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A woman told Erickson about her eight-year old daughter, Ruth, who hated everybody:
A very miserable kind of girl. I (Erickson) asked the mother what she thought made the girl hate herself and everybody else.
The mother said, “Her face is a solid freckle. And the kids call her Freckles.”
And I said, “All right, bring the girl in, even if you have to do so forcibly.” So little Ruth came in just so defiant, ready for a fight, ... stalking in defiantly and scowled.
I said, “You're a thief!” She knew she wasn't.
I said, “Oh, yes, I know you steal... I have proof of it.” And she denied that emphatically.
“I have proof. I even know where you were when you stole. You listen, I'll tell you, and you'll know you are guilty.” You can't imagine her contempt for my statements.
I said, “You are in the kitchen, standing on a kitchen table, reaching up to the cookie jar for cinnamon cookies, and some cinnamon fell on your face, Cinnamon Face.”
First time Ruth knew freckles were cinnamon face. It completely reoriented her. ... All I did was reorient the situation, I didn't change it, I just reoriented it. And very few people know the importance of reorientation. [1]
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