Shakespeare would have us believe that a rose by any other name would smell as sweet. Well, I beg to differ. I'll bet if it had smelled less sweet, it would have been named something else, because names, more often than not, describe the thing for which they are the moniker.
What is in a name? Well, when your name is Sarah, it has an h, at the very least. Or it should, anyway. But all too often, that h gets left off, misplaced right out of the picture, sort of like a train without its caboose. And we all know that the caboose is the fun part with the guy who waves as he goes by. So, in short, my h is important to me.
I was always under the impression that this was a personal quirk of mine, but it seems that I am not alone. I found this out the other day when I met my boss for a mid-week meeting at Starbucks. I breezed in a few minutes late, as usual, and rushed to the counter to make my order. When she asked my name, I replied as I always do, "Sarah. With an h."
She looked at me sort of funny, then laughed right out loud. Since I don't think there is anything really funny about the name Sarah - it's not my favorite name, but it's mine, so I live with it - I couldn't really see any reason for her to laugh out loud at me or it. I looked back at her quizzically, and she responded by telling me that Sarahs are generally obsessed with that h. I asked her what she meant, and the answer was intriguing to me.
Apparently, whether you have an h or not, if your name is Sarah, (or Sara,) you are worried about it. She said it's not even just the Sarahs with the h that talk about it. She said the ones without the h will say, "Sara. Without an h." So apparently, regardless of how we spell it, we all have that h on our minds. How entertaining!
The really intriguing thing she told me, though, was that no one else seems to have that same obsession with getting their name spelled right. For example, she said her name is Sherry, and it gets spelled all kinds of ways, but she doesn't care. She said, neither does anyone else, at least not to mention it. But every Sara or Sarah brings up that h, for some reason.
I am rather intrigued at the idea that we are all worried about our h. The economy is crashing and burning, the world is a mess generally, but by golly, we are not going to lose our h along with everything else.
It makes me wonder, what is it about our name, in particular, that sets off this possessiveness of all our letters? This desire to leave no h behind? What is it about all of us Sarahs, that we are tied together in the desire to hang on to all our letters, and not lose any of them somewhere along the line? I am fascinated at the thought that somehow, we have all had some common experience that leads us to be possessive, or dispossessive, of all the letters in our name, showing up exactly where they belong, in a nice neat row.
I, personally, have been known to insert the h where it belongs on all kinds of pre-printed items. If it's spelled wrong, rest assured it will be corrected one way or another, and you will see an h awkwardly added somehow, even if it's falling off the end of my name like the afterthought it obviously was.
Of course, there are some people, when you tell them you want your h, who get flustered and discomfited, and don't know where to put it. I have had my name spelled in the most amazing ways - from Sarha to Shara to Saraha. For some reason, that h just seems to confound.
Then there is my cousin who nicknamed me Sahara Desert when we were young, but that's another story altogether. Although, come to think of it, that might explain my rather unnatural need to have water available at all times. And I answer pretty readily to "Des" even now.
As I explained to the barista at Starbucks, there is nothing wrong with the name Sara. It's fine, if that is your name. However, it is not my name. My name is Sarah. They are different. You might as well just call me Dave, as leave off my h.
All in all, I am entertained that the Sarahs of the world are united by something more than name only. It seems, from somewhere deep inside of us, we are also a little crazy. At least about our h.
