Ummmm ... Who Said That?

This morning I was at Bible Study when I got the call.

The "Hi, this is the school and we need you to come check out your child's injury" call.

I am NOT a fan of that call.  At all.

We had watched the video and were in a VERY good conversation about the week's homework when the phone rang.  Only, it was on silent and I didn't notice it. Till someone nudged me and said "ummm, the school is calling". I grabbed it and ran from the table, so as not to interrupt the conversation.

But in a room full of mamas, the words "the school is calling" interrupts the conversation whether you want it to or not.

So the gentleman on the phone - our school has a male nurse!!! - says "we just wanted to let you know that Sophie was  cut on her finger from a pair of scissors. We need you to come check it out, it's not bad but our policy is to have parents check any cut." I told him I was on my way and hung up the phone. When I turned around several sets of eyes were on me waiting to see what was up. And I made a joke ... I thought.

"Sophie got stabbed by a pair of scissors."

And I slowly got my stuff together and made my way to the door, talking to no less that 7 people on my way out.  Even having fun at the thought of Sophie getting in a tiff at school. One of our pastors said "knowing Sophie she was probably standing up for someone!", which is TOTALLY something Sophie would do.

I finally made it to the school and went into the office to find her reading a book. With a giant white bandage on her finger.

'Cept the bandage wasn't white anymore.

Heart .... meet feet.

She came to me and said "Mama! A... hurt me!"

I unwrapped her finger and noticed that the bleeding had stopped. I first saw a small scrape on one side of her knuckle and felt a wave of relief wash over me.  But then I saw the OTHER side of the finger. And the heart fell again.

Seems the scissors were open and hit just right to get both sides of her finger.

And the OTHER side was a bit more serious.

Still not BAD, but definitely not a scrape.

But the bleeding had stopped. So I asked her to wiggle her fingers so I could make sure it wasn't deep enough to immediately re-open. She did, the bleeding did NOT start up again, so I began to breathe ... again.

And again she said "Mama! A... hurt me!"

And I said "well honey, I am sure he didn't MEAN to hurt you."

She said "He DID mean to mama. He was mean to me and hurt me with scissors!"

I said "Sweetie, I'm sure it was an accident."

And the principal said "well .... not really."

And I was given the recap.  In anger, this boy had raised his scissor armed arm and slammed it down on my baby's hand.

So, yeah, in a way, my baby was stabbed with a pair of scissors.

I took her into the little sick area they have so I could wash off her cut and re-bandage it. And I listened to my scared, hurt little girl say "I don't LIKE A...! He is not my friend anymore! He is mean."

***Now, I need you to know that what happened next was NOT of me. Cause in my head I was about to say "tell mama what this boy looks like! Take mama to him Baby!" But that is not what came out ... What came out of my mouth was all God...***

I looked into her eyes and said "No sweet heart. That is not what I want you to do. I know that he hurt you, but I want you to keep being his friend."

She said "But mama, he is NOT nice!"

And I said "Honey, maybe A... doesn't know HOW to be a friend. Maybe he needs someone to show him what a friend looks like so he can learn. Maybe YOU should be his friend so he will learn to care."

And I looked up to see every person in that office staring at us with mouths wide open.

And, really, I was with them.

Ummmmm ... who SAID that?

That was soooooo not me.

After I got her cleaned up and re-bandaged, I took her back to her classroom, where her teacher all but begged me for forgiveness.  I explained that there was no need. That I had taught pre-school for 14 years and knew all about not being able to get there fast enough. And that I was totally cool with it. Especially when I learned that she had held Sophie's hand high above her head, pinching Sophie's finger tight between her own bare fingers to stop the bleeding.  I do not blame her in the least, I assured her. These things just happen.

And she let me know that A... had been sent home. Because A... had already been to the office once today. A... had hit someone else earlier, as my little nosey nellie baby girl chimed in to inform me!  And, it seems, A... has some anger issues.

And, suddenly, my heart began to ache for A...

And I found myself silently praying for his home life. And his little heart to be softened.  And for A... to find a friend.

A friend like I had just told my little girl she needed to be to the little boy that had just made her bleed.

And I realized that God really can use a broken vessel like a mad as a hornet mama who wanted to say "let's GET him" but opened up her mouth and said, instead, "let's love him."

Because Loving him, might just really be loving HIM.

And I left that school, got in my car, closed my eyes and cried for a little boy I've never even met.

And now I can't get A... off my mind or my heart.  If anyone is out there reading this, please pray for A...