When you grow

Not my words yet they spoke to me…

​one of Peg's cigarettes, even though Id quit a few weeks earlier. Or had sort of quit.

"The field of honor is a painful field," Olive went on at last, as though Peg had not spoken. "That's what my father taught me when I was young. He taught me that the field of honor is not a place where children can play. Children don't have any honor, you see, and they aren't expected to, because it's too difficult for them. It's too painful.

But to become an adult, one must step into the field of honor. Everything will be expected of you now. You will need to be vigilant in your principles. Sacrifices will be demanded. You will be judged. If you make mistakes, you must account for them. 

There will be instances when you must cast aside your impulses and take a higher stance than another person—a person without honor-might take. Such instances may hurt, but that's why honor is a painful field. Do you understand?" I nodded. The words, I understood. What this had to do with Walter and Frank Grecco and me, I had no clue. But I was listening. I had a feeling her words would make more sense to me later, once I had time to give them more consideration. But as I say—I was listening. This was the longest speech I'd ever heard Olive make, so I knew this was an important moment. Actually, I don't think I'd ever listened more carefully to anyone.

"Of course, nobody is required to stand in the field of honor, Olive continued. "If you find it too challenging, you may always exit, and then you can remain a child. But if you wish to be a person of character, I'm afraid this is the only way. But it may be painful!" Olive turned her hands over on her lap, exposing her palms.

"All this, my father taught me when I was young. It constitutes everything I know. I try to apply it to my life. I'm not always successful, but I try. If any of this is helpful to you, Vivian, you are welcome to put it to use."

- Elizabeth Gilbert 405