He really just had a bad moment.
At 10:05 a.m. thirteen fourth graders came screaming (literally) into my classroom. Note: my “classroom” has no desks, and instead is filled with just about everything that could make a kid go nuts, i.e. cushioned seats, a six paneled TV, fake fruit, a play kitchen well stocked, a stage with letters all over it, etc. I’d rather call it a playground. But, I digress.
From the first minute of class I knew they were going to be a handful today. Not everyday are they like this, but today, oh yes, and quite more.
During one of the activities he started to tap me on the arm with his pencil. Over and over and over again. He was clearly trying to get my attention but he also knew he was interrupting me, and so I chose to ignore his constant prodding. After a couple minutes I took the pencil from his hand without any explanation. He knows not to treat a teacher like that. His frustration mounted and with the little English he knows, he let me know how unhappy he was that I took his pencil and wouldn’t give it back to him. Seeing that I wasn’t going to give in, he gave my arm a little whack and walked away.
Oh, boy. Touching the teacher is one thing, but slapping her arm? Nope. Not this teacher.
After the class was over I asked my Korean co-teacher to bring down some fire. She did. He cried. He knew what he did was wrong but was still angry. She forced him to say sorry, and he walked out a red-faced, wet-eyed little boy. Did I mention he’s the cutest kid and usually the sweetest, too? Of course, this just added to the agony of seeing him break down.
I felt uneasy about the situation all day and carried it with me for a while. I didn’t think I’d see him until tomorrow. I still had his pencil.
At 2:30 p.m. he came into the English center for a special English class. Afterwards he stood alone by the table putting on his coat, gloves and hat for his walk home. It was time.
I walked over to him and asked him to close his eyes, of course exemplifying what I wanted him to do. Then I took his hand, opened up his fingers, and placed his pencil on his palm. He instantly looked at his hand, then up at me, first with surprise, then with gratitude. “Thank you,” he said. His eyes were beaming.
“You’re welcome,” I replied, as joy flooded my soul.
Reconciliation. Sweet, sweet reconciliation.
Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you. Ephesians 4:32