Well, Bless Her Heart

Sharing gossip in the south is like walking a tightrope between the manners your mama taught you about never repeating unkind words saif about another, and the fear that by repeating gossip you will gain a reputation for being a tale bearer.

So when your neighbor walks over to your house unannounced and bearing a plate of her very special tea cakes covered with a delicate linen napkin you know it's time to brew up a pot of tea and ask her to sit a spell, because her tea cakes always come with a price.

Eventually her reason for stopping by will come out in the form of a sad and sorrowful expression on her face that announces what is to follow. After a sip of tea to clear her throat she will usually begin with something like this:

"Did you hear about the candy drive that the PTA had going over at the junior high school?"
"No, I haven't heard a word." you say, while pouring a bit more tea in her cup.

And trying to hide the ghost of a smug smile on her face, your neighbor will reset her face into an expression of sorrowfulness and say,
"After all that money they raised for new gym equipment the PTA president Marlene's older boy, you know, the one who never graduated 8th grade? Well, he stole that money from under his mama's dresser and before he could run off to Memphis and spend it drinkin' and gamblin' the police caught him and locked him up!"
"Oh MY!" You moan. "How IS poor Marlene handling such a disgrace?"

"Well, what I heard is that she's blaming her husband for having been a neglectful father in raising their children, and then locked herself in her room crying with a migraine headache. You know how she always gets those bad headaches when trouble comes her way."

"I do know that, " you say, and then comes that definitive Southern reply to any and all bad news,
"Well, bless her heart." You add, shaking your head while wondering if your neighbor has shared her news with everyone or will there be anyone left for you to tell.

You see, we do our best to hide scorn, and we do our best not to sound judgemental or preachy, but those three words say it all and each every one of us knows it. The thing is, though, it comes to us so naturally to say, "Bless her (or 'your' or 'his') heart", that we actually believe we mean it in the most sincere and genuine way at the time we're saying it. It's only after we've given the news some thought that we realize we know several reasons for how or why the recently 'blessed' sufferer brought their own unhappiness down upon themselves, and all our concern leaves us as fast as our neighbor left our kitchen carrying her mama's heirloom china plate covered in cookie crumbs and her linen napkin.