Remedial pain. My polio therapists dished it out with patience and skill.

Wisdom sayings from across the globe snag our attention when we pause to listen. Some sayings coach us on avoiding pain, others on the usefulness of it. Some proverbs seem priceless. East African sages counsel their young, He who will not be taught by his elders will be taught by the world.

Our limpings – whether physical ones or those annoying internal limpings within ourselves – can sometimes meet with useful discomfort. We call them Disciplines. I keep finding that, if I’m to be helped, I must accept the treatment along with its discomfort – be exercised, improved by it.

The writer of Hebrews strikes a note that smacks with meaning, No discipline is enjoyable. it’s painful. But afterward there will be a peaceful harvest of right living for those who are trained in this way.

My father and mother disciplined me – not perfectly, of course. Nor was I flawless in my parenting. We do the best we know how. We learn. Correction is a good thing and we do our young ones no favor by withholding loving – at times, unpleasant – discipline.

In the polio ward my health declined. From waistline to feet, both limbs went useless. My upper body weakened. My respiratory muscles labored against the paralyzing advance. An attending doctor confided to my parents I would not walk again.

A stuffed black Terrier Pup consoled me, as did one especially kind nurse. While physicians discussed my case. . . and the Iron Lung.

Jerry Lout was schooled at Wilson Elementary, Preston High and O.S.U. Okmulgee, Jerry Lout writes Memoir and Life Reflections. He’s served twenty years in East Africa, another twenty at the University of Tulsa, Jerry is Author of Living With A Limp from which this piece is drawn. His web-based Blog features additional memoir narratives. www.jerry-lout.com