it’s called for (and in this world, it seems to be needed every day!)
Share your food.
Share your money.
Share your hugs.
Share any and every good thing you possess that you can live without.
And lastly, take a chance for the benefit of others.

I will close with an example of how this last one can work. It just takes making yourself available.

About 28 years ago when I was driving home on highway 94 in California, I spied this young girl… she was maybe 13 years of age and looked frightened. She was alone and hitchhiking. I know, I know… the rule of thumb is never hitchhike and never pick one up. But she looked vulnerable and I had four big boys in the car with me. “What could happen,” I thought. So yes, I did the stupid thing and stopped for her.

The bros were “non-plused” that yet again their mother was “saving the world” while they were starving for lunch. I went over to her and asked her if she wanted to come home with us and have some lunch. (That sort of kept everyone happy… at least the bros thought I was headed in the right direction.) I asked my oldest son to get in the back seat so she could ride up front with me. Off we went.

We arrived at our house and I began preparing lunch while she and the bros had something to drink. Over sandwiches, the bros visited with her and then split for parts unknown. I began cleaning up the dishes. As I did I visited with her… asked her questions. (Remember question everything?) Pretty soon she was telling me her entire story.

Her parents had sent her from another state to live with her aunt and uncle in L.A. She had only been there a few months when she decided they didn’t want her or love her. (She was also very homesick and confused about not being with her parents.) I asked her if she had been abused and she answered, “No.” She just didn’t think the aunt and uncle wanted her, and so she ran away so she wouldn’t be in their way.

She began to cry. I held her. Rocked her and waited for the tears to subside. I told her that since she had never really heard them say that they didn’t love her, perhaps a call to their home would be in order… so that they didn’t worry.

She didn’t want to make the call but gave me the telephone number and I spoke to them first. As I suspected, they were terrified that something bad had happened to her. I assured them that she was fine and handed the phone over to this sweet little girl. In no time at all they were bonding in a new way. Something that stated off rocky was taking a new direction for the three of them; heroes were being born out of this situation.

Three hours later her aunt and uncle arrived to take her home with them. As they and their niece were leaving, I grabbed a wooden cross off of the wall. I handed it to my new young friend. As I placed it in her hands I told her, that I would always think of her and remember what a pleasure she is. The cross was to remind her that she is never alone, even when she thought she might be.

We are all of us going to screw up every damn day in some way or another. It’s not okay but it’s livable. Do more good things than bad things!

May you be filled with the super power of love and use it abundantly.

Best… Carolyn Thomas Temple