It's been two weeks since the incident. Let me share, not because I'm awesome, but because I'm forgiven.
While Simon was in the hospital, I received word that a little rascal on the bus was trying to push Garrison down after he got off of the bus. A mom had seen it happen. We had also been warned by our neighbor that she was hearing reports that this boy--oh he needs a name---Luke was picking on Garrison. Luke is in 3rd grade. Garrison is in kindergarten. Gary and I talked with Garrison and asked about Luke. We encouraged him to just stay away from him and to not engage with him. I think that Garrison understood, but didn't get it. A big 3rd grader was talking with him and wanted to "play" with him, even if the play was pushing him down. We had also been told that Luke's parents didn't believe he was doing these things (other kids had been picked on as well). So the stresses of the hospital, the reports from neighbors, and the discharge of Simon home with two tubes sticking out of his body were swirling all around me two weeks ago.
It was the first day back to school after spring break and the first day back for Simon in a month. I waited in our driveway when the bus pulled up to its stop (two driveways down). My boys got off as did Luke and his thugs. I saw them shove Simon over--caught Simon's face as he looked at me with a look of terror--and saw them reach out for Garrison who was shoved on the back but didn't fall down. THAT. WAS. IT.
I started out nice. I really did. I called out "Luke". He didn't hear me. As I began walking toward him I kept yelling louder and louder because he didn't hear me. I finally caught up with him and I let loose. I think I yelled some of the following phrases. "You will quit picking on my boys. Simon has been in the hospital for 19 days. He has two tubes coming out of his body. You shoved him and if he gets an infection from it he could die. He could die Luke. You could put him in the hospital and he could die. How dare you pick on little kids. You will stop picking on my boys. Do you understand me?" Luke abruptly turned as did I. I marched back to the house and greeted my boys.
I felt horrible. I stood by my words, but I didn't stand by my actions. I had no right to yell at Luke. If my boys were doing these sort of things, I certainly hope that an adult would talk with them and set them straight. When Gary came home I shared with him. He said I needed to go and talk with the parents. I didn't want to do that. That is hard. I am scared to do these sorts of things. Gary looked me in the eye and asked if I had prayed about what to do. I said that I really didn't need to pray, I know what God wanted me to do. I needed to go and talk with Luke and his dad. I needed to apologize. So I put on my walking shoes and headed out the door. Gary was already praying.
I prayed the whole way there.
I guessed at what house was Luke's--and I guessed right. I breathed a quick thanks to God. Luke's dad answered the door and I asked if I could talk with both him and Luke. I smiled and apologized right away. I had no right to yell. Then I explained what had been happening with our hospital stay and the like. The stress had just fallen all over the place. I also said that I had been getting reports of Garrison being shoved to the ground every day after school. Luke looked at me with large eyes. His dad looked to him and asked if he had been doing that. After quite the pause he admitted that this had been happening. Luke's dad assured me that it would not happen again and that Luke would be apologizing to Garrison the next day. Luke's dad also said he had heard about what had happened and was planning on coming over to talk with me later that night. I smiled, thanked them both and headed home.
I prayed the whole way back thanking God. It had gone so much better than I had anticipated. They were so receptive to what I had to say. I had conquered a fear of mine. Garrison wasn't going to be messed with again by this hooligan. I had shown both Luke and my kids about apologizing when we do something wrong. God had taken great care of this situation. I also smiled and thought--even though I shouldn't have gone off on Luke like that--I don't think he'll mess with me again. That kinda makes me happy.
My pulse is racing just writing this post. Isn't that amazing how just the memory of something can get you going? So why did I write this? First to give Glory to God. He is awesome and I'm such a fan. Second, this blog serves as a sort of journal for me. Though I do filter what I write about (though some would disagree), I need to remember some of the lessons I've learned and mistakes that I make. Finally--you should all know not to mess with this mama bear. :)
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