So, some parents were late picking up their kids from the studio Sunday afternoon.
Probably because of the snowstorm but more likely due to Christmas shopping.
No biggee.
I don’t mind staying behind and offer to lock up as well. Especially since the other instructors have lives and have to deal with the storm themselves to get home. Me? It’s just a few blocks of walking. Everyone loves me. I love them. Happiness all around.
I insert the “Elf” DVD into the player we have hanging around in the lobby and the little darlings dutifully sit cross-legged on the carpet – so excited from the drama of it all, jostling for the best position in front of the television screen. I pull out a book (Wuthering Heights – the graphic novel) and settle in for some down time.
Time goes by and I can’t really get into the book since the kids’ are screaming with laughter – you know the kind where it’s forced for the sake of being loud? Yeah, that kind. Annoying, but understandable. Here and there as the movie progresses kids are picked up. Exclamations of gratitude matched by equally effusive assurances it was no bother – we are all just so kind and nice and jolly.
I notice one of my flame princesses has her back turned slightly away from the television. She’s my quietest one. I learned at the beginning of the season to not give her too much attention as it panics her but I can tell she’s crying so without calling any attention to myself, I sit down beside and tell her not to worry – her mom will be picking her up soon and it’s just a silly snow storm. She shakes her head, big fat tears streaming from her swollen eyes and after a little gentle prodding, I discover the reason.
She’s devastated because in the movie, one of the bullies who had been waling snowballs at Will Ferrell’s character and half-brother had fallen to the ground and cried after having been the last to be pinged off in retaliation. This little girl didn’t think it was nice how her friends thought it was so funny. She didn’t think hitting someone with a snowball and making them cry was nice. She felt sorry for the boy and felt bad because no one helped him. Even though he was a bad boy, he didn’t deserve to get hurt. He didn’t deserve to get laughed at.
My first instinct was to explain to her it was someone getting a taste of their own medicine. That he and his friends were hitting and hurting strangers who didn’t deserve it with snowballs all day. That he helped hit and hurt Buddy and Michael so he deserved it, getting hit and hurt back. Plus – it was a movie to make people laugh and he wasn’t really hurt, he was just an actor. But looking down at her, her little face crumpled and so sad it just…what she said hit me in a really hard, punch in the gut kind of way and reminded me of a few things I forgot as of late.
I took her little hand in both of mine and simply said, “Yeah.” How I wanted to cry just as hard as she was, I cannot tell you.
Not asking for opinions or conversation, just wanted to throw this out in internet limbo-land. Christmas is a bit harder this year, I guess. More slush than fluffy-snow, no matter how hard I try to pretend otherwise. Still lucky though. Very, very lucky.
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