Earth Side: A Mother's Day Post

Mother’s Day

Come What May: On Bullies & God's Redemptive Way

Our stories die with us unless we write them down. 

There have been a few things in our life that have sort of defined us.  When I was in first grade, I met my first bully.  A burly, sorta strewn about, mostly dirt-covered, sandy-blonde second grader named Anson.  He wore stained striped shirts and tattered denim jeans every day.  As is characteristic of bullies, Anson picked on me.  He pushed me in the recess line, jumped on the snow-fort my friends and I had built, and pulled my hair.  He’s the reason my front left tooth got broken.  He picked on other kids, too.  His list of offenses piled high…he took other kids’ lunches, put his mouth on the water fountain, and spit gum into someone’s hair.  He jumped off the teeter totter letting kids plummet to the ground.  One time, he smeared ketchup all over the bathroom.  He got in big trouble for that.  And as they scolded him, I remember seeing huge alligator tears pouring down his cheeks.  He left at semester’s end and didn’t come back after Christmas.