I passed an emergency phone as I walked home. The kind that sits on a pole outside and usually is equipped with a flashing blue light. It’s understood that it should only be used in the case of an actual emergency. But who decides what is emergency worthy? You hear people say, “It wasn’t a real emergency.” This implies a hierarchy of emergencies. They judge any non-life-threatening situation as something less than an emergency. But what about life-altering situations? What about situations that leave the kind of mental residue that takes up residence for the rest of your life? And what about terror? If a young girl used the emergency phone because she was terrified but thank-God-incorrect of her assessment of the situation, would she be forced to sit through a lecture about the proper use of said phones? And what if my idea of excitement is your definition of emergency? If you’re scared but not in a cookie-cutter-just-like-the-rest-of-us, predictable way, and you ask for help, you’ll probably get the help you seek, but you’ll also get something else – a side order of why-can’t-you-get-with-the-program and be like the rest of us? It is the gift that keeps on giving.