The Coat That Got too Small
Source: Excerpt from Encounters on a Strange Planet as cited in Toward a Human World Order. By Gerald and Patricia Mische
...They stood there, in all sizes and shapes not seeming to take much notice of each other's misery. There appeared to be about 150 of them, but i found it hard to count, even though they barely moved. Their contorted facial expressions and the gasping and groaning sounds they made were very disconcerting to me.
More than anything else, though, the coats were what first caught and held my attention. They were much too strained to limit and seams threatened to tear at the sides. Their bodies bulged against the overstretched fabric as if the content had been stuffed in with tremendous effort.
When I approached one particularly pitiful-looking creature and extended my hand (as is our custom when greeting a friend or introducing ourselves to anew acquaintance), she could not lift her arm even as much as two inches. Her jacket was so constraining as to render her practically immobile. Her face was quite puffed and rather bluish and she was struggling for breath. She eventually whined an apology, " you see, I can't move my arms," she got out between gasps. I thought tears began to appear in her eyes.
"It's your coat", I said.
"What about my coat," she gasped again, sounding more defensive and anxious than i thought was necessary since it was only an observation and one meant to help.
"It's too tight," i said. " Maybe you should get a new one that fits you better. It looks like this one has served you in the past, but now it is more like a straitjacket than a coat."
"What's a straitjacket?" she gasped again, her bulging eyes looking a little puzzled and still defensive.
"It's a special kind of coat used to constrain people who are losing control," I explained patiently. "It has very long sleeves are tightly tied behind his back. Then he is rendered powerless to use his hands and arms."
That sounds terrible!" she exclaimed, and then a few tears of pain rolled down her cheeks. She had taken deep breath in her indignation.
Could you tell me why everyone I see is like you, wearing coats that are too small?" I asked, trying to keep my tone as delicate as possible although that was rather difficult since I found the situation so amazing.
After considerable time (in which she was, no doubt, trying to get enough breath as well as gathering her thoughts) she started, between gasps, tell me their story. They had had these coats since they were young, she said. It seemed to be the fashion. No one has ever questioned it before.
" But surely, you have grown very much since then," I said incredulously, trying to constrain myself. Have you ever looked in the mirror?"
"But what else is there?" She strained, but went on whenever she could get enough breath to say that she liked this coat. It had, after all, been hers for a very long time. " I'm used to it now. It makes me feel..." She searched for a long time, looking for breath and the right word. "...Secure," she puffed out at last.
As I left that place, I thought I heard a great tearing sound, but I couldn't be sure, because of the loud groaning. I wondered what would become of these strange creatures who could not dance or laugh with each other.
More than anything else, though, the coats were what first caught and held my attention. They were much too strained to limit and seams threatened to tear at the sides. Their bodies bulged against the overstretched fabric as if the content had been stuffed in with tremendous effort.
When I approached one particularly pitiful-looking creature and extended my hand (as is our custom when greeting a friend or introducing ourselves to anew acquaintance), she could not lift her arm even as much as two inches. Her jacket was so constraining as to render her practically immobile. Her face was quite puffed and rather bluish and she was struggling for breath. She eventually whined an apology, " you see, I can't move my arms," she got out between gasps. I thought tears began to appear in her eyes.
"It's your coat", I said.
"What about my coat," she gasped again, sounding more defensive and anxious than i thought was necessary since it was only an observation and one meant to help.
"It's too tight," i said. " Maybe you should get a new one that fits you better. It looks like this one has served you in the past, but now it is more like a straitjacket than a coat."
"What's a straitjacket?" she gasped again, her bulging eyes looking a little puzzled and still defensive.
"It's a special kind of coat used to constrain people who are losing control," I explained patiently. "It has very long sleeves are tightly tied behind his back. Then he is rendered powerless to use his hands and arms."
That sounds terrible!" she exclaimed, and then a few tears of pain rolled down her cheeks. She had taken deep breath in her indignation.
Could you tell me why everyone I see is like you, wearing coats that are too small?" I asked, trying to keep my tone as delicate as possible although that was rather difficult since I found the situation so amazing.
After considerable time (in which she was, no doubt, trying to get enough breath as well as gathering her thoughts) she started, between gasps, tell me their story. They had had these coats since they were young, she said. It seemed to be the fashion. No one has ever questioned it before.
" But surely, you have grown very much since then," I said incredulously, trying to constrain myself. Have you ever looked in the mirror?"
"But what else is there?" She strained, but went on whenever she could get enough breath to say that she liked this coat. It had, after all, been hers for a very long time. " I'm used to it now. It makes me feel..." She searched for a long time, looking for breath and the right word. "...Secure," she puffed out at last.
As I left that place, I thought I heard a great tearing sound, but I couldn't be sure, because of the loud groaning. I wondered what would become of these strange creatures who could not dance or laugh with each other.
Source: Excerpt from Encounters on a Strange Planet as cited in Toward a Human World Order. By Gerald and Patricia Mische
find it an odd story and i suddenly remember little prince (which i promise to post my favorite part in the story like this one). The great thing about these stories is it really teaches lesson especially for grown ups.
there are things that is really hard to give up; things we used to do or have. we hardly realize that it is already suffocating us and a burden for us.
As for me, from the last 2 paragraph the story tells me a different thing when the man ask the girl why they opted to wear the coat they had since they were still young and small and the girl answer back that it makes her feel "secure"; it just hit me because I've been accustomed to be at my comfort zone and find myself hard to get out and i know that it won't take me to anywhere and it just got me another question: for how long it would make feel that way? definitely i have to do something.
there are things that is really hard to give up; things we used to do or have. we hardly realize that it is already suffocating us and a burden for us.
As for me, from the last 2 paragraph the story tells me a different thing when the man ask the girl why they opted to wear the coat they had since they were still young and small and the girl answer back that it makes her feel "secure"; it just hit me because I've been accustomed to be at my comfort zone and find myself hard to get out and i know that it won't take me to anywhere and it just got me another question: for how long it would make feel that way? definitely i have to do something.
