Scorpions, tarantulas, what next? A shiver ran through my spine. Oh, why on earth did I even sign up for this? I could hear my friend’s whisper clearly, although my eyes were closed.
What if it’s another snake?
I shuddered. I would take the scorpion and the tarantula any day. At least I wouldn’t freak out with those animals. But snakes? Snakes were my limit. Snakes I could not handle. But the reason I had finally volunteered to close my eyes and hold the next animal was because a snake had already been introduced. A snake wouldn’t come again, I reasoned.
We were in GatorLand in Orlando, Florida. My fellow classmates and I sat down and one by one, we volunteered to hold an animal without knowing what it was at first. We waited as the guide brought out an animal with our eyes closed. A scorpion, tarantula, turtle and a snake had already been introduced. What else could this place hold?
I flinched as I heard the whispers of my fellow classmates. My stomach knotted and coiled and I wanted to disappear. A bead of sweat rolled down my face. My pulse quickened as a heard footsteps, almost silent, coming closer and closer towards me.
What if it’s another snake? Another snake. Snake.
Could my friend be right? My hands were outspread, and I tried to relax. I hoped that my shoulders didn’t look as tense as they felt. I knew my hands looked rigid, ready to curl up and snap back in an instant.
‘Wow,’ someone muttered. Who could that be? My friend, who tried her best to stop me from volunteering, or someone else entirely? Perhaps it was someone that knew my fear of snakes? Or was it because of another reason? Was the next animal big, scary, and possibly dangerous? I wouldn’t mind. Just not a snake.
Right then, something coiled against my arm; I didn’t dare open my eyes. I stroked it, liking the bumpy yet surprisingly smooth touch of its skin. I winced as it resisted and poked me when I tried stroking it the other way.
Suddenly, the coil around my arm constricted and my eyes flew open in quiet discomfort. A bright shock of canary yellow was coiled up my arm. But that was just the tail. I held half its body in my other hand but I had no clue what it was. At least, I wouldn’t believe what it was until I saw the whole thing.
Then its head slithered up the body of the other person holding it with me. As it poked it’s forked tongue at me, I realized what it was. It was a huge albino python that reached 6 feet. Or more. I couldn’t help but to try and tug my arm out of its grip. But then, I saw the other person holding this giant snake next to me, holding it with ease. I remembered how the skin felt and I realized that unlike most other animals, I had not given snakes the chance to be liked.
I had never given snakes the chance to be likeable. I realized that not only snakes but many people have to be ‘felt with closed eyes’ in order to understand them and begin to like them. Instead of making assumed judgments about people, I had to get to know them first. With this thought, I smiled a huge smile, had my picture taken with my new friend, and returned to my seat with this thought in my head.
What if it’s another snake?
I shuddered. I would take the scorpion and the tarantula any day. At least I wouldn’t freak out with those animals. But snakes? Snakes were my limit. Snakes I could not handle. But the reason I had finally volunteered to close my eyes and hold the next animal was because a snake had already been introduced. A snake wouldn’t come again, I reasoned.
We were in GatorLand in Orlando, Florida. My fellow classmates and I sat down and one by one, we volunteered to hold an animal without knowing what it was at first. We waited as the guide brought out an animal with our eyes closed. A scorpion, tarantula, turtle and a snake had already been introduced. What else could this place hold?
I flinched as I heard the whispers of my fellow classmates. My stomach knotted and coiled and I wanted to disappear. A bead of sweat rolled down my face. My pulse quickened as a heard footsteps, almost silent, coming closer and closer towards me.
What if it’s another snake? Another snake. Snake.
Could my friend be right? My hands were outspread, and I tried to relax. I hoped that my shoulders didn’t look as tense as they felt. I knew my hands looked rigid, ready to curl up and snap back in an instant.
‘Wow,’ someone muttered. Who could that be? My friend, who tried her best to stop me from volunteering, or someone else entirely? Perhaps it was someone that knew my fear of snakes? Or was it because of another reason? Was the next animal big, scary, and possibly dangerous? I wouldn’t mind. Just not a snake.
Right then, something coiled against my arm; I didn’t dare open my eyes. I stroked it, liking the bumpy yet surprisingly smooth touch of its skin. I winced as it resisted and poked me when I tried stroking it the other way.
Suddenly, the coil around my arm constricted and my eyes flew open in quiet discomfort. A bright shock of canary yellow was coiled up my arm. But that was just the tail. I held half its body in my other hand but I had no clue what it was. At least, I wouldn’t believe what it was until I saw the whole thing.
Then its head slithered up the body of the other person holding it with me. As it poked it’s forked tongue at me, I realized what it was. It was a huge albino python that reached 6 feet. Or more. I couldn’t help but to try and tug my arm out of its grip. But then, I saw the other person holding this giant snake next to me, holding it with ease. I remembered how the skin felt and I realized that unlike most other animals, I had not given snakes the chance to be liked.
I had never given snakes the chance to be likeable. I realized that not only snakes but many people have to be ‘felt with closed eyes’ in order to understand them and begin to like them. Instead of making assumed judgments about people, I had to get to know them first. With this thought, I smiled a huge smile, had my picture taken with my new friend, and returned to my seat with this thought in my head.
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