When last you read of Shalee, she was having coffee with Kristen. Oh my lands! They had a wonderful time talking about anything and everything. Kristen is as inviting as her blog: Down to earth, comfortable and completely likable. I’m looking forward to the next time we get to chat and relax. I’ll be sure to bring Smeagle next time too. I just know that the two of them will hit it off too. If she invites you for some coffee time, go! (But if she tries to give you directions to the coffee shop, don’t listen to her. Call me instead and I’ll get you there lickety-split. Told you I’d tease you, Kristen! :))
I read some more, did some housework, and caught up some more on Lost. Good times, I tell you.
The hard part came when school let out. I suggested that we play on the playground a bit after school. He asked if we could play at home instead, a highly unusual request from him. Looking at him I decided that he needed to be with other kids, so I said no and we headed to the playground. Imagine my horror as I watched him be literally ignored by every kid on that playground. He would run up to someone and talk to him only to have the kid scowl and turn away from him. He tried repeatedly with several of the boys on the playground, all with the same results. When trying to join the game of tag, every boy ran by him, yelling for him to move out of the way or just running by him. Eventually the boys had to leave and when there was one boy left, he finally acknowledged The Boy’s presence. I had seen enough to know that The Boy wasn’t getting a fair shake at school.
When I was walking back with The Boy, I asked him school was going. He replied with a “fine”, but I knew that “fine” wasn’t really what he meant, so I delved further with more probing questions. I came to find out that this sort of behavior was happening at lunch and at recess. I asked if he was doing anything to encourage this kind of treatment - being bossy, being annoying, antagonizing anyone, and he said, “No! I just went to sit with them at lunch and they all told me to go away. At recess, I try to play tag with them, but no one will play with me! I just want to be liked, but they won’t like me!”
And then I died of a broken heart. I have to tell you something: I struggled with God mightily over this trial, pleading for understanding. It’s one thing to have trust and patience for myself; it’s an entirely matter to watch your son be rejected on absolutely no basis whatsoever. It’s heart-wrenching as a parent to see your only son who is joy and love personified be treated so cruelly and unfair.
Whoa. I think in writing that last paragraph I finally understand God’s point of view with Jesus. That point has never hit home so hard as right now. Maybe that is why God allowed this situation to happen in our family. My son’s rejection is nothing as harsh as what Jesus endured, but it hurts the same emotionally as a parent. And I can’t make those boys accept The Boy, just as God won’t make us accept his. All we can do is offer them to others and hope that they see the beauty in them.
On the way home, God threw me a human lifeline. I’ve been getting to know some of the moms casually when waiting for The Boy to leave school. Liz was one of the first parents I met, and we’ve clicked well. We also discovered that our sons are in the same class. So when we walked by her house (she and her boys had already made it home), she threw out the “How is The Boy doing in school?” question. I sure hope that she didn’t mind honesty because I told her that The Boy and I were just discussing possible solutions to the scenario at school. I let it all pour out, telling her that as a mom, it’s breaking my heart, but I can’t fight this battle for him. I was angry that The Boy hadn’t been given a chance to make friends before he was being rejected.
She was great, taking it all in stride. She gave me the name of the lunch monitor and said that Mrs. Morgan was great at handling those kinds of situations if she’s made aware of them. She also said that she would talk to her son about the situation to feel things out too. It helped to have a fellow mom at least know what I and The Boy were feeling. She didn’t have to solve it, but she graciously held some of the load.
The next day when we were going to school, we happened to time it when Liz and her kids were walking. The first thing out of her son’s mouth was a welcomed greeting and a request for The Boy to sit by him at lunch. I looked at Liz and mouthed a thank you, trying not to cry. The Boy, unaware of what had passed between Liz and I the day before, quickly smiled and nodded his head. Then they talked and talked all the way to school. It seems that the boys actually have a lot in common.
Liz’s son even went so far as to ask if The Boy would come to the Boy Scout meeting that night. He could come and see if he wanted to join the group of boys too because they have a lot of fun making things and playing together. Liz encouraged us to come as well. She thinks it may help for the other boys in the class to get to know The Boy in a non-school setting. I think she’s right too.
Things are going to be alright. I know that God has a plan for The Boy too, even if I don’t like the hows in it. And if God could handle the situation with his son so beautifully and gracefully, I know that he’ll easily be able to take care of mine, whether or not that includes The Boy having close friends. After all, The Boy is really His child, given to us as a gift for a little while.