Hagrid, given the task to retrieve one-year-old Harry from the
wreckage of his home, arrived outside the Dursley’s house. Professors
Dumbledore and McGonagall peek at the peacefully sleeping Harry inside the
blanket bundle and see the lightning-bolt shaped wound on his forehead. There are
two lessons here.
The first lesson is that Dumbledore entrusted Hagrid with this
all-important task. McGonagall questions him about this; after all, Hagrid
isn’t perceived as elegant or sophisticated in word and action. In fact, many, invested
in ego, perceive Hagrid as bumbling. But Dumbledore states he would trust
Hagrid with his life. Why is this?
Though Hagrid is not clever in ways that society (the
ego-aspect) admires, he’s clever in his own way. But this isn’t the primary reason:
Hagrid’s loyalty to those he cares about and the path of goodness he follows is.
Dumbledore, because of his own history where a particular weakness caused him
to seek power in a manner that eventually caused him great grief and regret,
looks beyond appearances, beyond clever words and actions, and looks for what
is really inside a person’s heart and mindset. Dumbledore also made his faith
in Hagrid clear to him. It’s amazing what that can do to encourage, support,
and nurture another.
This is a good reminder for us all not to judge a person by
their appearances or outward demonstrations that Status Quo says are acceptable
and admirable, but by who they consistently demonstrate themselves to be at
their core. We are to witness their strengths and their weaknesses—with grace.
We should apply this to ourselves, as well, so that we seek to be true to
ourselves as we aim to be our best selves as we continue to evolve, rather than
seek to appeal to the ego-aspect requirements others may impose on us. Hagrid
didn’t concern himself too much with the opinions of others—or, at least, was
selective about whose opinions mattered, so didn’t experience the insecurities
and the affectations they can lead to that others experience. Hagrid was what
many pursue: happy, content, and feeling he served a purpose appropriate for
him.
The second lesson concerns Harry’s wound. McGonagall asks
Dumbledore if he’s going to mend the wound so it doesn’t scar. He replies,
“Even if I could, I wouldn’t. Scars can come in handy.” Dumbledore knew that
some scars cannot be erased as though they never happened. He also knew—from
experience—that scars can carry a personal power of their own. They can carry a
significant magic of their own. It’s like that adage: “That which does not kill
us only makes us stronger.” We should say “can” make us stronger. The choice is
ours.
Harry’s scar was like a signpost or symbol of who he was, was to
become, and what he would discover he was capable of. It was a visible
representation of his own inner mystery. It also served him as a guidance
system: He never forgot how he got it and at what cost. Considering his natural
powers and those unintentionally given to him by Voldemort during his attack on
Harry, Harry could just as easily have decided to use magic for
self-aggrandizement and to have power over others—and for revenge. That scar
re-minded him to choose the higher path, to choose love and loyalty, to be
courageous even when terrified or feeling he wasn’t a match for someone he
perceived as stronger or more skilled than he was, and to hold love and
compassion in his heart rather than revenge and bitterness, especially at
moments where his next choice would determine which direction he’d follow: one
that led to self-destruction or self-salvation.
He never used his scar as a reason for others to pity him or as
an excuse, but to guide him, inform him, and assist him on his path to his
destiny. We would all benefit by looking at how we use or perceive the scars
we’ve accumulated so far. Do we allow them to make us feel weak, or do we allow
them to make us stronger? Do we fashion ourselves and our lives as Voldemort
did, or do we become our own versions of Harry?
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