Updated: Jan 1, 2019
I can just imagine you walking around the school like a big macho man after you hurt him. After you tell him for the umpteenth time that everyone hates him and that he needs to go kill himself.
You puff up your thin, 9-year old chest and act bigger than you are. You haven't even started puberty yet, and there you are acting like you own the school. Like you're some football star in high school. An entitled brat who thinks he has the right to put others down.
The momma bear in me wants to rip you to shreds. I would love nothing more than to walk into my son's class unannounced and yank you out of your desk chair by your shirt collar. I would love to give you an earful without mercy. I would love nothing more than to make you cry like the small child you are and to show you how badly words can hurt.
I would love to get a hold of your parents and let them know what a bad job they are doing raising you...
But I won't.
Because I have better self control than you. I have better manners than you. And I know very well the damage words can do.
More importantly, my son, your victim, knows this too.
He actually liked you at first, you know? He envied your athleticism and wanted you to teach him about sports. He wanted to be your friend. He wanted to be like you.
You see, he doesn't have a dad who will spend with him and teach him about sports and other guy stuff. He's having to learn on his own how to be a man and how to fit in. I'm doing my best to teach him as his mother, but being a woman, I can't teach a man to be a man. I can only teach him about love, kindness and acceptance and how not to treat others.
You're teaching my son that he will never belong anywhere. You're confirming to him that every mean word his father ever said to him and about him is true. You're showing my child that he's not worthy. That he is not to be loved or befriended.
You are teaching him hate.
You know what, little boy? He is worthy and I will spend every day for the rest of my life erasing the ugly scribbles you have scratched onto his life story. Whatever it takes to make sure not a trace remains. I stand ready.
The world would be a much better place if there were fewer people like you. There would be less hate, better self-esteem, more love. I know the apple doesn't fall far from the tree and most likely you see your father treat your mother this way (or vice versa). It's probably all you know.
That is a shame.
I feel sorry for you. I pity the man you will become if you don't see the error of your ways and learn how to treat others in a loving manner. You will always be a bully, and very soon, people will begin to turn away from you. Even your future wife and children.
My son and I would know.
Your cruel, abusive behavior simply won't be cool anymore.
One day, when my son grows into a man, you will meet him face to face again. I hope he reacts to you as Jesus would. I hope he looks past your ugly heart and sees the pain inside of you that makes you act out.
I hope he offers you his hand in an attempt to lift you up instead of offering his fist as I know he surely wants to. I hope the lessons of patience, forgiveness and love I have taught him will overcome his urge to punch you in the face and say ugly things to you.
Until that day, we will continue to pray for you. Will will pray for your safety, for your heart and for you to realize the pain you cause others when you bully them. We will pray for your family and hope that your parents get a grip on your behavior before your words really cause someone to want to kill themselves. We will pray that you will stop being mean.
Then we will forgive you and move forward. You will not convince my son that he is not loved. I will not let you. I will be there every step of the way telling him otherwise when you decide to attack him with hateful words. Love and kindness will flow from him back to you.
You will not win this battle.